The Psychology of Dread : What Your Body is Trying to Tell You.
When Dread Becomes the Background Noise of Life
There’s a kind of fear that doesn’t come and go — it just lingers. It hums quietly under the surface, a steady vibration of unease that colors your days and nights. For some, dread feels like a fog that won’t lift. For others, it’s a tightness in the chest that never quite relaxes.
When we talk about dread, we’re not just talking about worry. We’re talking about the body’s silent protest — its way of saying, “I don’t feel safe.”
Meet Camille
Camille is a composite of so many clients, colleagues, and even therapists I’ve met — high-functioning, perceptive, kind. She gets up early, makes coffee, gets her kids ready, answers emails before 8 a.m., and handles life the way she always has: by staying busy.
But lately, she wakes with a sense of heaviness she can’t shake. Her mind is foggy. Her stomach aches. Every sound feels loud. Nothing terrible is happening, but she feels like she’s bracing for something anyway.
That’s dread.
And for Camille — like for many of us — dread isn’t a character flaw or lack of gratitude. It’s a symptom of a body that’s been stuck in survival mode too long.
Dread Isn’t a Thought — It’s a Nervous System Pattern
According to Polyvagal Theory, developed by Stephen Porges (2011), our autonomic nervous system continuously scans for cues of safety or threat — a process called neuroception. When that system detects danger, real or imagined, it triggers the fight, flight, or freeze response.
In Camille’s case, her amygdala — the brain’s alarm system — was still doing its job. The problem was that it never got the message that the danger was over. Prolonged stress or trauma rewires how the brain and body communicate (Giourou et al., 2018; Lewis, Fard, & Neuner, 2021).
So even though Camille’s life was stable, her body didn’t feel safe enough to relax. Her dread wasn’t psychological weakness; it was biological protection.
The Hidden Message of Dread
When dread shows up, it’s easy to want to push it away. But dread isn’t there to ruin your day — it’s there to get your attention.
Deb Dana, a clinician who translated Polyvagal Theory for therapy, describes this as an invitation to listen rather than fix (Dana & Porges, 2018). Your body is saying, “I’ve been running too long. I need rest, rhythm, and connection.”
When you start to interpret dread as a signal rather than a symptom, it becomes something to partner with — not something to silence.
Step One: Ground the Body Before Challenging the Mind
Camille’s first instinct when dread hit was to overthink it — to reason her way out of it. But trauma doesn’t respond to logic. It responds to regulation.
Simple grounding techniques help the nervous system reorient to safety (Porges, 2011).
Try:
Orienting: Look around and name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear.
Breathe slowly: Inhale for four counts, exhale for six. Longer exhales signal the vagus nerve to relax.
Press your feet to the floor: Feel gravity. Remind yourself that you’re supported.
This is body-first healing. As van der Kolk (2014) notes, “The body keeps the score — but it can also write a new story.”
Step Two: Create Through the Dread
When Camille began painting again — something she hadn’t done in years — she noticed that her anxiety softened. The brushstrokes gave form to feelings she couldn’t name.
Creativity is more than expression; it’s a way of regulating the nervous system. Research shows that creative activity lowers cortisol and reduces negative mood (Kaimal, Ray, & Muniz, 2016). It reengages the prefrontal cortex and supports emotional integration.
It doesn’t have to be art. It can be cooking, writing, gardening — anything that transforms what’s inside you into something outside of you.
Step Three: Move Gently, Move Often
When dread feels heavy, movement feels impossible. But motion is medicine.
Gentle, rhythmic movement — like walking or stretching — improves heart rate variability (HRV), which is linked to emotional regulation and resilience (Lehrer & Gevirtz, 2014). Camille started walking after dinner with her kids. They didn’t talk about stress or goals; they just walked and breathed together.
That rhythm — steps, air, laughter — told her nervous system, “You’re alive. You’re safe enough to move.”
Step Four: Reconnect — Healing Through Co-Regulation
One evening, Camille called her sister just to talk — not to vent or fix anything, but to hear a familiar voice. Her chest loosened as they laughed. That’s co-regulation in action.
Porges’ Polyvagal Theory (2011) explains that the ventral vagal system, the branch of the vagus nerve linked to social engagement, activates when we experience safety through connection. Human presence literally calms the body.
In other words: healing happens in relationship. We’re wired for it.
When Dread Feels Overwhelming
If dread becomes constant — if every day feels like dragging a weight through water — it might be time to get professional help.
Therapeutic approaches like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) have demonstrated effectiveness in treating emotional dysregulation and trauma-related anxiety (Hu et al., 2025; Harris et al., 2024).
At Logos Insights, we integrate these frameworks with trauma-informed coaching to help individuals across Iowa City, Cedar Rapids, and Williamsburg rediscover safety in their bodies and meaning in their lives.
Reflection Prompts
What does dread feel like in your body — not in your mind, but physically?
What creative outlet could help you release what words can’t?
Who feels like “safety” to you? What would it look like to reach out to them?
What would happen if you treated dread as an invitation instead of an interruption?
The Takeaway
Dread is not a personal failure — it’s an intelligent response from a body that’s learned to survive.
It’s your nervous system saying, “Please slow down. Please reconnect. Please help me feel safe again.”
You don’t have to overcome it. You only have to listen.
Because healing isn’t about perfection — it’s about presence.
References
Dana, D., & Porges, S. W. (2018). The Polyvagal Theory in therapy: Engaging the rhythm of regulation. W. W. Norton.
Giourou, E., Skokou, M., Andrew, G., Alexopoulou, K., Gourzis, P., & Jelastopulu, E. (2018). Complex posttraumatic stress disorder: The need to consolidate a distinct clinical syndrome or to reevaluate features of psychiatric disorders following interpersonal trauma? Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, 206(4), 277–286. https://doi.org/10.1097/NMD.0000000000000790
Harris, J., et al. (2024). A systematic review of mediators of complex trauma. Frontiers in Psychiatry, 15, 1331256. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyt.2024.1331256
Hu, J. H., et al. (2025). Efficacy of psychological interventions for complex post-traumatic stress disorder. Journal of Affective Disorders, 354, 107–118. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2025.01.007
Kaimal, G., Ray, K., & Muniz, J. (2016). Reduction of cortisol levels and participants’ responses following art making. Art Therapy, 33(2), 74–80. https://doi.org/10.1080/07421656.2016.1166832
Lehrer, P. M., & Gevirtz, R. (2014). Heart rate variability biofeedback: How and why does it work? Frontiers in Psychology, 5, 756. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2014.00756
Lewis, S. J., Fard, R. M., & Neuner, F. (2021). Unravelling the contribution of complex trauma to psychopathology. European Journal of Psychotraumatology, 12(1), 1929022. https://doi.org/10.1080/20008198.2021.1929022
Porges, S. W. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W. W. Norton.
van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.