Quiet Confessions, Episode 14: Taking Up Space

In this week’s Quiet Confessions, Chelsea shares the raw reality of navigating hospital visits that reopen old wounds. From the dysregulation of lab work and MRIs, to the panic of walking familiar halls, to the choice to slow down and decompress instead of bulldozing through — this episode is a reminder that scars live in our bodies long after the moment has passed.

With honesty, vulnerability, and a little humor (yes, ice cream counts as medicine), Chelsea reflects on how planning for recovery time, acknowledging limits, and taking up space are not weaknesses but survival strategies.

🔑 Key Takeaways

• Hospital visits can reopen old wounds. 
  • Even “routine” lab work or scans can trigger memories of past hospitalizations and trauma.
• The body remembers. 
  • Trauma isn’t only emotional — it’s stored in the body and resurfaces under certain conditions.
• Acknowledging limits matters.
  • Choosing to pause, decompress, and not rush back into responsibilities is an act of care.
• Planning for recovery is a survival tool. 
  • Building in time and space after triggering events can prevent complete burnout.
• Taking up space isn’t selfish. 
  • It’s survival — a vital reminder for anyone feeling guilty about needing time and care.
• Joyful coping counts. 
  • Whether it’s journaling, rest, or salted caramel ice cream, small comforts can make hard days easier. 

 🎧 Soundbites 

• “Walking through those hospital doors, my body remembers all the things I want to forget.”
  
  
• “Trauma leaves scars, and they flare up — that’s not weakness, that’s being human.”
  
  
• “Taking up space is not selfish, it’s survival.”
  
  
• “Usually I bulldoze through until I break. This time, I chose to pause.”
  
  
• “Ice cream always helps. It’s science.”

Transcript

Chelsea Myers (00:47)
Hey, happy Thursday or as I like to call it, Friday Eve, which means absolutely nothing as a stay at home mom, but whatever, it's the little things, right? ⁓ I wanna talk about my Friday yesterday as of this recording. It was a day that reminded me how much

old wounds and hard experiences can come rushing back in the right circumstances. Even that feels like the wrong thing to say, the right circumstances, but when everything aligns, you can just get hit out of nowhere. yesterday I spent pretty much my entire day at the hospital.

getting lab work done and I had a scheduled MRI. And those things are technically routine for me, ⁓ but they're not neutral at all. They're incredibly triggering. They bring back the weight of past hospital stays, being admitted, the fear of something being really, really wrong.

being separated from my family, that weird familiarity of being constantly poked and prodded that I've developed. No fear of needles here. ⁓ And the nagging reminder that my body isn't working the way that I wish it would.

From the days leading up to my appointments to the minute I parked my car, my nervous system was bracing for impact and I was not coping well. You know what? I'm going to give myself some grace. I think I did okay, but I definitely communicated that my needs were a little higher than normal. But walking through those hospital doors,

and smelling that hospital smell. Ugh. It makes me feel small and like, I don't know, my body just remembers all the things that I want to forget. I'll actually actively avoid looking up while I'm making my way through the halls because there's

just certain areas or signs or even decorative plants that can send me straight into a flashback.

While I was waiting to get my lab work done, I definitely started to feel panic bubbling. I got that tight feeling in my chest and the anxious nausea and my brain got foggy and all I wanted to do was just leave. And ironically, I did end up leaving ⁓ because I needed to check in for my MRI on the opposite end of the hospital.

which I mean, an MRI for me is basically an exercise and staying calm while every single alarm bell in my body is going off. But that meant that I would have to go back and check in again and do the whole process all over again because they couldn't get to me in time, even though I got there an hour early. The MRI was its own monster.

If you've never experienced an MRI before, you are super lucky and I hope that you never have to. Essentially, you're squeezed into a tube while strapped down. You have earplugs and headphones on while really, really loud, weird noises are just encompassing you.

Just what you need when you're already anxious, claustrophobic, and counting down the seconds for this whole thing to be over.

So because this was a liver scan, we had to do a series of breath holding procedures, I guess. I don't know what else to call it. The whole thing lasted about 45 minutes. And I'm not exaggerating when I tell you I was probably holding my breath anywhere from five to 25 seconds, at least 20 times. You'll hear.

in your headphones, this next scan is a breath holding scan. And then they'll say, breathe in, breathe out, hold your breath, and then silence, other than all of the crazy wacky sounds all around you. And you're just like, my God, can I breathe now? Can I breathe now? Can I breathe now? While I don't enjoy them, I actually prefer my brain scans.

because I can just close my eyes, they play music in the headphones, and I can pretend I'm somewhere else. My next brain scan is in November, so yay! Something to look forward to.

But despite everything in me telling me to just go home after that, I did go back to get my blood work done. I got through it, but I left feeling so dysregulated. I couldn't think straight. I was talking about a million miles a minute. I was just a mess. Luckily, my husband works in the building right next door, so.

I was able to get myself to a safe space to try to calm down and regulate my nervous system. And honestly, that's the part I'm proud of. I planned for this. Granted, it was last minute planning due to schedule changes, but I'm taking the win. I knew I'd be fried. So I gave myself time. I didn't rush back into.

mom life. I sat down, I ate lunch, I let myself decompress instead of trying to bulldoze through it. And that's not something I always do. Usually I push and push and push through until I break, but yesterday I chose to acknowledge my limits. And while it didn't magically fix everything, it did give me a little bit of breathing room.

It may have also helped that I got myself a salted caramel cup ice cream cone from my favorite scoop shop on my way home. Ice cream always helps. It's science. Look it up. I don't know. Maybe that's the reminder I need sometimes. Hard things don't just live in our bodies in the moment. They leave scars and they flare up.

And it's not weakness when they do flare up. It's part of being human.

So if you've been beating yourself up for needing space, needing grace, things that are stressful, that are keeping you not at your best self, here is my message to me and you.

Taking up space is not selfish, it's survival. Now remind me of that the next time I'm freaking out. Thanks for sitting with me. Thanks for listening as I ramble through my thoughts. I'll be back next week, but until then, I hope you can find ways to give yourself permission to pause.

especially after hard things, hard moments. And get some ice cream, seriously. It helps, I promise.