Etikett: healing journey

A quiet morning scene representing the reflection Who am I if I don’t write – when the body says no and the words fall silent.

Who am I if I don’t write?

Who am I if I don’t write?
This question followed me throughout yesterday – when my body said no and the words no longer carried their usual ease. In this post I explore what happens when writing falls silent, when SEO and technique take over, and how an ordinary, tired morning can open up a deeper understanding of myself. I also link to earlier posts like When the Body Reacts Before the Thought and When Feelings Get Stuck in the Body – because they belong to the same journey I’m on.

Read this in Swedish ->Vem är jag om jag inte skriver?


When the Body Says No

Yesterday morning I felt unwell. I had been freezing during the night and was still cold as I sat here writing the post that was supposed to go up. Afterward, a strange feeling came over me – as if something wasn’t quite right. It was like the words I had written were no longer mine, as if something inside me had grown tired. It became too much SEO and too little of myself, and that stirred a question I couldn’t shake off: who am I if I don’t write?


Who Am I If I Don’t Write – When the Words Fall Silent?

It’s really a question I don’t even want to ask, but that I feel I have to explore.
Because what do I do when I’m not writing?
Well – I clean, cook, take care of my family. I browse the internet, drink tea, withdraw into myself. But none of that is the whole of me. It’s not the part that is curious, eager to learn, fascinated by people and psychology – the part that can’t be touched but still steers so much. Exactly what I wrote about in The Body Remembers – Survival Strategies and Self-Healing.


A Slow Morning That Taught Me More Than I Expected

When the uneasiness washed over me yesterday, I chose something different.
A quiet morning.

I made the bed slowly, walked around in my robe, felt low. My morning swims had been skipped for several days, and today I chose not to push through either. The feverish feeling and the tiredness got to decide, and I listened.

After a while at the computer, I picked up my study book again, read a little and reflected. But when it was enough, I knew I needed air. I drove down into town, went to the pharmacy and bought the little things that help me feel better. Small things – but important ones. It felt like every small action carried me a little bit.


Small Steps Back to Myself

When the items were in the car, I walked to the hairdresser.
It wasn’t really planned – my steps just took me there.

I have long hair, always in a ponytail, heavy to wash and brush, and I don’t like when it falls into my face. But I’ve just endured it. Yesterday it was time for a change. I booked a time – and today I’m going.

I don’t know yet how short it will be. I’ll feel it when I sit there.
Maybe the change begins right here, in the small things.

When I came home, something felt different. Not like everything was fine, but like something had shifted. As if I had taken a small step toward myself. Small everyday actions became small reminders that I still exist even when the words go quiet.

Maybe the answer to the question “who am I if I don’t write?” isn’t a word at all – but this:
I am still me, even then.
I live in the in-between spaces too.
I am not only my texts.

And to understand all of this a bit better, I also read a section about recovery and rest on 1177.se (external link), just to remind myself that sometimes the body needs more time than the mind wants to admit.

Reflection on who I am when I don’t write, in a quiet morning of self-care.

Reflection

Looking back at yesterday, I see how easy it is to lose yourself in everything you think you have to do. SEO, meta, structure and tech are good tools – but they must not become my boundaries.

My body showed me that I needed to rest, slow down, and make space for myself.
I am not less Carina just because I write less on a given day.
I am still me, even in the quiet.


Between the Lines – My Voice

This isn’t really about a blog post or a bad day.
It’s about identity.

About how I sometimes forget that I am a human being first and a writer second.
I need my words – but I also need the silence.

I don’t exist in the boxes that are meant to turn green.
I exist in the feelings, in the steps toward the pharmacy, in the rest, in the decision to book a haircut.
That’s where my voice lives.


A Question for You Who Read

What happens to you when a part of you falls silent for a while – and how do you find your way back?


Kallbad som självläkning medan jag bloggar på två språk om trauma, mod och förändring.

Carina Ikonen Nilsson

Yesterday is already resting in history. Tomorrow will come when it does.
Right now is what matters.
This is where life happens.

— Carina Ikonen Nilsson


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When feelings get stuck in the body and create tension – the body speaking before the mind.

English Version – When Feelings Get Stuck in the Body

When feelings get stuck in the body, they can create reactions long before the mind has time to understand what’s happening. In this post, I write about what happens when feelings stay in the body, why it happens, and how I try to understand those feelings instead of pushing them away.

Read this post in Swedish ->När känslor fastnar i kroppen – och hur jag lär mig lyssna


When the Body Remembers What the Mind Has Forgotten

When feelings get stuck in the body, I often react physically before I react mentally. A tightness in the chest, tense shoulders, or a sense of the breath stopping halfway. These are the bodily signals that tell me something old is waking up, not something that actually belongs to the moment I’m in.

As a child, I had feelings I didn’t have words for. The body took what I couldn’t express. It held together what no one else saw. So it’s not strange that these old reactions still show up—the body continues until I show that I am ready to take over.

When I pause and listen, I often realize the feeling does not belong to today. It’s an old reaction, an old memory the body shows me because I can handle it now. That’s when I can say:

“I hear you. This is old. You protected me then. I can take care of myself now.”

