When the Ground Drops Out

Photo by Jake Ingle on Unsplash

When something or someone triggers strong emotions, it can feel like the ground disappears beneath you. One moment you’re solid, and the next your chest tightens, your thoughts race, and your body reacts before you have time to think. It can be disorienting and unsettling, as if you have suddenly lost your footing.

But that moment isn’t failure.
It’s where the real work begins.

Most of us were never taught what to do when emotions surge. We learned to react, to explain, to defend, avoid, or shut down. We learned we better pus feelings away or we’ll get swept up in them. Slowing down in the middle of an emotional reaction can feel unnatural at first, even risky. But slowing down is often the most stabilizing thing you can do.

Anchoring in the Body

When emotions rise, your thoughts will almost always try to take over. They race ahead, replaying conversations, predicting outcomes, or assigning blame. While your mind spins, your body is already telling the truth.

That is why the first step is physical, not intellectual.

Pause and notice where the feeling lives in your body. Is there tightness in your chest or throat. Heat in your face. A heavy feeling in your stomach. Pressure in your shoulders. Numbness or restlessness in your hands or legs.

Know that you don’t need to change the sensation. You don’t need to understand it yet. Simply noticing it helps anchor you in the present moment. Your body becomes a steady point when your thoughts feel scattered. This physical awareness slows the emotional surge and keeps you from being pulled into automatic reactions.

Understanding the Layers of a Trigger

Every trigger (i.e., emotional reaction that’s stronger than seems to fit the moment or situation) has layers. What you are feeling in the present moment is rarely ONLY about what just happened. The present touches something from the past, and the past brings forward an old belief about yourself.

That belief often sounds familiar.
”I am not enough.”
”I am about to be left.”
”I’ll be abandoned.”
”They’ll reject me.”
”My feelings don’t matter.”
”I have to fix this or I’ll lose the connection.”

These beliefs aren’t random. They were formed at times when you didn’t have much power or choice. They helped you make sense of situations that felt overwhelming or unsafe. But when they get activated now, they can feel just as intense as they did back then.

If you can pause long enough to notice which belief is being stirred, something important shifts. You move from being inside the belief to observing it. That small bit of distance loosens its grip.

Reminder Versus Repeat

One of the most grounding distinctions you can make in an emotional moment is this. What is happening now is a reminder, not a repeat.

Your nervous system may react as if the past is happening again. Your body may feel just as flooded. But the present moment is different. You’re older. You have more awareness. You have tools you did not have before.

Reminding yourself of this doesn’t mean dismissing your feelings. It means orienting yourself to reality. You’re here. You’re safe enough in this moment. You can breathe. You can slow down. You can respond rather than react.

That reassurance, offered gently to yourself, begins to settle the system.

Shifting the Focus Inward

It’s tempting to focus on what the other person said or did. To analyze their motives. To decide whether they were right or wrong. While there may be a time for those questions, they’re rarely helpful in the heat of a trigger.

Healing deepens when you turn your attention inward.

What happened inside you.
What emotions rose.
What sensations showed up in your body.
What story about yourself came online.

This is not about blaming yourself. It is about understanding your internal experience with curiosity instead of judgment. Writing about it can help. Breathing through it can help. Sitting quietly and noticing without rushing to fix can help.

Each time you do this, you strengthen your ability to stay present with yourself. That presence becomes a form of safety.

Practicing Patience With Yourself

Healing isn’t a single realization or a perfectly handled moment. It’s a practice. It unfolds through repetition, patience, and self kindness.

Offer yourself the same patience you would offer someone you care about. If a friend felt overwhelmed, you wouldn’t rush them or criticize them for feeling too much. You would listen. You would give them time. You would remind them that they are not broken.

You deserve the same treatment from yourself.

Over time, these moments of slowing down add up. Triggers still happen, but they do not take over as completely. You recover more quickly. You recognize the patterns sooner. You stay more grounded in who you are now, not who you had to be before.

That is how healing becomes something you live, not just something you think about.