EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTERS: FROM REACTIVITY TO EMOTIONAL AGENCY

Who here hasn’t ever felt as though they were riding an emotional roller coaster at some point?

There are days when we wake up feeling upbeat, energetic and optimistic, only to find ourselves plummeting a few hours later — particularly during more turbulent periods of our lives. Brief changes in mood, especially when linked to everyday events, are usually more indicative of emotional reactivity — sometimes accompanied by difficulty regulating our emotions — than of any specific mental disorder.

In bipolar disorder, mood changes occur as part of more sustained episodes, generally accompanied by clear changes in energy, sleep, thinking and behaviour. They are not simply rapid shifts between morning and afternoon. Intense and sudden emotional fluctuations can also occur in borderline personality disorder, often in response to interpersonal experiences such as feeling rejected, abandoned or misunderstood. In that case, however, they form part of a broader and more enduring pattern of emotional and relational functioning.

That said, the question at the heart of today’s post is this: how can we stop being merely passengers on this roller coaster and regain some influence over where it takes us?

Another metaphor I find useful is the difference between a thermometer and a thermostat. A thermometer simply records what is happening: the temperature outside changes, and its reading changes accordingly. A thermostat also registers the external temperature, but it uses that information to take action, cooling or heating the internal environment as needed in order to keep it as stable as possible.

Psychologically speaking, living like a thermometer means allowing every external event to determine, almost automatically, what we feel and what we do. We become whatever happens to us, and our emotions rise and fall according to the atmosphere around us and the people we happen to be with.

Acting more like a thermostat doesn't not mean having complete control over the world or preventing emotions from arising. It means creating some room for manoeuvre, so that we can respond in ways that protect us from what the world stirs up inside us.

This is what I mean by emotional agency: living in accordance with our principles and personal values, remaining present in the here and now, and taking a more active role in our emotional lives, as far as circumstances allow. It is not about choosing everything we feel. It is about becoming more involved in how we care for, express and respond to the emotions that arise within us.

The term most commonly used in the literature is “emotion regulation”, which is very close to what I am describing. The idea of emotional agency, however, places particular emphasis on the active role we can play in dealing with what comes from outside and affects us. It involves a combination of personal principles and values, choices and responsibility.

By “responsibility”, I do not mean blame. I mean recognising the part that is ours in shaping the next step, within the limits of what is actually under our control.

None of this means becoming emotionally impervious or dismissing our feelings. A certain amount of fluctuation is part of being alive and engaged with the world. We are permeable, affectable and relational beings — and thankfully so.

What can change our experience is learning to distinguish between elements that usually arrive so tightly bound together that they appear to be one and the same.

For the sake of clarity, we can separate the event — what actually happened — from the interpretation, meaning what our mind concluded about it; the emotion, experienced through the body, our thoughts and our impulses; and the response, meaning what we then choose to do.

Imagine, for instance, that someone who matters to you has not replied to your message. That is the event. The thought that they do not care about you may be your interpretation. Sadness, anger, humiliation or a sense of rejection may be the emotional responses. Sending an aggressive message, checking whether something may have happened to them, demanding an immediate reply, asking them to prove that they really care, ending the relationship or simply waiting before doing anything are all possible responses — although they are not all equally constructive or helpful.

When the event, the interpretation, the emotion and the response merge into one, everything seems to happen at once. We feel something and immediately act on it, as though there were no space in between. Life throws us from side to side, up and down, from the outside in, leaving us feeling powerless — much like being strapped into a roller coaster.

When we manage to separate these elements, even for a few moments, small spaces of freedom begin to appear. They may be brief, but they can be enough for us to start choosing rather than simply reacting.

S-T-O-P

One simple way of creating this space, which I often recommend, is a technique I learned from the Brazilian psychologist Bernard Rangé. In Portuguese it goes by the acronym P.A.R.E. — the word for "stop" — and it translates neatly into English as S-T-O-P. It takes less than a minute and can be practiced almost anywhere.

S stands for stop. Before you respond or act, give yourself a few seconds to take in what has just happened. Not every situation demands an immediate reaction, however loudly your mind and body may insist otherwise.

T is for taking a breath. Turn your attention to your breathing and, without trying too hard to control it, follow at least three full cycles of inhaling and exhaling. The point is not to make the feeling go away, but to slow the reaction down for a few moments.

O stands for observe. Try to identify what you are feeling right now: anger, sadness, fear, shame, frustration, jealousy, helplessness — to name only a few possibilities. Putting a name to an emotion often makes it easier to understand and manage. What felt like a vague, shapeless discomfort begins to take form once you can say what it actually is.

P, finally, is for proceeding with intention — choosing your next step. You may not be able to choose what you feel in the moment, but you can choose what you do: reply now or later, speak up or stay silent, move closer or set a boundary. Look for an action that is consistent with your principles and personal values — the things you believe are worth protecting and prioritizing in your life — rather than simply following the impulse of the moment.

Personal principles and values provide direction, inspiration and a point of reference for what needs to be protected. They are not tasks to be completed in a single day. Being a present and understanding partner, protecting your physical and emotional integrity, minimising harm and looking for constructive ways of dealing with problems are all examples of such values.

