Emotions and Emotional Dysregulation: Relearning Your Nervous System’s Ancient Language.

Let me ask you two things that sounds so simple, but are often surprisingly revealing, and surprisingly hard!

1. Firstly, what is an emotion?

   
   

2. Secondly, can you identify and name your emotions?

If you hesitated, you’re not alone. I used to be exactly the same and now as a clinical psychologist who specialises in teaching clients about emotions and emotional regulation, I find that about 99 percent (yes that high) of the people I work with struggle to answer both questions.  Most of us do. Even when we try, we often end up describing what we think or a physical sensation rather than the emotions themselves. Even when we can name an emotion its usually because it’s a BIG one we are experiencing and struggling with and knowing what to do with it is another challenge entirely!

If that sounds familiar, you’re in very good company. Most of us learnt the unofficial rules: jump up don’t cry, calm down, carry on, be “professional”, be “resilient”, be “positive”. Somewhere along the way emotions got demonised, treated like leaks to be sealed, glitches to be hacked, or signs of weakness to be hidden. We praise people for being “unflappable” and side-eye the colleague who tears up in a meeting. Social media swings between “good vibes only” and “it’s ok not to be ok”, while real humans sit at home thinking, why can’t I just get a grip?

Much of psychological therapy, has traditionally focused on thoughts and behaviours. These are hugely important, but in all my years of study and practice, I’ve found that emotions are at the root of so much human distress and are often overlooked even by therapists.  If clients come to me and feel that previous therapy hasn’t worked for them, it’s often because their emotions haven’t been addressed. In my opinion it is why therapies such as dialectical behaviour therapy (DBT) and eye-movement desensitisation therapy (EMDR) are so effective, because they directly target emotions. 

The truth is everyone has emotions, and at some point, will be overwhelmed by them, such as in times of grief.  In this blog, we’re going to briefly explore what emotions are, what emotional dysregulation really is, what’s happening in your body when you feel overwhelmed, and why so many of us feel disconnected from our emotional world. This is just a whistle stop tour of a really complex but amazing topic that I love teaching about, because your emotions aren’t broken, they are trying to talk to you. You just may not have been taught how to understand their language.

Emotions: The nervous system’s ancient language

The secret to emotions lies in human evolution.  In session my clients often hear the words, "let’s go back to when we lived in caves", when human beings weren’t as clever as we are now, when they didn’t have language.  Human beings needed a form of communication to understand what was happening in their environment and within their tribes.  Long before we could talk, long before we could think and philosophise in the way that we do now, long before we had spreadsheets and meeting agendas, our ancestors needed a way to notice a threat, mobilise their energy, signal others, protect their resources, and choose what to do now. Emotions did that job. They still do but we have lost touch with them.

Think of emotions as whole body signals that:

• (a) evaluate what’s happening and decide what emotion fits your needs, as certain things trigger certain emotions appropriate to the situation, for example if a tiger appears we would experience fear.

• (b) changes your physiology, as each emotion triggers a specific neurotransmitter and hormone cascade.  You need chemicals to fire you up for some emotions, and different ones to calm you down for other emotions.

• (c) narrows or widens your attention.   

• (d) primes a specific urge to act, because each emotion makes you want to act in a very specific way.  That’s kind of the whole purpose of emotions that they tell us how to behave because if there is a tiger I need to run or stand very still!

• (e) broadcasts a signal through face, voice, and posture, because we also need other humans to know what is going on. Watch someone’s face as they get angry, you can tell by looking at them even if they say they are ok.

If you strip away the buzzwords, an emotion is your nervous system’s ancient messaging service, fast, bodily, and remarkably efficient.

From an evolutionary point of view, emotions solved recurring survival problems: avoid danger, approach resources, protect status, preserve bonds. They act like scripts that organise your body for action in milliseconds.  Your heart rate shifts, breathing alters, muscles prepare, often before your thinking brain has weighed in. That’s why you can feel a surge of fear in your chest before you’ve fully “figured out” what’s wrong.

What Emotions Are There? and What Are They Trying To Tell Us?

If you think of emotions as messages. Each arrives for a reason, gives us a gut feeling, and makes us want to act in a specific way. None are good or bad in themselves. They are bits of biological intelligence about what matters, what is at risk, and what to do next. The work is learning to read the message properly, check whether the message fits the facts, and then choose a response that serves your values. Sometimes our messaging can misfire and we can get an emotion that doesn't fit the facts of what is actually happening, and then they can be unhelpful.

