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  • Writer: Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
    Julie Barris | Crisis Counselor | Therapist-in-Training
  • May 19

People with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) often experience intense emotions, unstable relationships, and a deep fear of abandonment. Supporting someone with BPD requires patience, consistency, and a willingness to offer reassurance even when it's hard.

Don’t Leave Me: What Distance Feels Like for Someone with Borderline Personality Disorder

Imagine standing at the edge of a cliff, screaming for someone to hold your hand—but they’re just far enough away that you can’t reach them, and you're not sure if they’re walking toward you… or away. That’s what emotional distance can feel like for someone living with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).


For many, a text message left unanswered or a slight change in tone during a conversation may be brushed off as normal. But for someone with BPD, these moments can ignite a powerful storm of fear, shame, and panic. It’s not about being dramatic. It’s about living with a brain wired to expect abandonment and wired for survival.


The Abyss of Abandonment


At the heart of BPD is an intense fear of abandonment—whether real, imagined, or tiny in nature. To the outside world, it might seem irrational. But for someone with BPD, every sign of distance feels like a prelude to loss. It doesn’t matter if the other person is just busy, tired, or emotionally preoccupied—their absence can feel like a vanishing act. And when that feeling hits, it’s not just emotional. It’s physical. It can feel like free-falling in an empty room, like your chest is hollow, your breath caught somewhere between grief and terror.

This is why distance, even emotional or momentary, becomes so unbearable.



The Need for “Too Much” Reassurance


You might hear someone with BPD say things like:


  • “Are you mad at me?”

  • “Do you still love me?”

  • “You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”


It’s not manipulation—it’s self-protection. Because when your inner world is a battleground between needing closeness and fearing it will disappear, reassurance becomes a lifeline. Repeating, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” might feel excessive to some, but for someone with BPD, it’s like oxygen in an emotional blackout.


Persistence Is the Superpower


What makes the biggest difference? Consistent, compassionate presence.


Comfort that shows up over and over, even when it feels repetitive. Not perfection—just persistence. A quiet message that says, “You’re not too much. I’ll stay with you through the waves.”


Whether you're a therapist, partner, friend, or family member, your grounded presence helps rewrite the narrative. You’re offering a counter-voice to the inner scream that says, “Everyone leaves.”

Sometimes it’s not about finding the perfect thing to say. Sometimes it’s about showing up again tomorrow. And the next day.


But what if they push you away when you try again and again?


Well… try again.


If you love or care about this person deeply—even if part of you feels annoyed, frustrated, or hurt in the moment—keep showing up. That consistency, even in the face of rejection, is what's needed most. That’s what begins to undo the lifelong story of abandonment. That’s what ultimately brings you closer.



So here’s the question:


If someone’s heart is built like a room with too many exit signs, are you willing to be the person who keeps coming back in?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



More Related Articles:

Trauma flashbacks are vivid, often overwhelming experiences where a person mentally relives a past traumatic event as if it's happening all over again. They can be triggered by sights, sounds, smells, or even emotions that resemble aspects of the original trauma. During a flashback, the brain's threat system is activated, making it hard to distinguish between past and present—which can significantly impact relationships, daily functioning, and especially parenting.

When the Past Parents the Present: How Trauma Flashbacks Shape the Way We Raise Our Children

Imagine this: You’re standing in your kitchen, your toddler screaming after dropping a cup of milk. Suddenly, your body tenses. Your heart races. Your palms sweat. You’re no longer in your kitchen—you’re back in that place, in that moment. It was decades ago, but it floods back now, triggered by a scream, a sound, a feeling. This is a trauma flashback—and for many parents, it’s not just a personal experience, but one that quietly seeps into how they parent their children.


The Invisible Link Between Trauma and Parenting


Parenting is often described as the ultimate test of patience, love, and endurance. But for parents with unhealed trauma, it becomes a battlefield between past and present. Trauma flashbacks, unlike memories, are not just recollections—they are relivings. The body and brain react as if the traumatic event is happening again. For parents, this can interfere with emotional regulation, communication, and even the ability to feel safe in their own home.


Without realizing it, trauma can hijack parenting moments. A child’s tantrum might not just be annoying—it might be terrifying. Crying might feel like criticism. Boundary-testing might feel like betrayal. In these moments, the brain is not reacting to the child in front of them, but to the ghost of their own childhood trauma.


Emotional Time Travel


Flashbacks may come in many forms: a sound that stings, a smell that transports, or a behavior that mirrors a once-feared adult. The nervous system doesn’t distinguish between past and present—it simply reacts. That reaction can look like yelling, shutting down, emotional withdrawal, or even dissociation. And the heartbreaking reality is that these trauma responses can confuse and distress children who need connection, not fear.


Parents may find themselves overreacting to minor issues, feeling numb during important bonding moments, or unable to tolerate typical developmental behaviors. Guilt and shame often follow. Many ask, “What’s wrong with me?” when the real question is, “What happened to me?”



What to Do In the Moment of Realization


When that moment of realization hits—when you suddenly recognize that you're being triggered, reacting from a place of past pain—pause. It’s a powerful moment, and what you do next matters.


1. Name it. Silently or out loud, say: “This is a trauma response.” Naming what's happening helps you step out of it and creates just enough space between the reaction and the response.


2. Breathe deeply. Inhale for 4 counts, hold for 4, exhale for 6. Repeat. Your breath is the fastest way to cue safety to your nervous system and bring you back into the present.


