The Disorganised Paradox: I Am Both Deeply Emotional and Emotionless

Why You Treat Others Badly and Sabotage the Good

Photograph by Irina Iriser on Pexels

There was a time I didn’t relate to the idea of being emotionally avoidant in relationships.

I was always chasing someone, caught up in some obsessive connection that lit my emotional brain on fire.

Then I began to realise that the whole reason I was chasing these people was because they were unavailable. When I boiled down who they were showing up as, there was no way I could like them. What was there to like? No replies, rejection, and to be honest, I barely knew them. I’d be obsessed after a couple of dates.

From there, I had to rewire my brain and turn myself off people who clearly weren’t right for me — only then, when I began dating more available people, I hit a new blocker:

A part of me was afraid to let love in. I was avoidant to the very love I wanted from others.

I’ve been the quote-on-quote typical “avoidant” but I’ve also been the love-hungry anxious person and it turns out I am both.

I am a paradox: Prone to being emotional, but also prone to being emotionless.

I wanted to delve into this topic today. Why can disorganised people be highly emotion but also numb? This ties into the classic disorganised trait of pushing and pulling people away.

Disorganised Individuals ARE Chronically Emotional — Which is Part of the Problem

There’s a lyric by Florence and the Machine that goes, “Sometimes, I see so much beauty. I don’t think that I can cope”, that hits me in the chest.

I am a romantic, I love the idea of love and deeply want to love, but the weight of it and all the complex emotions it triggers in me can wear me down.

Simultaneously, I also fear being alone. This was especially true in my early days of my attachment work. Being alone was uncomfortable, and I wanted someone else to distract me and make me forget myself.

Therein lies the paradox: There are competing beliefs that create a contradictory cocktail of emotions inside the disorganised person’s mind.

At once, we’re pushed towards connection by our fear of being alone and pushed away from it by our fear of intimacy.

In my experience, it isn’t that disorganised people aren’t emotional, we’re too emotional.

Numbness and Dissociation: An Alternate Path When Emotional Regulation Fails

I’ve spoken at length before about how disorganised individuals struggle regulating stress and other difficult emotions. Trauma can leaves us hypersensitive, and if we suffered through our pain alone, we’ll resort to maladaptive strategies to regulate ourselves.

In my case, as a child who deeply feared what being gay meant for him, I learned the best way to cope with my internal struggle was to dissociate from myself entirely. I couldn’t handle the emotional weight of all my troubles — it was either find a way to ignore them (dential) or allow them to swallow me whole.

Learning to freeze or dissociate from distressing emotions can serve it’s purpose in keeping us safe as kids, but has repercussions for us as adults. Our automatic response to stress and emotional distress may be to feel confused, or numb, or demotivated. Most of us wouldn’t react this way if we could choose, we just do.

In relationships, the result of this response can look like:

• Seeking out short-term flings when you’re lonely.

• Stonewalling and closing yourself off to your partner during times of conflict/tension.

• Pursuing someone you’re genuinely interested in and then backing away when they reciprocate your interest.

• Relying on substances, partying, or other means to numb emotions and connect with others.

• Hiding your authentic parts in the dating process.

To the outside, this can make a disorganised person seem like a player, aloof, and careless with the emotions of others.

In our unhealed, unaware state, we can be.

The Need for Compassion

“The way you treat your own heart is the way you will end up treating everyone else’s.”- -John Eldridge

I can see why the people I’ve interacted with in the past would think ill of me for the way I have handled their feelings. The juxtaposition between my internal world, which deeply wants to care and love and do right, and how that can contrast with some of my coping strategies is something I continue to analyse and break down.

To that, I try not to judge myself too much for the times I’ve fallen short and the times I’ve been careless with other people’s feelings.

Shame and regret are healthy in small doses, but too much of this and it becomes toxic and only prevents openness and self-honesty.

It takes a lot of courage to take responsibility and admit you could have done better. It requires you to look within, reflect, and commit to facing the hurt we suppressed and ignored.

It’s not easy, but the work is worthwhile, so keep going!

Thank you for reading this article. I write thoughful content throughout the week on topics relating to personal growth and relationships.