Grounding Techniques to Interrupt Dissociation

This post was co-authored by Laura O'Loughlin.

Steering out of a driveway, I noticed a squirrel sprint onto the sidewalk near my car, so I stopped to watch. A companion squirrel ran after and stopped as well. The first squirrel started convulsing which turned into a long violent seizure. The other squirrel and I watched, stunned. After many moments, the first squirrel died. The other one, in a very human sort of way, looked distraught, scared, and sad. As I watched this scene, I noticed a fog descend over me. I was frozen and floaty. I couldn’t think straight. This was a familiar feeling; I was dissociating.

The sort of dissociation I am referring to is that feeling of disconnecting from physical reality—people describe it in a variety of ways: feeling checked out, blurred out, outside of one’s body, here but not here, spacey. It has many iterations and degrees, from a mild moment of lost time to feeling like you’re floating above your body, to a complete separation from one’s primary personality.

Here’s the thing about the dissociative state: compared to what is happening in front of us (like watching a dying squirrel or, more commonly, feeling personally threatened), it feels pretty good. The neurobiological processes that underlie dissociation are similar to those that occur when one is under the influence of certain psychoactive drugs

But there’s a downside.

Outside of responding to an imminent threat, habitual dissociation is a problem.

Some people lean toward the habit of dissociating a lot, the way that other people might lean toward hyper-vigilance or panic or angry outbursts (not that any of these states are mutually exclusive).

Dissociation is wired in as a means of helping us tolerate life threats or alarming encounters. However, when we’re dissociating in the day-to-day, it’s problematic. In other words: dissociating during a car collision is expected; dissociating when your boss is asking for clarification is a problem. In a dissociative state, one is not able to interact with others or the environment in an effective way. It’s hard to manage confrontations, it’s hard to feel connected and loved, and it dampens the richness of life experiences. Despite this, the dissociative state pulls and lures.

Grounding Yourself

It takes gentle diligence to notice times when you're checking out and then to reel it back in — to reconnect with your bodies. There are classic ways of grounding the body that many therapists teach clients. “Focus on the bottom of your feet and imagine roots growing down,” “describe five things you see, four things you hear, three things you can feel,” “push against a wall, or push hand against hand,” and “hold onto a piece of ice.”

Here are some of my favorite grounding exercises:

• A weighted walk: There is something about weight that can be soothing and grounding for many people (thus the popularity of weighted blankets). So, I take this idea outside. When on a hike or walk in nature, I pick up rocks — big ones that fit fully in my palms. Maybe it just rained, and they are damp and a little muddy; maybe the sun is shining and they’ve become warm. I pick up different ones until I find two that feel just right cradled in each palm. While holding one rock in each hand, I pause to notice the sensation fully. Then, I continue my walk, noticing the sensation in my hands, the sensation of my feet hitting the ground and how the added weight affects my gait. Paying attention to all the details can be quite pleasant and grounding.
• Back support. This is not new or creative, but it works for me. When feeling anxious or dissociative, lower back support elicits a sense of physical safety and promotes presence. I’m lying down on my side, I push a heavy pillow up to my back or lean into the wall. If I’m sitting up, I put a pillow at the lower arch. If I want to enhance the experience, I also add weight on my chest as well.
• Swimming: Swimming, preferably in the ocean or a pool, where it requires active engagement, is a surefire way to regain a sense of being present. If I must navigate waves, it’s better.
• Vacuuming: That’s it. Just vacuuming wakes up a sense of embodiment. It also helps me feel connected to and respectful of my environment. So simple. It even elicits gratitude.
• Peeling baked beets: The process of cooking a meal from scratch, in and of itself, can be quite grounding: washing, chopping, timing, smelling, tasting. Here’s the recipe: Bake whole beets (with skins on!) wrapped in aluminum foil at 350 degrees. Once soft, take them out of the oven and let them cool, in the foil. Once cool enough to handle, dunk the beets in a big bowl of water. As you hold the beets, their skins slide off easily. I find that the tactile sensation of the skins sliding off the beets to elicit a calm, mindful experience, a grounded state.

Here’s the big secret about grounding: There’s no formula. The most effective ways to ground are the ones you discover for yourself through trial and error or through happenstance. There’s no universal formula. Take initiative in learning what you respond to. No matter what you choose to do, assume an attitude of curiosity about you in your body: what do I feel in my feet, my hands, my shoulders? What is my mood, how is my balance? Am I buzzing or jittery or smooth? Am I feeling bouncy or heavy? This mindful stance is like salt in the stew. if you to add that to your activities, it makes everything pop.

Who knows what will work! Experiment. When do you feel that click? Pay attention.