How to Regulate Your Nervous System when Neurodivergent ~ Life & Style with Bry Jaimea

Let me set the scene

You’re sat on the floor in your dressing gown, one sock on, half a green smoothie sitting forgotten somewhere, and your phone pinging with a calendar reminder for that papsmear you swore you’d cancelled. Your hair’s in a bun (held up with good intentions), you’re emotionally invested in three different TikTok consipracies, and you’ve just cried because your Cheezels are out of date. No judgement. This isn’t chaos. This is you. And regulating your nervous system? Well. That sounds like a task for someone who wears linen, does pilates and eats acai bowls.

But here you are. A glorious, overstimulated, potentially neurospicy chaos goblin with a dream of inner peace and the attention span of a squirrel with an espresso machine. Welcome. I’m not here to turn you into someone you’re not. You don’t need to wear beige or light candles or do breathwork on a rock at sunrise. I’m here to help you be your chaotic little self and not want to scream into a pillow every day. That’s the balance.

This is for the girlies who mean well, try hard, get overwhelmed, spiral into decision fatigue, eat popcorn for dinner, and still keep showing up. Your nervous system doesn’t need a rebrand. It just needs a moment. And maybe a snack.

Understanding the Chaos Within

First things first: your nervous system isn’t trying to ruin your life. It’s just a bit dramatic. Like, theatre-kid-during-rehearsals dramatic. It’s constantly scanning for threats, real or imagined, and when it gets spooked, it throws you into fight, flight, freeze, or my personal favourite: faff. Or, what you might call it doomscrolling for four hours and forgetting to brush your hair. Same thing.

When you’re neurodivergent, perimenopausal, heartbroken, grieving, or just very online, your system can get stuck in survival mode. That’s when everything feels loud, urgent, and a bit impossible. It’s not that you’re lazy or weak or broken. You’re just overstimulated. The wires are buzzing. And honestly? No one functions well when they’re emotionally deep-fried.

What we need is to teach the body that it’s safe. Not perfect. Not healed. Just safe. That’s it. Once your system realises no one’s coming to throw you in a volcano or make you join a Church group, it can unclench. The goal here isn’t to be calm. It’s to feel like you can handle things. Even the cringey ones.

Bring It Back to the Body

You cannot regulate your nervous system using vibes alone. I know. Been there, tried that. You can chant affirmations until your vocal cords give out, but if your jaw is clenched and your shoulders are on secondment as earmuffs, you’re still running on emergency mode. The body needs cues. It needs proof. And it needs a bit of … gentle manipulation.

Start with physicality. Movement doesn’t need to mean gym memberships or green juices. It can be shaking your hands out like you’ve touched something gross, stomping your feet, doing a weird interpretive dance to Alanis Morrisette, or stretching like a cat after a nap. You don’t have to be elegant. You just have to move.

Temperature can work magic too. A hot shower, a cold splash of water on your face, hugging a hot water bottle like it’s your one true love. These things literally reset your vagus nerve*, which is like the switchboard for your nervous system, and it loves a bit of warm and cold.

*not to be confused with the Vegas Nerve, which is when you’re melting down in sequins, holding a mimosa, and rethinking your life choices.

Snacks and Sips (Yes, Really)

Listen. I once regulated my entire nervous system with a bag of crinkle cut, Avocado oil, crisps and a glass of sparkling water. The body is not subtle. Sometimes it’s not trauma or unhealed wounds or unmet childhood needs. Sometimes it’s just that you’ve not eaten a complex carbohydrate since Tuesday.

Blood sugar is the diva of the nervous system. If it dips, everything else panics. You’ll start crying because someone looked at you wrong, snap at your cat, and then wonder why you hate everyone. But really? You just needed a sandwich. Or a banana. Or a banana sandwich if you’re feeling rebellious.

Also, hydration. I know you know. But water isn’t optional. Get your Frank Green emotional support bottle and drink your silly little sips like you’re starring in a lifestyle vlog. I am personally fuelled by sparkling water, matcha lattes, and spite. And if I can hydrate, so can you.

And no, wine doesn’t count as hydration.

Touch Something Real

Your nervous system loves tangible things. Like soft blankets. A cute butt (or boobs, preferably your own). Or petting your chaotic cat even though he bites you sometimes because he’s a demon in a fur coat.* Physical touch and sensory anchors bring you back into your body.

