Physical violence is not the only harm that leaves lasting marks. Coercive control and emotional abuse can create profound physical disruption, unsettling the nervous system, disturbing basic functions like sleep, and leaving behind tension, exhaustion, and long term health issues.
Even once you are out, many survivors find that their bodies respond as though the danger is still present. Your heart leaps at sudden noises. Your stomach tightens when the phone rings. Your body carries memories that the mind is trying to move past.
The stress of living in fear for years seeps into every part of the body, from digestion and hormones to immunity and rest. The body stays alert, scanning for threats that no longer exist yet still feel believable. It is as if the body remains stuck in its protective loop long after you have escaped.
As trauma specialist Bessel van der Kolk explains in his influential book The Body Keeps the Score, trauma physically alters both body and brain. The body stores traces of fear and threat, even when the conscious mind wants to move forward. This is why so many survivors notice that long after leaving, their bodies still tighten, flinch, and react as if harm is near.
Living with a Body That Cannot Stand Down
Many survivors describe life after leaving as a strange tension, where the mind understands safety but the body cannot accept it. One survivor said, “I can’t relax, even when I’m alone. It’s like I’m waiting for something bad to happen.” Another shared, “I can’t stand arguments or raised voices, I freeze up.”
The body that once braced for footsteps, shouting, or the sound of a key in the lock now reacts to the smallest cues. This is not a lack of strength or willpower. It is physiology responding to the physical impact of abuse. The nervous system has learned to stay on guard.
Many survivors talk about pain that seems to settle into the body. Shoulders locked. Jaw clenched. Stomach permanently tight. One woman said, “The trauma lives in my muscles. My shoulders and jaw are permanently tense.” Another explained, “I feel like my body is permanently tense. My shoulders ache all the time because I never truly relax.”
Years spent in fight or flight create lasting strain. This chronic activation can cause headaches, muscle pain, exhaustion, and a constant sense of being drained. When the body has lived in survival for so long, it does not know how to stand down.
We cannot simply switch off survival mode at the moment of leaving. The nervous system often stays half alert, quietly shaping how you breathe, move, and think.
When Rest Feels Unsafe
Sleep, which should offer relief, often becomes another reminder of what was endured. Many survivors speak of restless nights, disturbing dreams, and waking in panic. One said, “I can’t sleep properly. When I close my eyes, it all plays back like a film.” Another shared, “I still have nightmares. In them I’m trapped in the house, trying to get out but my legs won’t move.” A third added, “Sometimes I wake up shaking and it takes me a while to realise I’m safe.”
A body trained to stay alert struggles to let go. Fatigue becomes relentless. “It’s the exhaustion that’s hardest to explain. You wake up tired because your body has been in survival mode for so long.” There is a kind of tiredness that goes beyond sleep, a heaviness that settles deep in the bones.
When the nervous system has lived for years on high alert, even quiet moments can feel suspicious. Calm becomes something to relearn. One survivor said, “It’s the exhaustion that’s hardest to describe, not just physical, but soul deep.”
Illness, Pain, and the Hidden Consequences
The physical impact of abuse often shows itself in the body before the survivor fully recognises the emotional harm. Many describe years of unexplained illness, chronic pain, or extreme fatigue long before they realised the connection. “It’s not just emotional, it’s physical. I get sick more often now. My immune system is wrecked,” said one survivor. Another added, “I’ve developed health problems I never had before – migraines, fatigue, autoimmune issues.”
Living in fear places enormous pressure on the body. Many victims experience infections, hormonal changes, joint pain, migraines, and digestive problems. When the environment of fear is finally gone, these symptoms may slowly begin to ease. With fewer stress hormones flooding the system, the body can start to repair itself.
But recovery depends heavily on safety. For those still facing post-separation abuse, the body often remains locked in survival mode. Healing is stalled by ongoing threat, and symptoms may linger or worsen.
Weight changes are also common. “I lost so much weight when I left because I couldn’t eat from the stress,” one survivor said. Others describe the opposite, where the body holds on to weight for protection. These shifts show how deeply trauma shapes biology and how the body tries to survive emotional strain.
A Nervous System Struggling to Catch Up
The body sets its own pace for healing. Many survivors describe a nervous system that feels frozen in time, still reacting as if danger is immediate. “It feels like the abuse is tattooed on my nervous system,” one woman wrote.
Panic attacks, nausea, trembling, and racing hearts often become part of everyday life. One survivor shared, “Every message, every email makes my heart race.” Another said, “My hands shake when I have to open my inbox because I never know what’s waiting there.” These sudden physical responses are echoes of threat that take time to fade.
Hypervigilance becomes a habit. Even a car that resembles the abuser’s can trigger panic. “I get panic attacks when I see a car like his. It’s been five years and it still happens.” Another said, “I can’t even describe the fear that still lives in my body. It’s been years, but my nervous system hasn’t caught up.”
The stress response becomes automatic. You might double check the locks, avoid crowded places, or flinch at raised voices. This is the nervous system attempting to protect you as it learned to do.
The Weight of Carrying Trauma
The physical impact of abuse can leave survivors feeling far older than their years. “I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the last five,” one said. Constant waves of stress hormones like cortisol gradually wear the body down.
Many survivors also describe feeling disconnected from themselves, as though their body no longer belongs to them. “Sometimes I just feel empty. I go through the motions but I don’t feel like myself anymore.” Another said, “I feel hollow. Like I’m living in a body that doesn’t belong to me.”
When harm has been felt through the body, it can take a long time to feel safe in it again. Survivors often appear outwardly functional while carrying intense internal pain. “I’ve learned how to look functional while falling apart inside.”
When chaos was constant, even quiet moments can feel unsettling, as though they might break without warning.
Learning to Feel Safe Again
Yet even with everything the body carries, healing is possible. Bit by bit, survivors begin to listen to their bodies again, to rest without fear, to breathe without bracing, and to find peace in stillness. One survivor shared, “Leaving was terrifying, but I finally sleep in peace now.” Another said, “The pain is still there, but so is gratitude. I thank myself every day for getting out.”
Many describe a return of strength through the very body that once held their fear. “I have learned to take my power back. It’s been years, but the quiet confidence that comes from surviving is something no one can fake.” “I still struggle, but now I choose peace over chaos every single day.”
Healing appears in small moments. Sleeping through the night. Realising your hands no longer shake. Noticing that your heart stays steady when you hear a sound that once frightened you. “I finally feel safe in my own skin,” one woman said. “I remind myself constantly, I survived what was meant to destroy me.”
The body remembers the hurt, but it also remembers how to heal. Slowly, the nervous system learns that safety is real. Rest becomes something earned rather than feared. The same body that once carried terror begins to carry freedom.
For many survivors, that is the greatest reclaiming of all. “I no longer wake up in fear. I wake up in gratitude.”
The marks left by coercive control may run deep, yet the body’s ability to heal runs deeper still. The same body that absorbed the worst of the harm also holds the strength to recover. It remembers the fear, but in time, it learns to remember peace.
* Quotes are drawn from survivor experiences shared publicly on the Shadows of Control Facebook and Twitter pages and have been lightly edited for spelling, grammar, or clarity.