And that in itself is a part of the healing process.


Fight, Flight, or Staying With Myself – My Choice Today

Before, I mostly reacted through either flight or fight.
Flight could be the bed, music, silence, or shutting down my feelings.
Fight could be anger, irritation, or defensiveness.
Those were my ways of surviving.

Today I try something different:
I stay.

It doesn’t mean I always manage, but it means I try. When I stay with myself, I see that the feelings aren’t threats—they’re information. They show where it once hurt, and why today’s reaction becomes strong even when the situation is small.

I don’t need to perform, defend myself, or shrink.
I only need to ask:

“Does this reaction belong to today—or does it belong to history?”

When I do that, the drama falls away.
And I find my calm again.


Listening to the Body – Without Judgment

When feelings get stuck in the body, it’s easy to judge myself.
To think I should be over something.
But feelings don’t work that way.
The body reacts before logic does.

When my shoulders rise, my stomach tightens, and my breath gets stuck, I know an old feeling is active. I don’t try to push it away. I try to understand what it’s really saying:

Is it loneliness?
Smallness?
Sorrow?
Fear of not being enough?

The feeling needs time.
And words.
When I find the words, the feeling loses some of its intensity.

Sometimes I quietly say:

“I’m sorry you had to scream. I’m listening now.”

It calms me.
And it calms the body.


When Old Feelings Appear in Everyday Moments

The strongest reactions rarely come during big events.
They come when something small reminds the body of something old—a tone of voice, a look, a single word.

Then the body can say:

“You’re about to be exposed.”
“You’ll be small again.”

This is often about old shame and old stories from a time when I didn’t have words or safety.

It also shows up when I stand in my bigger self—when I’m grounded, honest, clear.
That’s often when someone else, who feels insecure, reacts.
Not to push me down, but because my steadiness touches something in them.

But today I know I shouldn’t shrink.
I shouldn’t go down to someone else’s level.
I shouldn’t abandon myself so someone else can feel bigger.

When I stay with myself, both I and the relationship become safer.


The Healing That Comes From Understanding Myself

When I understand why I react the way I do, I no longer need to fight myself.
I don’t need to hide, perform, or explain myself away.
Self-love becomes a natural consequence of understanding.

Then the questions become:

“What do I need right now?”
“Can this wait until I have grounded myself?”

Today, I choose the thoughts that give me calm instead of the automatic ones that pull me down.

They are small shifts.
But they make a big difference.


Small Steps – Big Changes

The real change happens in the small steps.
When I pause and ask:

“Do I need to continue like this?”
“Is there a better path?”

When I notice the small things that work—when I feel gratitude for waking up, writing, feeling—then something shifts in me.

And she is there too:
the little girl inside me who needed more than she received.

I cannot change her history.
But I can give her the care now.

It makes a difference.
For her.
And for me.


Between the Lines – My Voice

What I see between the lines is that everything I feel has a reason. It’s not strange, it’s old. And when I can see it for what it is, it becomes easier to meet myself with respect instead of demands. It makes me calmer, because then I know I don’t have to change everything at once—I only need to understand what is happening inside me.


Aha – My Insight

My aha here is that healing isn’t about removing feelings, but understanding them. When I understand why something feels big, the pressure in my body softens on its own. I don’t need to fight myself anymore. I need to listen, not perform.


Reflection – My Thought Today

My reflection is that I’m beginning to trust myself in a new way. It feels unfamiliar but right. At the same time, I know I will never be “finished.” No one is. Development has to stay alive. If I fall asleep in my own process, the old truths sneak back again. That’s why I keep writing and understanding—it keeps me awake in myself.


Quote

Yesterday has already settled into history. Tomorrow waits further ahead. But right now—this is where life happens.

Carina Ikonen Nilsson


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A full moon in a clear blue sky – a symbol of leaving the victim role behind and letting the past rest while the light guides the way forward.

Leaving the Victim Role – Choosing Freedom and Presence

Leaving the victim role isn’t about denying what happened – it’s about understanding that the past doesn’t have to shape the future.
In this post, I reflect on how we can let go of what once was, meet our inner child with warmth, and choose thoughts that open the way to freedom, gratitude, and life in the present moment.

The moon reminds me that everything changes – the past can rest while new light takes form.

Read this post in Swedish →Lämna offerrollen – när historien får vila och jag väljer att leva nu


Morning, coffee, and a new beginning

My coffee stands beside me. The cat has gone out for her morning walk, and the silence inside feels calm and safe.
It’s one of those quiet mornings when something inside you has shifted, even though the world outside looks the same.

Yesterday… yes, everything that was yesterday, last week, last year, or even when I was little – all of that belongs to history now.
It’s already happened. I can’t change it, undo it, or polish away what still aches.

I’ve written before about how thoughts influence emotions in my post Living with Positive Psychology. It’s about consciously choosing where to place your focus – just like I do here.