People often think there are tens or even hundreds of emotions, and if there were then that would be far too confusing for us to ever understand what was going on.  There are just ten primary emotions (and we know that now with brain scanning and research) but if you have ever seen an ‘emotion wheel’ you would be forgiven for thinking they are endless. The very reason for this is the thing that emotions replaced – language.

If we think about the emotion of anger.  People might describe themselves as irritated, or frustrated, or outraged, or furious.  But all of those things are simply different levels of the emotion of anger. 

So let’s look at the primary emotions and what they are appropriately initiated for, and when they might cause us problems.

1. Anger says a line has been crossed. It points to boundaries, rights or values that feel violated and it brings fuel for change. When anger fits the facts it helps you speak up, set limits, and defend what matters. When it misfires at small frustrations or old triggers, it narrows your view and pushes you to attack problems that do not exist.

2. Disgust says move away from contamination or harm. It keeps you safe from spoiled food, infection and genuinely toxic situations. If we turn disgust on to people, parts of yourself or ordinary messiness, it can harden into stigma and avoidance that limits your life.

3. Envy says you have noticed something you value. It marks a gap between where you are and where you want to be and can energise growth, practice and skill-building. Left unchecked, it turns into bitterness and self-attack. Used well, it helps you name what you admire and turn that into a do-able plan.

4. Fear and anxiety say there may be danger. Fear tunes the body for escape, freezing or hiding so you can live to fight another day. When the danger is real, anxiety helps you act quickly and protect yourself. When the danger is imagined, vague or unlikely, the same response steals attention and shrinks your world.

5. Happiness and joy say approach, connect, create, and repeat. These states broaden attention, fuel learning and help you share good things with others. Unbalanced, they can tip into recklessness or overindulgence. Happiness can actually underpin addictions.

6. Jealousy says something you care about may be at risk. It is an attachment alarm that can prompt caring actions, clearer communication and renewal of trust. If it is driven by insecurity rather than evidence, it pulls you toward control, checking and accusation.

7. Love and affection say bond and invest. They support nurturing, commitment and the slow weaving of trust. Without boundaries they can eclipse self-respect, lead to over giving, or keep you in harmful situations. Healthy warmth holds limits and care together.

8. Sadness says something mattered and has been lost. It slows the system so you can feel, make sense, and receive comfort. When sadness is prolonged, it can pull you into isolation and immobility. Gentle re-engagement helps you reconnect with life at a manageable pace.

9. Shame says you have fallen short of a social rule or your own values and may need to repair or be rejected by others. In a targeted way it supports accountability and growth. As an internal belief that you are bad, it paralyses, silences and cuts off help.

10. Guilt says you have caused harm. It focuses attention on consequences and invites amends. Accurate guilt is a compass for repair. Inaccurate or excessive guilt becomes self-punishment and keeps you stuck.

Across these ten emotions, the pattern is the same. Each carries useful data about what might be going on, and an action tendency to get you to behave in a certain way.

Three questions can shift your relationship with them. What is the emotion trying to do for me here. Do the facts support that action. What small step would move me closer to my values.

Why We’ve Lost Touch With Our Emotions

Many of us are removed from our own feelings, and it rarely happens by accident. We’ve listened to cultural messages that prize logic, productivity and stoicism; being “unbothered” is treated like a virtue, while emotion is framed as messy or weak.

For many people early experiences are layered with the same message: being told “You’re too sensitive” or “Stop overreacting” which teaches the body that feelings are unsafe or embarrassing, so it learns to minimise, mistrust or hide them.

Then there’s survival mode. When life is chronically stressful or traumatic, the nervous system quite sensibly prioritises scanning for threat and getting through the day; fine-grained emotional awareness is pushed to the background so you can cope.

Add our distraction-saturated world, phones within reach, tabs multiplying, to-do lists breeding, and there’s barely a quiet minute left to notice what’s happening inside before the next ping arrives.

Over time, our emotional fluency wears thin. The inner signals that once felt clear start to fade. You reach for the same few words when asked what you feel, “fine”, “stressed”, “tired”, whilst you swing between pushing through and shutting down. It can feel like losing a language you once spoke with ease. Leave it unused and it gathers rust and we can become emotionally dysregulated.

What Is Emotional Dysregulation?

When psychologists talk about emotional dysregulation, we don’t mean “being too sensitive.” Emotions are normal, healthy, and vital. What we mean from a clinical perspective is a pattern of difficulty managing the way emotions rise, peak, and settle.

