From Lived Experience to Psychotherapeutic Understanding of Dissociation and Social Overwhelm

Have you ever been in a room full of people, people you know, people you trust, and suddenly it feels like they are all blankly staring at you. It feels like you can’t escape, you don’t know why it’s happening, you don’t know what to do. And in that moment, it feels terrifying, if you can relate to this…. Read on

You work all week, you’re busy, tired, but also looking forward to going out, it’s Saturday night and you are meeting with family or friends, a few drinks, a meal, you are looking forward to catching up with everyone. So, you go out, you walk into the pub, you sit down, and everything feels as it should, chatting, laughing, joking. Stories are being swapped. There’s warmth and noise and connection, you are having a great time, everything is fine.

Then, all of a sudden, something changes. It’s subtle at first, but something has changed, you are not sure what it is, but it’s not a nice feeling, but it is a familiar feeling, you’ve experienced this before, the room starts to go quieter, maybe it’s not quieter, maybe it just feels that way to you, you look around and it seems like everyone is looking at you. Everything feels like it’s slowing down, you look at people’s faces. They’re still smiling, still talking, but something feels wrong, the faces look blank and still, the smiles look stuck, like they’re being held in place. Their eyes don’t soften or change. They just stay the same.

You take a second look and tell yourself you’re imagining it, you tell yourself this has to be in your head. But the problem is, this has happened before, and because it has happened before, your body recognises it immediately. The fear hits hard. your chest tightens, your stomach drops. It feels like everyone is watching you, like you’re exposed, like you’re trapped in that moment, and then all of a sudden fear gets stronger, The fear of getting up, the fear that if you stand, someone will stop you or ask where you’re going, or tell you to sit back down, you fear that someone will get in your way, or that people will close in around you, you fear you that you will be trapped.

The still faces make it worse, because now you can’t read them, you can’t tell what they are thinking and you don’t know if it’s safe to move, this is frightening, because you know all of these people, but now, why are they all looking at you, watching you, intensely, with that blank stare, it’s terrifying.. your whole body is telling you to leave, but you hesitate, you don’t want attention, you don’t want to explain, you don’t want to be made stay. Eventually, you get up, and say something vague, you don’t wait for a response, you go, and don’t look back, you don’t want to see those faces, strangely looking at you.

Outside, the air hits your face, and your body starts to settle. You can breathe again. The space around you feels safer, but now another feeling comes, fear of going back in, you stand there wondering if it will happen again the moment you walk through the door. If the faces will go blank again, if that awful sense of being watched and trapped will return, part of you wants to go home, part of you feels embarrassed and part of you is just relieved to be out of the room.

Later, when everything feels normal again, you are left wondering what just happened, why it felt so real, so intense, what it says about you, you fear you are slowly losing your mind.

This is where I want to step out of the story and speak about this from a psychotherapeutic perspective.

If you recognised yourself in that experience, the first thing to know is that it is more common than people realise, it is also deeply unsettling when it happens, many people worry about what it means or fear that it signals something serious or dangerous. From a psychotherapeutic point of view, this is a nervous system response, when the nervous system becomes overwhelmed, overstimulated, or depleted, it can move out of social engagement and into protection. This shift can happen very quickly and without conscious control. In this state, perception can change, faces may appear flat or still, time can feel slowed down, and pace can feel distorted, the urge to escape can feel urgent.

For many people, this response developed earlier in their life, often during times when leaving, pulling away, or feeling safe was not possible. The body learned to stay alert, freeze, and disconnect, these responses made sense then, they helped the person cope and survive, in a situation that they could not escape from. The fear of being trapped, of people closing in, or of being stopped from leaving is part of that same protective response, it reflects the nervous system sensing a loss of control and trying to restore safety, it does not mean that people intend harm or that danger is actually present.

One of the most distressing parts of this experience is how real it feels. When the nervous system is activated, reassurance and logic often do not help, that’s because the body is responding to perceived threat, not conscious thought, understanding this can reduce fear and self-blame. It’s also important to say that this is not the only way dissociation can show up.

Dissociation exists on a spectrum, and people can move along that spectrum at different times. For some, it may look like feeling spaced out, foggy, or disconnected from their surroundings, for others, it can feel like being on autopilot, emotionally numb, or outside of their body. Some people experience the world as unreal, while others feel detached from themselves or their emotions. The experience described in this story is one particular min body state, where dissociation combines with anxiety and social overwhelm. That does not mean this is how dissociation always looks, or that everyone who dissociates will recognise themselves in this exact experience. What links these different states is not how dramatic they appear, but what the body is trying to do, the nervous system is responding to overwhelm by reducing connection in some way, whether through numbing, distancing, zoning out, or preparing to flee. Understanding dissociation in this broader way can help reduce fear and confusion. It allows people to recognise their own responses without needing them to look a certain way, and without judging themselves for how their body copes.

There are also things that can help in the moment.

Reducing how much you focus on faces can make a difference, when the nervous system is activated, studying faces can increase fear, lowering your gaze and focusing on something neutral, such as the floor, a table, or your hands, can help reduce that sense of threat.

Bringing attention to our body and surroundings can also help, noticing your feet on the ground, the chair supporting you, or the sensation of holding a glass can gently re-anchor you in the present moment, slow, steady breathing can support the body to settle, even if it doesn’t feel calming straight away.

Reminding yourself that you have choice is important. Even silently acknowledging “I can step outside” or “I can leave if I need to” can reduce the sense of being trapped, restoring agency is often more helpful than pushing through.

Creating space when needed matters, stepping outside, moving to a quieter area, or leaving altogether is not a failure, it is a protective response, many people notice that once they are in a less stimulating environment, their body begins to settle on its own.

Afterwards, it’s important to be gentle with yourself. Feeling drained, embarrassed, or unsettled is common, these feelings don’t mean you handled it badly, they mean your nervous system worked hard.With understanding and support, these experiences often become less intense, less frequent, and less frightening, the aim is not to force them away, but to help the nervous system feel safer over time. If this resonates with you, it may be helpful to explore it with a therapist who works in a trauma-informed way and understands how the body responds to stress and threat. Support can help you make sense of these experiences and reconnect with a sense of safety and control.

You are not broken.
Your body is responding in a way it once learned to survive.
And with understanding and support, it can learn new ways to feel safe again.

Written by Maura Carey, Director of Cherry Blossom Therapy