They offer a sense of direction even when the terrain becomes difficult. When things are not going well, we can return to them as guides, asking whether a particular decision is good or harmful, and whether it is consistent or inconsistent with what matters most to us.

To keep this inner compass close at hand, it can be helpful to create a small ritual. When you wake up, choose one value to guide the next few hours and translate it into a specific intention.

If the value is being meaningfully present in another person’s life, for example, you might decide that during at least one conversation that day, you will allow the other person to finish what they need to say before preparing your reply. You might also make a conscious effort to show affection, availability and openness, offering support without judgement.

At the end of the day, ask yourself whether that principle found its way into any concrete action. It may seem like a small thing, but it can change the standpoint from which the day is lived. Repeated over time, it may also change the course of your emotional life.

A three-minute breathing space

Another practice that can be particularly helpful in moments of overload is an adaptation of the three-minute breathing space, commonly used in mindfulness-based interventions.

During the first minute, notice what is alive within you at that moment: the thoughts moving through your mind, the emotions that are present and the sensations in your body. There is no need to correct, remove or resolve anything. Simply notice what is there.

During the second minute, bring your attention to your breathing. Use it as an anchor that reconnects you with the present moment, rather than remaining completely absorbed in what is going on in your mind — whether that means awakening memories and feelings that seem as old as you can remember, or anticipating future consequences, fears and worries.

During the third minute, widen your attention once more to include your whole body. Notice your face, shoulders, chest, abdomen, hands and feet. Become aware of how you are occupying your own space, including both the situation around you and your internal world. Only then return to whatever you were doing.

This brief moment of presence does not erase the emotion, but it can reduce reactivity and impulsiveness and restore some sense of control.

Creating the conditions for greater stability

Certain everyday habits provide a foundation for better emotional regulation. These include keeping reasonably regular sleeping hours, moving your body, getting some natural light in the morning, taking breaks from screens, eating in a way that avoids dramatic fluctuations in energy, maintaining close and healthy relationships, and preserving at least a basic degree of routine and predictability.

None of these things is a magic solution. They are simply the groundwork: the conditions that can help the mind feel safe enough to regulate emotions more effectively.

When we are sleep-deprived, constantly overwhelmed, physically inactive, isolated or living within a completely unpredictable routine, the space between feeling and acting tends to become narrower. Looking after our daily habits will not resolve every conflict in life, but it can give the mind better conditions in which to face them.

Response agreements

It can also be useful to create what I call response agreements for situations that tend to throw us off balance.

This might mean deciding in advance that you will not reply to emotionally charged messages late at night, that you will use P.A.R.E. before reacting to criticism, or that you will not make important decisions in the heat of an argument. It might also mean writing down whatever the impulse is urging you to say, saving it and reading it again a few hours later, or telling the other person that you need some time before continuing the conversation.

These boundaries are not a sign of coldness. They are ways of protecting your own emotional integrity as well as your relationship with the other person.

When we know that a particular situation makes us especially vulnerable, we do not have to rely entirely on willpower in the moment. We can establish some rules of self-care beforehand, while we are still calm enough to think clearly.

What if everything goes wrong?

And what happens when, despite all of this, everything falls apart on a particular day? At that point, it is worth remembering two things.

The first is compassion. Compassion towards yourself or another person does not mean avoidance, permissiveness or excusing inappropriate behaviour. It means acknowledging suffering without adding an unnecessary layer of humiliation and cruelty, either towards yourself or someone else.

Treating yourself as you would treat a friend after a mistake can increase your ability to face what happened, repair any harm and look for different ways of behaving in the future. Constant self-punishment, by contrast, often traps us inside the mistake rather than helping us transform it.

The second is consistency. Acting according to our personal values does not mean turning principles into rigidity, repeatedly justifying our own harmful behaviour or using our values as an excuse to ignore another person’s point of view. It means seeking some continuity between the way we claim it is right to behave and the way we actually behave.

One small value-based choice each day may ultimately matter more than a dramatic change of direction that does not last beyond the following week.

Emotional agency does not mean never losing control. It means noticing sooner, making repairs more honestly, and returning more frequently and more quickly to the direction we have chosen for ourselves.

When to seek professional help

It is also important to remember that some emotional fluctuations warrant professional assessment. This is the case when changes are intense, persistent or cause significant impairment; when there are pronounced changes in sleep and energy, unusual acceleration or slowing down, impulsive behaviour, uncharacteristic spending, grandiosity, hopelessness or a persistent sense of emptiness; or when a longstanding pattern of instability repeatedly affects relationships, work or the ability to care for oneself.

Professional help is also important when the strategies a person once relied on no longer seem sufficient, or when their impulses begin to place either themselves or other people at risk.

Seeking an assessment does not mean searching for a label. It means recognising that sometimes care does not need to — and should not — be carried out alone.

Emotional agency also includes knowing when it is time to ask for help and having the humility to do so before things become worse.

The ups and downs will continue to exist. Life does not become a perfectly flat landscape, free of every jolt and surprise.

But when we replace pure reactivity with presence, understanding and guiding principles, the roller coaster no longer has complete control. We continue to feel, but we are no longer merely passive passengers in a world acting upon us.

Little by little, we begin to play a part in regulating our own internal temperature, with assertiveness, direction and kindness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Image credit: AI-generated from a prompt written by the author.