Hypervigilant, Exhausted, and Numb: What PTSD Can Actually Look Like

Tracy Larson
Jun 23
4 min read

You don’t have to be a soldier or a first responder to have PTSD. And you don’t have to be falling apart to be struggling.

Sometimes, PTSD doesn’t look like flashbacks or panic attacks. Sometimes, it looks like holding it all together so well that no one notices you’re breaking.

That’s the version no one talks about. The version where you show up to work. You answer emails. You make dinner. But your jaw is always tight. Your sleep is shallow. And you flinch when a door slams a little too hard.

You’re not dramatic. You’re not attention-seeking. And you’re not imagining this.

Let’s talk about the quiet version of PTSD

PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) doesn’t always announce itself with nightmares and dramatic flashbacks. Especially not in people who have learned to be high-functioning in the middle of chaos.

Here’s what it can look like:

You’re constantly scanning your surroundings. Not in a paranoid way… but enough to know where every exit is, who’s behind you in line, or whether the conversation just got tense.
You feel emotionally flat. Things that used to make you feel excited, sad, or angry… don’t register anymore. You’re going through the motions, but the feelings don’t quite reach.
Your fuse is short. You’re snappy or irritable. Sometimes you explode, and then feel ashamed. But the pressure builds, and you don’t know where else to put it.
You can’t relax, even when things are “fine.” On paper, your life is stable. But your nervous system never got the memo. You’re still in survival mode.
You avoid things without fully realizing it. Certain people, places, conversations. You don’t think about them too hard. You just don’t go there.

If any of that hit a nerve, I want you to pause for a second. Take a breath. Because that reaction? That matters.

But I didn’t go through “real” trauma…

This is something I hear a lot in therapy: “I don’t think I deserve to call it trauma.” “I wasn’t in a war or a car accident.” “I just had a rough childhood.” “It was emotional—not physical.”

Here’s what I’ll say every time:

Trauma isn’t about what happened—it’s about how your body responded. If your nervous system never got to come down, if you never got to feel safe again, then your body is still reacting as if the danger is ongoing.

You might have learned how to smile through it. How to achieve through it. How to caretake and keep the peace and never, ever let your guard down.

But that doesn’t mean your body is okay.

Trauma lives in the body. Even when your brain doesn’t want to talk about it.

You might notice your shoulders are always tense. Your jaw always clenched. Your stomach uneasy.

You might get migraines or chronic pain that no doctor seems to be able to explain. You might struggle with sleep, digestion, sex, memory, concentration.

This is your body whispering. Or maybe yelling. That something is still unresolved.

What therapy can actually look like when you’re in survival mode

You don’t have to relive every detail of your trauma to heal. You don’t have to cry every session. And you don’t have to know where to start.

Therapy for PTSD (especially with approaches like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), and trauma-sensitive care) isn’t about rehashing.

It’s about reconnecting.

Here’s what it might look like in practice:

Learning to recognize when your body is in a threat response and how to interrupt it before it spirals.
Mapping out your triggers, the subtle ones, like a tone of voice or a look.
Saying things out loud you’ve never said before and having someone say, “That makes sense,” instead of “That’s not that bad.”
Reclaiming lost pieces of yourself: the creativity, the calm, the joy, the agency.
Building trust with your body again. Through grounding tools, through movement, through rest. Therapy helps you listen to what your body has been trying to say.

If you’re just trying to hold it all together, this is for you

You might be doing everything “right.” You might be working, parenting, performing.

But you’re tired. Not regular tired, nervous system tired.

If your life feels like it runs on hypervigilance, you’re not broken. You’re reacting exactly the way a body reacts when it’s been in survival mode for too long.

You might feel like your trauma “wasn’t that bad.” But your symptoms are telling another story.

You deserve to feel safe. Even now. Even here.

At HML Wellness Solutions, we work with clients in Prince George and across BC who are carrying invisible loads. Many of them don’t fit the classic image of PTSD—but the symptoms are there.

We specialize in therapy for anxiety and PTSD, and we approach your care with compassion, evidence-based tools, and zero judgment. We offer online and in-person sessions, because we know it’s hard to make time when you’re already stretched thin.

We also work with clients through ICBC. If your trauma is linked to a motor vehicle accident, we can direct bill ICBC so that your healing doesn’t have to wait behind a stack of paperwork.