When You’ve Been Through Too Much to Pretend You’re Fine

You’re not lazy. You’re not inconsistent. You’re not broken.
 You’ve just been in survival mode for so long, your body forgot what peace feels like.

In this episode, Keren Elijah shares a personal story—one that starts with dizziness, moves through hospital visits, and ends with a life-altering wake-up call about what the body remembers. Through the lens of nervous system safety, she teaches how exhaustion, overwhelm, and shutdown are not failures—they’re signals. And they deserve to be honored.

Whether you’re building a business, managing a team, or just trying to show up for your life, this episode offers truth that lands:
 You don’t have to perform to be powerful.
 You don’t have to pretend to be okay.
 You don’t have to keep pushing through pain.

This is your permission to pause.
 To check in.
 To come home to yourself.

Transcript

Hey, friend.

Before we go deep,
 let’s take one breath together.

 Just like that.

I don’t know where this finds you.
 Maybe you’re driving through traffic.
 Maybe you’re sitting in silence.
 Maybe the house is loud, but your heart is so quiet.

Wherever you are—you are welcome here.

This episode is for the woman who’s tired…
 but doesn’t know why.

You’re showing up.
 You’re doing the things.
 You’re planning.
 You’re praying.
 You’re even producing.

But deep down—
 it feels like you’re bracing.

And today?
 We’re going to name that.

This episode is not hype.
 It’s a healing one.

A few months ago,
 I noticed I was waking up already tired.
 Not just “I need more sleep” tired—
 I mean bone tired.
 Soul tired.

It felt like I had already lived the whole day
 before I even got out of bed.

I brushed it off.
 I said, “It’s burnout. I’m just doing too much.”
 But rest didn’t help.
 The tired stayed.

Then it started showing up in my work.
 I couldn’t write like I used to.
 My voice didn’t want to show up online.
 Even the things I love started to feel heavy.

One day,
 I was recording something for Say What You Do™—my audio course—
and I just broke down crying.

Not because I was sad…
 but because my body felt like it was screaming:
 “I don’t feel safe here.”

And then—there was this one day.

I kept feeling dizzy.
 I said it casually, like, “Oh, I’m just dizzy.”
 I didn’t take it seriously.

My mom kept saying,
 Keren, go to the hospital.
And me? I kept saying,
“Ah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll go… eventually.”

Spoiler:
 I was not fine.

I finally went to the hospital.
 Yes—they found malaria.
 But then they checked my blood pressure.

And the doctor looked at me and said,
 “If you hadn’t come when you did, you could have had a stroke.”

A stroke?!
 Me?
 God forbid. I rejected it in Jesus’ name—right there in the room.

The Nigeria in me and the Christ in me both rose up at once.
 But it hit me hard.

My body had been warning me—
 long before the dizziness.
 Long before the tears.
 Long before I listened.

A few nights later,
 I ended up back in the hospital again.
 That same night I originally said I’d go.
 When my mom first told me.

I found myself there… at night…
 because I didn’t listen the first time.

And I thought—
 what if I hadn’t gone that first day?
What if I just kept brushing it off?

My mom was scared.
 Honestly—I was scared too.

So let me say this as clearly as I can:

If your body has been talking—listen.

If something doesn’t feel right—go get it checked.

Let it be that they find nothing.
Let it be that you walk away with peace of mind.
But please—go.

Because your body doesn’t whisper forever.
 Eventually—it will scream.

Let’s talk about nervous system safety.
Not in a textbook way—
in real life.

Your nervous system is your body’s alarm system.
 It helps you know when you’re safe…
 and when you’re not.

But if you’ve been through trauma,
 grief, instability, or constant stress—
 your alarm can get stuck.

Even when the threat is gone,
 your body keeps acting like danger is just around the corner.

So what do you do?
 You brace.
 You flinch.
 You overthink.
 You overproduce.
 You shrink.
 You hustle—
 not for success, but for survival.

That’s when you start thinking,
 “I’m just inconsistent. I’m the problem.”

But no.
 Your body’s been trying to protect you.

Let me ask you:

• Do you flinch when your phone rings?
• Do you rehearse Slack replies like you’re on stage?
• Do you keep Zoom on even when your brain has logged out?
• Do you ghost people after launching or posting something bold?
• Do you feel sick before pitching—or spiral after sending an email?

That’s not procrastination.
 That’s not incompetence.

That’s your nervous system saying:
“This doesn’t feel safe.”

Especially if:

• You’re the only one in the room who looks like you
• You’re the youngest
• You’re Black, brown, an immigrant
• Or you’ve been told you have to work twice as hard to prove you belong

That pressure?
 It doesn’t just live in your schedule.
 It lives in your body.

So you smile with a clenched jaw.
 Lead meetings while holding your breath.
 Post boldly—and spiral for hours.

That’s not a character flaw.
 That’s dysregulation.

So here’s what I started doing differently:

• I stopped calling myself inconsistent.
• I stopped praying for hustle—and started praying for peace.
• I started building from breath, not burnout.

And I began asking my body,
 “What do you need from me today?”

Sometimes it says,
 “Rest.”
 Sometimes it says,
 “Cry.”
 Sometimes it says,
 “Create—but from a calm place.”

And the more I listened—
 The more I healed.

Because I realized—
 If I keep ignoring my body,
 I’m not just risking burnout.

I’m risking breakdown.
 And not just for me.

My parents already lost one child.
 They will not lose another
 because I refused to listen to my body.
 God, help me.

So if you’re listening to this and it hits you deep—
 here’s a small step:

Ask your body:
“What do you need from me that I’ve been ignoring?”

And then—listen.
No judgment.
No fixing.
No guilt.

Just… listen.

You are not weak for needing rest.
 You are not less called for building slowly.
 You are not behind.
 You are healing.

And healing takes time.
 It takes honesty.
 Not hustle.
 Not performance.
 Not perfection.

You don’t need to leave your job to come home to your body.
 You don’t have to burn it all down to begin again.

You just need to honor the woman
 under the blazer,
 under the title,
 under the doing—
 who’s been surviving for so long,
 she forgot what peace felt like.

So here’s your permission:

Breathe.
Pause.
Check in.
Build differently.

And yes—
 you are still a leader when you do.

Please go for that checkup.
 Take that break.
 Listen when your body speaks.

I’ll see you in the next episode,
 where I’ll walk you through how I’m building now:
 voice-first, breath-friendly, and safe for my soul.

But for now?

Rest.