Overwhelm doesn’t always arrive as panic. Sometimes it shows up as mental static. Like there’s no space to think. Like every open tab in your brain is screaming for attention and none will close.

That slow burn of overwhelm was building in me for weeks—maybe longer—and I know it does for so many others, too. It doesn’t always crash in like a panic attack. Sometimes it just sneaks up and settles in, unnoticed, until breathing feels hard and everything feels impossible. 

The Technique

The 5-4-3-2-1 grounding technique was in the back of my mind—not because I planned to use it, but because our creative team at SYMMETRY Neuro-Pathway Training had asked me to help create a resource. Something simple. Something someone could use in the exact moment when the world feels like too much.

And that made me think about my time with Crisis Text Line—a dedicated community of volunteers who show up at all hours to let people know they are heard and they matter. I used to guide people through this same technique—naming what they could see, feel, hear. It helped them calm down, re-center, and feel safe in their bodies again. 

Then one night, I woke up in the dark, gripped by doomsday thinking. My thoughts were racing, catastrophizing, looping. I desperately needed sleep—but I couldn’t slow down. My nervous system felt hijacked.

After repeating every affirmation I could think of with no relief, a calm thought surfaced: maybe I should try grounding.

Not because I thought it would fix everything. But because I needed something I already knew. Something that wouldn’t wake anyone else. 

So, in the dark, I checked my breath. One of the simplest and most powerful things I learned while volunteering with Crisis Text Line was to ask, “How’s your breathing?” It sounds so basic—but stopping to notice whether you’re holding your breath can shift everything. I started naming what I could see. Feel. Hear. Smell. Taste. My mind kept trying to drag me back into the fear spiral—but I gently kept going.

And it worked. I went back to sleep.

🌿 More Than Just a Crisis Tool

I decided to try using the 5-4-3-2-1 technique when I wasn’t in a full tailspin—because I kept thinking about it. I’d been writing about it for others, creating content and resources that we hoped people would actually use when things felt impossible. And then, I had a moment where I thought: you’re so gung ho on telling other people it helps—but can you tell them how it feels? What if this worked for me too? What did I really have to lose?

I decided to practice it when I wasn’t overwhelmed. Just to see how it felt. To see if it would shift anything in my body. I started using it before meditation, just to settle. Not because I was spiraling, but because I wanted to see if it could help me feel more present. And it did.

Even though you can use the technique anywhere and at any time, I decided to have a dedicated space. When I started to feel a hint of anxiousness, dread, or overwhelm… I stopped and actually said aloud: YOU need to ground yourself. As this came up, I landed in one of two spots. Sometimes it’s my favorite chair—a thrifted Pottery Barn double wide with a velvet slipcover and down-filled pillows that feel like a hug. Other times, it’s my rickety old deck that overlooks the Savannah River and is one of my favorite spots on this earth. From there, I can see the river flowing, alligators, turtles, eagles, osprey, herons, the sun rising over the trees—and sometimes a storm rolling in so dramatically it feels surreal.

If the mosquitoes are biting or the heat index hits 115 °, I migrate indoors. I used to make myself stick to one predetermined spot—like I had to stay put in the place I’d picked if I wanted to become grounded. That was the rule I made up: go to your spot, stay there, and don’t move until you’re grounded. Eventually, I gave myself permission to break that rule—because, to be fair, I was the one who made it. Turns out, presence moves with you. You don’t have to be still to be present.

I sit, place my feet flat on the floor—because come on, grounding works better when you're actually grounded, right? I promised myself I wouldn’t get caught up in the details, but this one made me laugh a little—and felt oddly important.

Before I list anything, I want to say this: writing, drawing, doodling—just making marks on paper—has always been a part of how I process the world. I can’t be in a meeting of any kind without a pen and paper in my hand. So it’s no surprise that when I started using this technique, I naturally wrote things down or drew pictures that reminded me how I was feeling. Not always during the moment, but sometimes after. And not from one session—what I’m sharing here is a composite of things I’ve noticed over time. Tiny details that reminded me to stay in the moment—instead of projecting fear into the future or ruminating on the mistakes or problems from yesterday, or even an hour ago.

These aren’t exact counts from one session. They’re fragments of real moments I jotted down—sometimes during, sometimes after. Just little snapshots of presence that reminded me I was here. That I wasn’t lost in yesterday’s chaos or bracing for tomorrow. Just here. Just now.