The Invisible Onion

When self-care stops working

You might have noticed that I’ve been pretty quiet with writing over the past few months. The truth is, I’ve been stuck, both physically and mentally, and lacking the energy to write, even though my brain still feels full of creative ideas waiting to get out.

I’ve got a week off work now, and I’ve given myself bitesize windows throughout the week to focus on writing. Small, gentle pockets of time that feel manageable.

I want to use this post to share honestly about how I’ve been feeling lately, and the next layers I’ll be peeling back.

Falling out of balance

I usually have a natural focus on joy and light in life. But recently, I haven’t been my usual self. I’ve felt frustrated, fed up, sad, and weighed down by a persistent negative headspace.

Gradually, I’ve noticed my ME and fibromyalgia symptoms worsening, and my usual self-care and pacing practices haven’t been helping in the way they used to. When I’m in a balanced state, I know my triggers, what activities work, what don’t, and how much rest I need. Lately, everything has felt out of control, and that sense of chaos has naturally impacted my mental health.

On top of that, I’ve been experiencing new symptoms that don’t quite fit my existing conditions, and I’ve been going back and forth to the doctors all year with no real progress. It’s exhausting. As an autistic person, I find medical appointments particularly anxiety-inducing; I often shut down when I’m there and forget everything I meant to say, even if I’ve written it down.

Pushed beyond my limits

Two months ago, I went to Japan. A trip I’d been dreaming about and planning for so long. It was full of beautiful experiences (which I’ll share in future posts), but my health wasn’t great. By the time I came home, I was feeling even more unwell and depleted.

After learning more about myself through my autism diagnosis, unmasking, and making changes to support my needs, I thought I’d see improvements in my overall health. When that didn’t happen, I spiralled into a dark mental space. Feeling trapped, helpless, and unsure what else to try.

A new realisation

One night, during a bout of insomnia, I opened ChatGPT and poured out a long message about everything going on in my body. How my nervous system constantly feels overactive, even though I’ve been doing all the right things to feel calm.

The response suggested that maybe my body was chronically stuck in that overactive state, and that my approach might need to change. Reading those words, I burst into tears. It finally made sense.

I realised I’ve been trying to “calm down” my body (meditating, doing yoga, using my Shakti mat) but in a way that treats the symptoms rather than the root cause. I’ve been doing too much, trying too hard, and not focusing enough on helping my body truly feel safe.

Creating a sense of safety

Rarely do I feel safe. I’m often one step away from fight or flight.

So now, my new approach is all about gentle safety. Not pushing, just listening.

I’ve started somatic tracking, a long-term practice that helps rewire how my brain perceives pain and physical sensations. I do it regularly, but only when I feel up to it.

I hum quietly throughout the day, feeling the vibration in my body. A reminder to my nervous system that I’m safe.

When I start to feel overstimulated, I take sensory silence breaks.  I put on my sleep mask and earplugs, get under my weighted blanket, and just listen to my breathing for five to fifteen minutes.

Soon I’ll be starting the Safe and Sound Protocol (SSP), sound therapy designed to help neurodivergent people feel safer in their surroundings by using specific sound frequencies to gently retrain the nervous system’s sense of safety.

Looking ahead with hope

This new approach isn’t a quick fix, it’s a long-term plan built on patience, compassion, and consistency. But I already feel more hopeful, knowing I’m doing something that supports both my body and mind. I’m also continuing to follow up with my doctors, just to rule out anything else underlying.

For the first time in a while, I feel like I’m moving in the right direction. Gently, layer by layer.

Have you or anyone you know experienced something similar or tried any of these approaches? I’d love to hear from you in the comments. Sharing our experiences matters so much.

Much love,
Rachael xx

Peeling back each layer takes time and energy. If you’d like to support The Invisible Onion and help keep the onion blooming, please donate through this link.