In dysregulation, feelings tend to come on very quickly, feel unusually strong, and linger for far longer than they would in most people. It’s like your nervous system doesn’t have a reliable dimmer switch, everything is either off, or blindingly bright.

Emotional dysregulation has three key ingredients:

1. Heightened emotional sensitivity – the emotional system is easily triggered, so even small events can set off a strong reaction.

2. Intense emotional experience – once triggered, emotions are felt powerfully in the body and mind, often overwhelming a person’s capacity to think clearly.

3. Slow return to baseline – the nervous system takes a long time to settle, meaning distress can last for hours or even days.

This isn’t a diagnosis in itself, but rather a 'transdiagnostic' feature, meaning it shows up across many different mental health conditions. For example, emotional dysregulation is central in borderline personality disorder, increasingly recognised as a core challenge in ADHD, and a major factor in trauma-related difficulties like PTSD and Complex PTSD. It also appears in mood disorders, anxiety disorders, and neurodevelopmental conditions such as autism.

Why Does Emotional Dysregulation Happen?

There are several reasons why someone might struggle with emotional regulation:

1. Early Life Experiences

Our ability to regulate emotion begins in childhood, through a process called co-regulation. When caregivers help children name, soothe, and make sense of their emotions, “You’re sad because your toy broke. It’s okay to cry”, the child’s brain learns how to calm itself over time.

But when caregivers are emotionally distant, unpredictable, or overwhelmed themselves, children may grow up without those vital skills. They may learn to shut down, lash out, or internalise instead.

2. Trauma and Chronic Stress

Experiencing trauma, whether a single event or ongoing stress, disrupts the nervous system’s ability to regulate. The brain becomes hypervigilant, always scanning for threat, and emotional responses become more reactive and less flexible.

This means people might go from calm to panicked, numb to flooded, without much in between.

3. Lack of Emotional Education

Let’s be honest, we don’t teach emotional skills in school. I wish they did!!! We’re often told to “calm down,” “stop crying,” or “get over it,” but rarely taught how. As adults, we’re left to navigate complex emotions with very few tools.

4. Neurobiological Sensitivity

Some people are biologically more emotionally sensitive. Their emotional reactivity is higher, their recovery time is slower, and their baseline stress level is elevated. This isn’t a weakness, it’s a trait. But without the right tools and a combination of the other reasons, it can lead to distress.

Researchers like Marsha Linehan, who developed Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT), describe emotional dysregulation as the meeting point between a biological vulnerability and an invalidating environment or traumatic experience. In other words, some people are born with a nervous system that is naturally more reactive and slower to calm down. If they then grow up in an environment where their feelings are ignored, minimised, or punished, or traumas leave them feeling unsafe they never get the chance to learn how to regulate those big waves of emotion, or to turn the threats off. The result is a system that easily tips into overwhelm.

Clinically, emotional dysregulation doesn’t just show up as “feeling things strongly.” It affects how people live day to day. It might look like:

• Going from calm to furious in seconds and struggling to explain why.

• Crying for reasons that feel unclear and finding it hard to stop.

• Holding on to hurt for days after an argument, long after the other person has moved on.

• Shutting down or going numb because the feelings are simply too much.

• Experiencing racing thoughts, a pounding heart, or stomach knots that don’t switch off.

So, when we use the term “emotional dysregulation” in psychology, we’re describing the mismatch between what’s happening in the emotional brain and the ability to bring it back into balance. It’s not weakness, laziness, or a personality flaw. It’s a nervous system that’s been trained, often through no fault of your own, to fire quickly, loudly, and for longer than feels manageable.

The good news, and this is where therapy comes in, is that regulation is a skill. Just like language, movement, or memory, it can be practised and strengthened. Which means that even if emotional dysregulation has been part of your life for years, it isn’t set in stone. With the right tools and understanding, your emotional system can learn to understand the language your emotions are speaking.

What is emotion regulation?

Emotion regulation is the ability to notice, name, and modulate emotions, their intensity, duration, and expression, so you can act in line with your goals and values. It’s not repression (“push it down”), and it’s not indulgence (“let it drive”). It’s skilfully steering the wave: sensing it early, surfing it safely, and letting it pass.

A useful concept is your window of tolerance, the arousal zone where you can think, feel, and choose. Regulation expands and stabilises that window.

