The Silent Trigger That Wrecks People With Trauma Every Day (NOT What You Think)

There is a nearly universal, powerful trigger for symptoms of childhood PTSD — and chances are you experience it. Many people do, not only those who have CPTSD, and most have never recognized it for what it is. That trigger is hurrying. Rushing is so common that it seems normal; we all do it constantly. But for those who grew up with trauma, rushing can quickly spiral into overwhelm. You might assume it’s impossible to stop hurrying because life feels so packed with tasks, but when you rush while working or caring for children, it can undermine the very things that matter most. For trauma survivors, hurrying often sparks nervous-system dysregulation. Once I grasped what neurological dysregulation looked like and dedicated myself to learning how to re-regulate — the work I focus on in my teachings — I noticed that hurrying provokes dysregulation as strongly as well-known triggers like abandonment, criticism, or threats to physical safety. Hurrying is a huge, under-discussed trigger. I am especially prone to it because I habitually try to squeeze in more than is physically feasible, and like many with childhood PTSD, I periodically tip into overwhelm and dysregulation.
If dysregulation is unfamiliar to you, the short version is this: it’s the central problem for adults who suffered childhood trauma, and it fuels most other symptoms. Everyone becomes dysregulated sometimes, and many people can calm themselves fairly quickly. But those of us who were abused or neglected as children tend to get dysregulated more easily and recover more slowly. On a brain scan, dysregulation looks like brainwave patterns that normally run in harmony getting disrupted by a trigger — which could be an external event, an internal reaction, or something like a near-miss in traffic. Here, “trigger” isn’t merely something upsetting; it’s something that throws the nervous system into disarray. Brainwaves that usually sync up scatter, and a cascade follows: emotions flare up, coordination falters, thinking becomes fragmented, the mind races, the heart pounds, and feelings can feel exaggerated. These disturbances affect bodily systems you don’t consciously sense, such as hormones and immune responses, so the impact of dysregulation can be widespread.
The core of healing CPTSD is learning to notice early signs of dysregulation and re-regulate as quickly as possible. I discovered that for me, rushing and overwhelm were massive triggers, and I teach strategies to address this in my dysregulation boot camp — an online course you can find through the links in the video descriptions or on my website. My book Reeregulated goes into the topic in depth, and there are links to it below as well. For now, here are practical pointers to help you detect the hurrying trigger and begin to change how you respond.
Rushing is deeply normalized in our culture — not necessarily a moral failing, just a common habit. It shows up everywhere: scrambling out the door in the morning, weaving through traffic in panic to arrive on time, or living with a constant sensation of needing to be somewhere else. Chronic lateness is also a trauma-related symptom and often accompanies this pattern. Hurrying can hit when you’re caring for children or working with others; it’s a familiar experience for busy people. Interestingly, most of our rushing is not primarily caused by societal demands or technology but by something more ordinary: procrastination. We delay getting out of bed after an alarm, leave too little time to get where we need to go, and then must speed through the tasks we left until the last minute. One major reason we procrastinate is — again — dysregulation. So the cycle repeats: procrastination fuels dysregulation, which creates rushing, which fuels more dysregulation and more procrastination.
The human mind craves a sense of spaciousness in time, and moving more slowly is naturally re-regulating. Think about when you last lingered under the shower, allowing the water to be a small, pleasant focus, or brushed your teeth without hurrying through it. Constant pushing and speed strain the nervous system, and overwhelm alone can trigger dysregulation. Paradoxically, many of us with PTSD feel anxious about slow, mindful activities because they can bring up uncomfortable emotions. I used to feel chased by a nameless threat — an image I called a pack of wolves — as if I had to keep running or be caught. Sitting in meditation and imagining those wolves arriving showed me that the “threat” was really emotion, often sadness. Allowing the feeling to wash through resulted, at worst, in a brief cry; nothing catastrophic happened. Letting emotions pass like that reduces the urge to sprint through life, to postpone tasks, and to compress time. Slowing down can even increase productivity. When I rush, I lose things, spill coffee down my shirt, and make clumsy driving mistakes; sometimes I end up later because of the hurry. During a period of severe dysregulation I once drove away from a gas station with the pump still attached — twice — oblivious to people yelling after me. I also rear-ended a truck on the freeway during that time. Fortunately the other vehicle had a heavy bumper and no one was hurt, but my car suffered damage. Those experiences compounded my dysregulation, which is why I now have a strict rule: no driving while dysregulated. In some respects, driving in that state can be as risky as driving drunk. This rule underscores how vital it is to become skilled at re-regulating.
