Notes for My Nervous System

I AWAKE

Welcome, love. This isn’t a podcast to help you get your shit together. It’s a space to remind you: you were never broken to begin with. What you’re listening to now is Notes for My Nervous System. short transmissions for when you forget how to feel, or when feeling too much makes you want to disappear. I’m not here to motivate you. I’m here to slow you down. These episodes are not meant for background noise. They’re for coming back to your body. You might hear poetry. You might hear silence. You might hear something your cells remember. All I ask is that you meet yourself as you are. Not how you think you should be. You don’t need to change to be welcome here. You just need to breathe. So take a moment. Let the sound land. Let your body soften. Let this be the beginning of a new kind of listening. Welcome home. sensualinstitute.substack.com

Episodes

  1. If something painful happens and you can’t fall apart...

    FEB 17

    If something painful happens and you can’t fall apart...

    There’s a kind of pain that doesn’t explode. It doesn’t scream. It doesn’t ruin your life. It just… stays. It shows up quietly. When you’re alone at night. When someone touches you and you feel slightly elsewhere. When something good happens, and it lands flatter than it should. This isn’t dramatic trauma. It’s unfinished physiology. When something overwhelming happens and you can’t fight, can’t leave, can’t fully feel it, your nervous system adapts. Adaptation is brilliant. But adaptation is not completion. If your body mobilizes, heart racing, muscles tight, ready to act, and that action gets blocked, the energy doesn’t disappear. It gets held. If something painful happens and you can’t fall apart because you have to stay functional, the shutdown doesn’t complete either. What can’t move through, stays in the background. Not loud. Just a hum. That hum might feel like: A tight throat when you try to be vulnerable. A heaviness in your chest when you slow down. A subtle distance from pleasure. A quiet sense that something is missing. You might call it personality. But often it’s protection. Protection that never got released becomes identity. You think, “This is just how I am.” But often it’s, “This is how I learned to stay safe.” Here’s something important: The ache often resurfaces when life gets safer, not more dangerous. You slow down, and instead of relief, you feel heaviness. You enter a stable relationship, and grief rises. You achieve something, and feel emptiness instead of joy. Nothing is wrong. Your body is trying to complete something old. Completion needs two things at the same time: activation and safety. You have to feel the emotion, and feel safe enough not to be overwhelmed by it. Insight alone isn’t enough. Understanding why it hurt doesn’t finish the cycle. The body needs a new experience. It needs to feel and survive differently. This work is subtle. It looks like staying with sadness ten seconds longer than you usually would. Letting anger move through your chest without suppressing it or acting it out. Allowing someone to see your vulnerability without immediately stabilizing them. Small increments. Repeated. That’s how baseline shifts. And slowly, the ache softens. Not into euphoria. Into capacity. You can feel more without bracing. Connect without pre-withdrawing. Experience pleasure without waiting for it to disappear. The ache stayed because you survived. Your system did exactly what it was designed to do. Protect you. Now you don’t need to erase it. You don’t need to shame it. You just need to meet it. Take a breath. Notice if there’s a subtle tone in your body right now. Not dramatic. Just a background hum. That’s not your enemy. That’s where the next movement begins. If this gave you relief, there’s more of that to be had darling. Visit my site I Awake for more! If you live in Stockholm, and you are a woman, I want you to feel very invited to join me on The Motherhole gatherings held at the sensual institute. Visit The Motherhole And The Sensual institute This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sensualinstitute.substack.com

    20 min
  2. There’s a kind of tired that doesn’t come from doing too much.

    JAN 26

    There’s a kind of tired that doesn’t come from doing too much.

    It comes from holding yourself together. From staying reasonable. From adapting. From living a life that mostly works, but never quite lets you land. If that sentence makes something in you tighten, soften, or go quiet, this audio is for you. I recorded today’s podcast for the moment that rarely gets named, because it doesn’t look dramatic enough to count. You’re not burned out. You’re not falling apart. You’re just done pushing yourself through your own life. In this episode, I don’t offer advice. I don’t tell you what to fix or change. I don’t rush you toward clarity. I speak to the part of you that’s been functioning for a long time, quietly carrying rules and expectations you never consciously chose, and starting to sense that they no longer fit. If you’ve been feeling slightly out of sync with your own life… If your body has been whispering before your mind has words… If something in you knows this isn’t how you want to keep living, but you don’t yet know what comes next… Press play. Let it meet you where you actually are. And then, if something in you wants to go further come HERE and you’ll find the free guided audio body practice I mention in this podcast episode No pressure. No performance. Just a place to listen. With love, Camilla This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sensualinstitute.substack.com

    18 min
  3. JAN 12

    Come closer. This story is for adults...

