Growing a Second Skin

A review of The Safe and Sound Protocol

some of the art I made while listening to the SSP music

Today I want to tell you about a therapy I did over the past few weeks, called the Safe and Sound Protocol. I had actually researched this 18 months ago, for my oldest child (I ultimately decided it was too expensive to do on our own, plus if I’m being honest it sounded a bit like pseudo-science to me). But recently my therapist asked me if I might want to try it. With a bunch of stressful things happening in my life plus a new book coming out, my therapist told me that many autistic people have found that the Safe and Sound Protocol (SSP) gives them a bit of protection against the world. They said it’s like a second skin. That sounded good to me. I desperately wish I had a different skin than the one I am in. I am too sensitive, too sad, too angry, too hyper-vigilant. I was up for trying anything, especially since I trusted my therapist so much.

The program was 5 hours of listening to the SSP music through an app on my phone. My therapist sent me a link to the app, and they had structured the listening into 10 days of 30 minutes each. I got over the ear headphones (noise canceling ones/earbuds are not allowed) and we did the first session together. I listened to 30 minutes of the music with headphones on, while my therapist watched me over Zoom (it felt very strange to be watched!). Before our first session, I had a bunch of information to read but the most important part was being able to recognize when my body was in fight/flight mode or freeze mode (here’s a refresher if you also need some help!). If the SSP triggered either of those states, then I was to pause and work on calming down my nervous system before continuing to listen. 

I think even a few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to identify if I was in fight/flight/freeze. But as I have done the work in therapy and started becoming more aware and connected to my feelings and my body instead of just my racing thoughts, I have gotten better at this. I don’t try to tamp down my triggered responses, but notice them without shame (or at least I am starting too). I think this is why it took a while before my therapist suggested doing this therapy—that’s how disconnected I was from my body. 

The music itself is calibrated to stimulate the acoustic vagus nerve inside your ears. Stimulating this ends up toning your entire vagus nerve system, which is so important for self-regulation! If you have a long history of being dysregulated (anxiety is a form of dysregulation, btw) or you have experienced trauma then your poor vagus nerve probably needs some help. I ended up doing the program for 13 days (I had to slow it down a bit), and spoiler alert: I found it life-changing.

I would highly recommend it to anyone who identifies as highly sensitive, neurodivergent, or anxious. However—my one caveat is that it isn’t for the faint of heart. I was shocked at how it launched me into processing trauma, so it’s almost like kick-starting some internal work that you might have been protecting yourself from. But in the end, it’s so much better to be able to access a more regulated state and gain extra clarity/mindfulness about who we are and why we are so anxious.  

I took a few notes through the process and wanted to share them here. It gets pretty personal, so instead of editing it down I am putting it behind the paywall for paid subscribers. But, If you are interested in this program/want to research finding a practitioner to do this program with, you can go here. 

The Safe and Sound program works by activating your nervous system and creating neural pathways that help you enter the regulated state of feeling safe¹. If you are someone who has experienced a lot of trauma ( say, being an undiagnosed autistic person who is constantly overwhelmed but tries to pretend they aren’t), your vagus nerve will need practice to enter into a regulated state! And that is exactly what happened to me. 

At the end of the program I talked to my therapist and told them that it didn’t feel like I got a second skin. I felt more exposed, in a way. I felt like I had a front row seat to how intense my thoughts are. I was finally starting to feel in my body the impacts of religious trauma in my childhood. I didn’t like it! Even though I did like the clarity/hope for the future part. I didn’t feel like I was in survival mode anymore, exactly. It felt like cocoon mode. I was going inward, but with purpose. Instead of just frantically chasing anxious thoughts, I was observing them. Noticing them. Having self-compassion. Understanding triggers. 

“Danielle,” my therapist said, that IS the second skin. Being able to access mindfulness—observing your thoughts without judgment--is the second skin.” “Ah,” I said. “Then yes, this program did work for me.²”

Anyways, here are the notes, so you can get a sense of what it was like to go through this in real time.

Day 1:

Wow. It felt weird to listen to music in front of my therapist. The music is a mix of oldies and weird covers of Taylor Swift songs. It wasn’t very loud and my therapist said I could do something with my hands while I listened, so I decided to art journal.

At the 13 minute mark I felt . . . clarity. It was as if a fog was clearing from my brain. I stopped art journaling and just stared off into space. It made me feel sad for myself that so much of my brain these days is foggy. Wow, you really have done a lot for someone in shut down mode, I thought. Then I just kinda enjoyed the music and went in and out of fog and clarity.

My therapist noted that halfway through the 30 minute session I seemed like I woke up a bit, and that I was just vibing to the music after that. I guess I am still out of touch with my body, because I definitely was in shutdown mode that morning, and didn’t realize it. 

About an hour afterwards I couldn’t stop shivering and then I was yawning a bunch³. Midday I was SO tired I had to lay down and all I wanted to do was have a sandwich (which I did!).