When dysregulated, the brain’s activity feels scattered — like water rushing over rocks instead of flowing smoothly — and it becomes difficult to complete multi-step tasks. Filling a gas pump requires remembering a sequence: credit card, zip code, pump, wait, return the hose, tighten the cap, close the door, and then pay attention to traffic as you drive away. Autopilot doesn’t function reliably when you’re dysregulated, so errors multiply. Those hard stretches pushed me to learn about complex PTSD: the kind of PTSD that grows from prolonged exposure to intense stress, often beginning in childhood. Awareness of CPTSD is relatively recent; many doctors and therapists are only now recognizing it, which is encouraging for people affected by it.
In dysregulated states I often lose bodily awareness — bump into things, drop dishes, change my handwriting, and become unable to complete tasks because my attention fragments. Some researchers suggest that many people diagnosed with ADHD may actually have symptoms rooted in complex PTSD, since both conditions can involve trouble maintaining focus and staying on task. The difference is that with CPTSD, learning to re-regulate can allow you to return to tasks repeatedly throughout the day. To cut down on the need to rush, one practical tool is to use lists. It may sound mundane, but lists help. I use a Kanban-style app called KanbanFlow on my computer to record tasks in columns I can name — often by day — color-code, drag, and reorganize. I track everything from video ideas to tax tasks, review the board in the morning and evening (and sometimes midday), delete completed items, and move unfinished tasks to the next day if needed. My brain tends to overestimate how much it can do, but structure and external order reduce dysregulation and free up time for creativity and body awareness. That structure helps me sense when it’s time to prepare for scheduled events I used to miss. Ironically, hurrying usually makes things take longer, so slowing down actually creates time.
Slowing down is particularly nourishing for children. Many people recall the calming influence of slow, deliberate figures like Mister Rogers, whose gentle, measured actions were grounding for many who grew up watching him. Others find similar calm watching Bob Ross paint soft landscapes and speak calmly about “happy trees.” Complex PTSD often makes processing thoughts and feelings difficult — they accumulate and clutter awareness — so even small tasks like finding keys or an address can feel overwhelming. When you can shift into a natural, unhurried rhythm, you regain the capacity to think clearly and to be present. That state supports learning, and having people in your life who model a steady pace can be profoundly reassuring.
If you’re wondering whether past trauma is affecting your present life, there are signs that what you’re struggling with now may be connected to childhood neglect or abuse. Recognizing this can normalize your experience and point toward possibilities for healing. You can download a “signs of childhood PTSD” quiz via the top link in the description or by scanning the QR code shown. Many people find meditation helpful to ground themselves, come back into their bodies, and gradually rebuild attention — a foundational skill for CPTSD recovery that I teach across my courses.
When you feel overhurried, an immediate action is to deliberately slow your movements — drop to half-speed for a minute or two. Finish washing a cup or unloading the dryer at half the usual pace so you don’t bang your hand, drop things, or make mistakes. Slowing your actions sends sensory information back to the brain that helps it shift from dysregulation to regulation. Practicing this around any hurry-inducing situation can change your nervous-system response and, over time, transform the trajectory of your life. Dysregulation lies at the root of many childhood-PTSD-related issues — from health problems and cognitive difficulties to social isolation, anger, and trouble connecting with others — and learning to re-regulate is the single most powerful step toward repairing those areas.
If you want to check whether you become dysregulated, there’s a free quiz that lists common signs and shows how often it happens; you can download it by clicking the link provided. I’ve also created a brief daily-practice course that teaches two simple techniques to calm the internal storm when you’re triggered; it’s short, effective, and designed to help you feel clearer and more centered quickly — you can start it by clicking the second link in the description or scanning the QR code. Take a look, and I’ll see you again soon. [Music]