3. Ground yourself. Press your feet into the floor. Look around the room and name five things you see. Grab a textured object or splash cold water on your hands—anything to remind your body: You are safe now.


4. Reconnect with your child. If possible, kneel down, soften your tone, and say something like: “I need a moment to calm my body. I’m working on it. I love you.” This models emotional regulation and helps repair the bond.


5. Reflect later. Journal what triggered the response and how you felt. Over time, patterns emerge—insight that becomes the blueprint for healing.


These micro-moments of awareness and self-regulation may seem small, but they are the quiet revolutions that shift generational patterns.



Healing to Break the Cycle


The good news? Trauma doesn’t have to define your parenting. Becoming aware of how trauma flashbacks influence your behavior is the first powerful step. Therapy—especially trauma-informed modalities like EMDR, somatic experiencing, or internal family systems—can help reprocess these painful experiences and create space for healing.


Mindfulness, grounding exercises, and nervous system regulation strategies are not just buzzwords—they are lifelines for parents working to stay present, regulated, and responsive. And seeking help isn’t weakness—it’s one of the most courageous gifts a parent can give their child: the gift of breaking generational cycles.


Eye-Opening Question:If your child could meet the younger version of you—the one who endured the trauma—how would they want you to show up for that inner child today?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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Breaking the cycle of generational trauma begins with awareness and the brave decision to do things differently—even when it’s hard. By choosing healing over silence, we create a new legacy where pain doesn’t get passed down, but transformed.

It Didn’t Start With You—But It Can End With You: Breaking the Cycle of Generational Trauma

We inherit more than our grandmother’s eyes or our father’s laugh—we carry stories, unspoken rules, and survival patterns passed down like heirlooms. But not all inheritances are visible. Generational trauma is the emotional and psychological pain passed from one generation to the next, often without a name or language to describe it. It can show up as anxiety that never seems to have a source, patterns of emotional neglect, or relationship dynamics that feel impossible to change.


Breaking this cycle doesn’t mean blaming our parents or shaming the past—it means recognizing what we’ve carried and choosing, consciously, to do something different. And while that journey is deeply personal, it’s also profoundly healing for future generations.



Where Does Generational Trauma Begin?


Often, it begins with a traumatic event that overwhelms a person or community's ability to cope—war, abuse, neglect, addiction, racism, forced displacement. When left unprocessed, the emotional fallout can shape parenting styles, attachment, and core beliefs about safety, love, and worth.


Trauma may be passed down biologically (studies in epigenetics have shown trauma can affect gene expression) and behaviorally (through modeling, silence, or overcompensation). A child raised in a household where emotional expression was unsafe may grow up to unconsciously repeat those same dynamics—or swing to the other extreme.


What Breaking the Cycle Looks Like


Breaking generational trauma isn't about being perfect—it’s about being intentional. It might look like:


  • Naming the pattern: Acknowledging that what you experienced wasn’t “normal,” even if it was common in your family.

  • Seeking therapy: Especially trauma-informed therapy like EMDR, IFS, or somatic approaches, to help process what your nervous system learned long ago.

  • Setting boundaries: With family members who may still operate from a place of hurt or denial.

  • Learning new parenting tools: If you're a parent or caregiver, practicing conscious, respectful, and attuned parenting can change everything.

  • Building emotional literacy: Learning how to sit with difficult feelings, communicate needs, and stay grounded.

  • Forgiveness—not as approval, but release: Sometimes we carry anger that was never ours. Forgiveness can be a way of setting ourselves free.


Turning the Tide in the Moment: How to Interrupt the Cycle


One of the most powerful ways to break trauma cycles is in real-time—during those everyday moments that used to tip into explosions or shutdowns. Here are examples of how to turn anger and frustration into healing:


You feel yourself about to yell at your child: Instead of repeating what was done to you, pause. Take a breath. Say aloud, "I'm feeling really overwhelmed right now. I need a moment to calm down so I can respond with care." You’re modeling regulation—not perfection.


Your partner triggers you, and you want to withdraw or lash out: You pause and say, "I want to connect with you, but I'm feeling activated right now. Can we take a break and come back to this in 10 minutes?" You’re showing that space is a form of love, not rejection.


Your child spills something and the reflex to punish rises: Instead of reacting, you kneel to their level and say, "Mistakes happen. Let's clean this up together." You’re teaching that mistakes aren’t met with fear but with growth.


These micro-moments of intention are where the deepest generational healing happens.



Healing Is Contagious


When one person heals, they shift the emotional tone of an entire family system. Children of parents who seek healing often grow up with a healthier foundation for relationships and self-worth. And even if the rest of your family isn’t on board, your inner work can still echo through generations.


When the Family Won’t Acknowledge the Pain


One of the hardest parts? Doing this work when those around you deny anything ever happened. The silence can feel louder than the trauma. But your healing doesn’t require their permission. It requires your truth, your courage, and often, a supportive therapist or community who can help you remember you’re not crazy—you’re breaking cycles.


Start Small, But Start


You don’t have to rewrite the whole family story overnight. Start with one step: journaling your truth, finding a therapist, reading a book on trauma, or practicing self-compassion. Each small act is a thread in a new legacy—one you get to weave.


So Here’s the Question:


If it didn’t start with you—but you could end it—what would you want your story to become?


💬 Ready to start your own healing journey?


Book a session with one of our compassionate therapists at Moody Melon Counseling. We’re here when you’re ready. 🍉



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