When the past whispers – and how hard it can be to leave the victim role

I’ve spent many hours, maybe years, thinking about what happened back then.
Some memories hurt deeply; others carried guilt or shame.
When I thought about them, I got stuck in the same loop – same thoughts, same feelings, same pain.

It was like wearing an old cardigan – cold, itchy, and faintly smelling of something forgotten.
Still, I kept it on because it was familiar.
I thought, “I feel this way because that happened.”

A knitted cardigan hanging in soft morning light – a symbol of leaving the victim role behind and choosing warmth, self-love and a new way of living.
The old cardigan still hangs there, but the morning light reminds me – I can choose something new.

And so, I held on.
The cardigan became part of me.
The victim role too.

The victim role is like a quiet thief.
It steals joy, piece by piece.
It whispers that you can’t, that you’re stuck, that you’re helpless.
And it makes you believe someone else must save you.

But that old cardigan can feel kind of cozy too, can’t it?
It smells familiar, feels safe – almost soft against the skin.
There’s comfort in the known, like an old map we’ve memorized by heart.
But that map doesn’t lead anywhere anymore.
It takes us back to the same place, again and again.

And I want to move forward now.

Question for you:
Have you ever noticed yourself holding on to a thought that only hurts you?
Which “cardigan” do you keep wearing, even though you no longer need it?

The cardigan becomes a symbol for all the things we carry – what once felt safe but now holds us back.
Leaving the victim role begins right there, in the awareness that what feels safe isn’t always what helps us grow.


When I started listening to myself

One day, I grew tired of feeling cold in that old cardigan.
That was the day I met the curious Carina within me – the part of me that wants to understand, grow, take responsibility, and feel well.

I realized the past didn’t have to be my prison anymore.
It could become my teacher.

What hurts today often resembles what once hurt before.
Those are my triggers – small messages from the body whispering:
“Here lies something you haven’t yet healed.”

Each time I pause, breathe, and stay with what I feel instead of hiding from it, something quiet happens.
I grow.


Meeting the child within

I’ve realized I must give that little girl inside me what she never received.
The one who was scared, sad, unseen – she doesn’t have to wait for someone else to comfort her anymore.

I can place her on my lap, hold her close, and say:

“It wasn’t your fault.
You were worthy of love, warmth, and safety.
You were worthy of being loved – exactly as you are.”

When I’ve done that enough times, I can finally lay down the cardigan.

Question for you:
Can you see your own inner child?
What would you want to tell them – if you could speak today?

I write more about this in to heal you self.


Choosing a new sweater – and a new way of thinking

I’m trading that old cardigan for a soft wool sweater – one that warms instead of weighing me down.
The difference is, this sweater is one I’ve chosen myself.

It’s woven from awareness, responsibility, and gratitude.
From thoughts that strengthen rather than sting.

I can’t change what was, but I can change how I relate to it.
When old thoughts appear, I ask myself:
“Does this thought serve me right now?”

If the answer is no – I change it.
I choose a thought that brings warmth instead of cold.

Question for you:
Which thought would you like to start choosing more often?
One that makes you lighter, calmer – or simply more present right now?


Choosing to leave the victim role and live freely

Today, I choose happiness – not because everything is easy, but because I know I can.
I choose gratitude. I choose to meet myself with gentleness.

I no longer have to feel bad just because something once hurt.
Because now I know I have the right to feel good – despite it all.

When I decided to leave the victim role behind, life slowly began to feel lighter.

Right now, I sit here with coffee in hand and peace in my body.
I feel like my own best friend.

And that – that is freedom.


Reflection – Leaving the victim role in your own story

This is a text about outgrowing your history.
About no longer wearing the cardigan of the victim role, but instead choosing the sweater that truly warms.
To understand that it’s not what happened, but how we think about it, that shapes our day.

If you enjoy this kind of writing, you might also like Good Morning – What Do You Think About the New Layout?, where I write about how silence can teach us something about ourselves.


From my therapist training – a reflection

In my studies to become a certified counselor, I’m learning how thoughts, emotions, and bodily memories are intertwined.
When I write about leaving the victim role, it also mirrors what we practice in therapy – helping ourselves and others take responsibility for feelings, recognize triggers, and choose new ways of thinking.
Writing becomes my own conversation – a way to listen to myself and grow.

This text is about the courage to leave the victim role behind and embrace the possibility of living fully, here and now.

Between the Lines – What the Text Reveals

This is a text about the courage to see yourself without running away.
About daring to let go of what once felt safe, but now keeps you from moving forward.
It tells of how healing begins in something as quiet as a thought being replaced, a feeling being allowed to breathe, a choice made right here and now.

Between the lines, it is also about me – a woman who no longer carries her history as a burden, but as wisdom.
I have learned to leave the victim role without denying the pain.
To see it as a teacher, not a judge.
And it is in that stillness – between the coffee, the words, and the breath – that life truly happens.


malix.se/ Carina Ikonen Nilsson

“Yesterday’s cardigan might still hang there, breathing history – but it’s airing in today’s light and can change into the future.
Maybe it will be unraveled and knitted again, in today’s colors and feelings.”
— Carina Ikonen Nilsson


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