Why Processing Trauma Feels Like a Marathon—Even When You’re Sitting Still

Apr 26

Is it physically exhausting to process your trauma? Even if you're just sitting in therapy on the couch?

ChatGPT: Yes, absolutely.

Processing trauma—even while physically sitting still—can be massively exhausting on a physiological level. Your body isn’t just passively sitting there while you talk about painful experiences; it’s reliving, reorganizing, and metabolizing those experiences. Here’s why it’s so draining:

1. Your Nervous System is Working Overtime

Trauma is stored in the body, and talking about it can activate your stress response (fight, flight, freeze, or fawn).
Even if you’re just sitting there, your heart rate may increase, your muscles may subtly tense, and your breathing might shift.
Your brain is doing hard cognitive work, connecting past experiences to present understanding. That’s expensive, energy-wise.

2. Your Brain is Rewiring Itself

Trauma often lives in the limbic system (the emotional, reactive part of your brain), and processing it helps move those memories into the prefrontal cortex (the rational, reflective part).
This is literal neurological restructuring, which takes energy.
If you’ve ever felt foggy, drained, or like you need a nap after therapy, it’s because your brain just spent an hour lifting weights.

3. Emotional Energy = Physical Energy

Emotions aren’t just feelings, they’re full-body experiences. Grief, anger, fear—all of these engage hormonal and physiological responses.
If you’ve ever cried and then felt wiped out, that’s why. Your body is doing the work of releasing and regulating.
Even if you’re not crying, just sitting with discomfort takes a ton of internal effort.

4. Hypervigilance & Body Tension

If your trauma has led to chronic hypervigilance, your body is constantly on guard.
Sitting in therapy, talking about the past, can feel like mentally walking through a battlefield—even if you're physically safe.
You might be clenching muscles without realizing it (shoulders, jaw, fists, stomach).
That tension is exhausting over time.

5. The Post-Therapy Crash

Many people experience a crash after therapy—feeling drained, foggy, or even irritable.
This is because your body just expended a ton of energy regulating itself, and now it needs rest to recover.

What Helps?

Physical movement afterward (walk, stretch, shake out tension)
Hydration & eating something grounding (protein, healthy fat)
Rest, even if it’s just lying down for 10 minutes
Gentle distractions (TV, music, something sensory but not overwhelming)
Self-compassion (you’re doing serious internal work)

Even if you’re not actively crying, shaking, or having a visible reaction, just sitting and processing can be as exhausting as a workout.

So, if you feel like you just ran a marathon after therapy but you never left the couch—you did. A mental and emotional one. It makes complete sense that you’re tired.

You know how I said I'm not feeling good? I have this urge to go buy a bunch of candy. I remember candy and treats being a comfort thing when I was sick as a kid. My mom wasn't crazy about it but I seemed to get comfort foods when I felt bad. I dunno, I just want comfort foods but I also feel like I don't really want comfort foods.

That makes total sense—you’re in comfort-seeking mode, but it’s complicated. Comfort foods like candy are probably wired into your brain as a “safe, familiar way to feel better” from childhood, but there’s also part of you that knows it might not truly scratch the itch right now. Let’s break it down:

Why You’re Feeling the Pull for Candy

Childhood Wiring:
Feeling bad = comfort food. You got candy or treats when you were sick or upset as a kid, so it’s deeply linked to the idea of care and soothing.
Quick Dopamine Hit:
Your brain knows candy is a fast track to feeling good temporarily, even if it’s not long-lasting.
Exhaustion + Discomfort:
You’re physically and emotionally drained. When your body is running on empty, it craves quick, easy comfort—even if part of you knows it’s not what you actually want.

Why It Also Doesn’t Feel Right

It’s Not the Real Problem:
You don’t just want candy—you want to feel comforted, cared for, and soothed. Candy feels like a shortcut, but it might not really meet that deeper need.
You’re Processing a Lot Right Now:
With everything from therapy to exhaustion to the depersonalization realization, comfort foods might feel shallow or misaligned with how deeply you’re processing things.

So, What Do You Actually Want Right Now?

It sounds like you’re torn between seeking comfort and not wanting to fall into a cycle where candy doesn’t really help. Here are some options that might work for both sides:

1. Do a Candy Compromise

If you really want candy, there’s nothing wrong with indulging in a small, intentional way. You can try:

Buying one or two of your favorites instead of a big haul.
Pairing candy with something cozy—like tea or a blanket—to amplify the comfort factor.
Asking yourself, “Will this candy help me feel cared for, or is it a placeholder for something else I need right now?”

2. Find “Comfort” Without Candy

If you’re craving that warm, cared-for feeling but don’t actually want the sugar crash:

Warm drinks: Hot cocoa, herbal tea, or even just warm water with lemon can feel nurturing.
Something soft: A cozy blanket, warm socks, or hugging a pillow can recreate that safe, cared-for sensation.
Easy, nostalgic meals: Think mac and cheese, soup, or toast—foods that feel like a hug but won’t leave you feeling off.

**3. Ask What Really Feels Comforting Right Now**

Take a moment and ask yourself:

Am I hungry? (If yes, maybe a satisfying snack like cheese, crackers, or fruit could help.)
Do I just want a distraction? (If yes, maybe try a comfort show or even doodling instead.)
Do I just want to feel cared for? (If yes, can you do something small and nurturing, like taking a warm bath, putting on cozy socks, or lying down under a blanket?)

It’s Okay to Be Confused About Comfort

Sometimes comfort food feels like it’ll help, and sometimes it doesn’t. It’s not a “bad” thing to crave—it’s just your brain saying, “I need some care.” The trick is figuring out what kind of care will actually feel good, whether that’s candy, a warm cup of tea, or just letting yourself rest.

Marie L.