Window of Tolerance

Think of your nervous system like a house with good insulation. When the weather outside swings from scorching to icy, the inside stays liveable. The window of tolerance is that liveable zone for your emotions and arousal. Inside it, you can feel things fully and still think clearly, stay present, and choose how to respond. Outside it, your system either rockets up (hyperarousal: panic, rage, frantic thinking) or drops down (hypoarousal: numb, foggy, shut down). We all move in and out of this window every day. The work isn’t to “never leave it” but to notice where you are, re-enter when you slip out, and gradually widen the window over time.

Most people recognise being outside their window long before they have language for it. You’re halfway through an email and your chest is tight, your jaw is set, and you can’t stop rereading the same sentence. Or you’re in a conversation and suddenly feel far away, like the sound is underwater. Inside the window your prefrontal cortex, the part that plans, weighs pros and cons, and holds your values, can stay online and work with your limbic system. Outside it, the survival brain takes the wheel. That’s not a flaw; it’s an elegant safety feature. The trouble comes when that safety feature activates too often, too intensely, or sticks.

From a body perspective, the “window” is largely about the autonomic nervous system. When you’re within it, your system has enough sympathetic energy to be alert and engaged, and enough parasympathetic settling to stay grounded. You can feel the swell of anger without snapping, the tug of sadness without spiralling. You can delay an urge, ask for what you need, or step away and return. You’re not calm all the time; you’re flexible.

When you tip above the top edge, the body primes to fight or flee. Heart rate climbs, breathing gets shallow or fast, thoughts speed up and narrow. People describe it as “too much”: too loud, too bright, too many demands, too many tabs open in both the browser and the brain. Below the bottom edge, the system protects by powering down. Time feels slow or disjointed. Words slip away. You stare, scroll, or agree to things you don’t want because it seems easier than finding your voice. Neither state is “bad”, they’re protective. But they’re not great places to make decisions, have difficult conversations, or learn new skills.

Why do some people have a narrower window than others? History and context. Early experiences, trauma, chronic stress, grief, sleep deprivation, pain, hormone shifts, and neurodivergence (ADHD, autism) can all sensitise the alarm system. If your life has required constant vigilance, your body has learned that fast, big reactions are safer. If shutdown has kept you from harm, your system will reach for it quickly. None of this is a personal failing. It’s conditioning. And conditioning can change.

Therapy helps, especially approaches that weave body and mind: DBT skills, EMDR, paced breathing, grounding, gentle exposure to previously overwhelming cues, and learning to name emotions accurately so the right circuits light up. Over months, the edges of the window become less reactive; you can feel more without flipping into survival modes.

Remember: the goal isn’t to control your feelings; it’s to build a body and mind that can safely hold them.

Final Thoughts: Emotions Are Messengers, Not Enemies

Emotions are not faults to be fixed. They are couriers from your nervous system carrying information about what matters, what is at risk, and what might help next. When we treat them like enemies, we either silence them or obey them blindly. Both routes make life smaller. When we meet them as messengers, we gain choice.

Listening does not mean letting emotions drive the car. It means inviting them into the passenger seat long enough to understand why they showed up. The body is your translator. Tight jaw, hot chest, hollow stomach, prickly skin, foggy head. These are part of the message. When you can feel the pattern without being swept away by it, you begin to read the language.

By tuning back in to the wisdom of your emotions, learning their language, and offering yourself the support you may never have received, you can move from chaos to clarity. From reactivity to regulation. From surviving to living fully. You will still have strong feelings. Being regulated does not mean being calm all the time. It means you can feel deeply without losing yourself, return to baseline more quickly when you are knocked off balance, and choose actions that match your values rather than your oldest habits. Over time this builds a quiet, trustworthy confidence. You learn that you can handle your inner weather. Storms pass. Signals make sense. You do not have to fight yourself. You don’t have to fear your feelings. They’re not here to hurt you. They’re here to help you.  It just doesn’t always feel like it.

If you take one thing from this piece, let it be this. Your emotions are on your side. Treat them with curiosity rather than judgement. Ask what they are trying to protect, restore, or create. Give them enough space to be heard and enough guidance to be helpful. That is not indulgence. It is intelligence. It is how a human nervous system finds its way home.

This has been just a whistle stop tour of a subject that fascinates me and I think I love working with the emotional aspect of psychology more than anything else, because for me it’s the aspect so often overlooked and yet the aspect that is the most important.  Its often not what happens to us but how we feel about what happened that is the centre of both distress and recovery.

As always until next time

Carla