Try texture play. Rub your feet on freshly laundered sheets. Hold a crystal. Wrap yourself in your fluffiest dressing gown and pretend you’re a bear. You need to give your body proof that it’s here, not trapped in a panicked memory or a spiralling thought loop.

Also: clean one surface. Just one. Wipe down the kitchen bench. Make your bed. Pick up three socks. Don’t try to fix your whole life. Just signal to your brain that the world is not out of control. Because it isn’t. Not really. Not if you’ve got clean sheets and a cat purring on your chest.

*So the other day, Lulu knew I was about to leave the house and decided to throw a little tantrum. Naturally, he turned on the charm, purring and asking for a pat like the sweet boy he pretends to be. I reached down, foolishly thinking this was a moment of love. But no. He gently guided my hand straight to his mouth and, while holding unbroken eye contact, bit me like I’d personally betrayed him in a past life.

Sensory Reboot Stations

Build yourself a little nervous system recovery corner. I call mine the Goblin Nest. It’s literally just my bathroom illuminated by candlelight, some Parisian Jazz, a face mask and a hot shower. This is where I go when the world gets Too Much.

Your version might be a playlist, a pile of books, a meditation app you open once a month, or a little basket of sneaky-snacks and tactile goodies. This is not a productivity zone. This is where you go to remember you’re a human being and not a broken Roomba screaming into the void.

It’s helpful to have this space ready before the meltdown. You won’t build a sanctuary mid-spiral. So prep it when you’re feeling okay. Stock it like a care package from your past self. Put your favourite tea there. A face mist. A tiara. I don’t care. Just make it yours.

Chaos Is Not the Enemy

Here’s the thing. You don’t need to be less chaotic. You just need to feel safe within the chaos. Because, my darling, it’s not going anywhere. It’s part of who we are. We are always going to feel a bit more than most people. We will always cry during Pixar films and get overwhelmed in Kmart*. You will forget what day it is and eat Cheezels for dinner. And that’s okay.

The goal isn’t to eliminate chaos. It’s to regulate within it. To dance in the mess. To breathe through the overstimulation. And to make space for joy even when you’re spiralling. Because life isn’t always going to give you a slow morning and a matcha latte. But you can still be okay.

Regulation doesn’t mean being chill. It means being present. Knowing when to say, “Right. We’re losing the plot a bit. Let’s have a snack, a sip, a sit.” It’s the pause. The exhale. The moment you choose care over panic. That’s where your magic lives.

*Yes, I have had panic attacks in Kmart – I had just moved back to Australia after 7 years in the UK, and 2 years of Covid Lockdown, never being in a room with more than 10 people at a time. First day back in Australia, and my sister takes me to Kmart. I was so deep-fried I could have been served at a Scottish Chippy.

You are not behind. You are not broken. You are just slightly fried. Like a delicious little chip.

Final Sips of Sanity

If all else fails, go back to the basics. Drink some water. Eat something salty. Lie on the floor like you’ve been slain by capitalism. Hold your boobs and remind yourself: I am safe. I am here. I am not behind. I am not broken.

The chaos doesn’t need to be fixed. It needs to be witnessed. Held. Given a snack and a nap. The most radical thing you can do as a chaos goblin in this loud, busy, relentless world is to self-soothe. To regulate without shaming yourself. To exist loudly, kindly, and with snacks.

You don’t need to get it perfect. You just need to keep coming home to yourself. And maybe wash your hair. But one thing at a time, babe. One thing at a time.

We Need to Stop Clapping for Basic Decency – Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity

In today's episode of Chaos, Crumbs and Clarity, we're unpacking why we need to stop clapping for basic decency. You know the script. A man texts back within twenty-four hours and we're screenshotting it to the group chat. A man plans a date more than three hours in advance and we call him a unicorn. A man manages to listen, pay attention, and behave like a fully formed adult, and our nervous systems short-circuit because we genuinely don't know how to receive it.Here's the truth nobody is saying out loud. The bar has been dragged so low that Satan himself needs a chiropractor after a competitive round of limbo. We've been culturally trained to be grateful for behaviour that should not require gratitude. We've been told these things are bonuses when they're actually the entry requirement. And in the meantime, women have been quietly doing the basic decency thing forever, without applause, while men get standing ovations for outputs we generated for them.Today we're talking about why a great man is genuinely just an average woman, who benefits when the bar stays low, the invisible labour women have been performing for free for centuries, and the friend-test that cuts straight through every excuse we've ever made for mediocre men. Let's get into it.For more visit BryJaimea.com or follow over on IG @BryJaimea

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