    Today I want to share something different. A story. A story for adults. In many traditions around the world, wisdom wasn’t passed down through concepts or instructions. It was passed through stories. People sat close to each other. By firelight. Bodies warm. Listening together. Stories were how we learned what couldn’t be taught directly. How we remembered things the nervous system understands long before the mind does. This is one of those stories. It’s a creation myth I wrote, drawing on the ancient names Eros and Ananke. They appear in old mythologies, but this is my telling. Not a reconstruction of the past, but a story shaped for the modern body. Because we need new stories that can speak to the way we actually live now. To our pace. Our hunger. Our exhaustion. Our longing to feel whole without burning out or going numb. I wrote this story because myth makes us larger. It connects our everyday drives, our bodies, our relationships, to something older, deeper, and more spacious than personal psychology alone. Not to escape reality, but to inhabit it more fully. This story doesn’t try to teach you anything. It doesn’t tell you what to do. It simply remembers. I invite you to listen the way people used to listen. Not to understand. But to let your body recognize something it already knows. You don’t need to concentrate. You don’t need to analyze. Just listen. Some stories aren’t meant to be consumed. They’re meant to sit beside you for a while. This is one of those. If something in you stirred while listening, if you felt the pull between wanting and holding, beginning and staying, then you’ve already touched what I call the Sensual Hero’s Journey. It’s the larger map this story belongs to. A way of understanding how we leave ourselves, and how we return, through the body, the nervous system, and lived experience. You can find it HERE, if you want to enter your myth With love, Camilla This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sensualinstitute.substack.com

    20 min
  4. 12/11/2025

    When your body learns to live love-starved

    …and still feel something in you shrinking from the inside. A quiet emptiness. A slow dimming. A subtle tightening around the places where warmth should land. People assume love-starved means lacking romance, or intimacy, or closeness. But your body defines love differently. To your nervous system, love is presence. Consistency. Attunement. A rhythm you can trust. And when that rhythm is missing, or unreliable, or only available in small unpredictable doses, the body recalibrates. It stops reaching. It stops asking. It stops expecting to be met. Not because you don’t want love. But because somewhere inside, you learned that wanting meant waiting, and waiting meant pain. So your system found a workaround. It made numbness efficient. It made low-grade longing livable. It taught you how to function on emotional crumbs, calling it independence. But here is something most people never tell you: Being love-starved doesn’t make you unworthy. It makes you adaptive. Your body protected you with withdrawal. Your heart protected you with silence. Your chemistry protected you with minimal production of hope. You survived a drought by lowering your desire for water. And yet the truth quietly remains: you were built for deeper nourishment. Not intensity. Not chaos. Not grand gestures. Just steady warmth. Just consistent presence. Just enough softness that your body remembers what it feels like to be received instead of tolerated. If you feel the tug of this that faint ache that says “I want more, but I don’t know how to want it safely” you’re not regressing. You’re thawing. You’re coming back to the part of you that still believes in being held without having to earn it. Slowly. Gently. At the pace your body trusts. And if you want a small doorway into that return, a way to begin meeting the places inside you that stopped expecting nourishment… I created something for you. A 7 day journal called Love starved. And i’m giving you first chapter, its 4 prompts, and an audio guided body practice that help the words land in your nervous system . Free, so you can feel what you’re stepping into before you say yes to anything else. The link is below: Love starved 7 day journal With tenderness, Camilla This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sensualinstitute.substack.com

    9 min

About

Welcome, love. This isn’t a podcast to help you get your shit together. It’s a space to remind you: you were never broken to begin with. What you’re listening to now is Notes for My Nervous System. short transmissions for when you forget how to feel, or when feeling too much makes you want to disappear. I’m not here to motivate you. I’m here to slow you down. These episodes are not meant for background noise. They’re for coming back to your body. You might hear poetry. You might hear silence. You might hear something your cells remember. All I ask is that you meet yourself as you are. Not how you think you should be. You don’t need to change to be welcome here. You just need to breathe. So take a moment. Let the sound land. Let your body soften. Let this be the beginning of a new kind of listening. Welcome home. sensualinstitute.substack.com