The message arrived unexpected.
Ten names listed – mine was not among them.
Meaning: my pitch deck didn’t convince the jury.
I didn’t expect to win.
But still – it hurt more than I thought it would.
I cried. Hard.
“Let it all out and you’ll feel better,” I remembered from a self-development workshop I once took.
The only problem: I didn’t feel better.
Not at all.
Why letting it all out doesn’t always work
If you’re like many people, you probably know the advice: Feel the feelings – and they will pass.
Let them in, let them out, and you’ll be lighter.
For me, that never worked.
I didn’t feel lighter.
I felt drenched.
No energy. No clarity. Just… fog.
Still sad. Still lonely. And now, also ashamed for having “overreacted.”
So what’s going on? Why doesn’t it help?
You don’t have to feel it all – to feel better
You don’t need to feel every feeling like crazy to calm down when you’re overwhelmed.
Because that’s not how our nervous system works.
In fact, trying to feel it all – all at once, all the way – can make things worse.
It’s not only unnecessary for healing – it can be counterproductive.
Peter Levine, founder of Somatic Experiencing, in his book In an Unspoken Voice, calls this the titration method – approaching overwhelming feelings in very small, manageable doses so the nervous system can safely process them. [Link to the book]
When you’re overwhelmed, your system doesn’t process.
It protects. It shuts down. Or spins.
What looks like “emotional release” from the outside might actually be your body losing its grip on safety.
Tears don’t always mean healing.
Sometimes they mean collapse.
Your nervous system has limits
And when you push too hard – emotionally or physically – it can’t tell the difference between healing and danger.
It just tries to keep you alive.
That’s why it matters how you feel a feeling.
Not how deeply, how fully, how long.
You don’t need to dive to the bottom of the ocean to know there’s water.
Example: the spiral
Imagine you’re sitting on your couch after a hard day.
You’re tired. Frustrated. Sad, maybe.
You start to cry.
It feels good, at first – like something is moving.
But five minutes later, you’re still crying. Ten.
Your chest is tight. Your thoughts are spiraling.
There’s no relief – just more intensity.
That’s not emotional processing.
That’s flooding.
And flooding rarely brings clarity.
So what helps instead?
Something much simpler – and much more effective:
Contact. Not catharsis.
- A hand on your chest.
- Then a slow exhale.
- A quiet sentence like: I notice this is a lot. I don’t have to go all the way in.
You’re not avoiding the feeling.
You’re containing it.
Staying with it – but not inside it.
And that’s the difference between being with your emotion… and being swallowed by it.
Healing is about pacing, not flooding
When we’re overwhelmed by emotion, our system gets flooded.
We cry, we scream, we vent – or go silent.
And we’re told: That’s healing.
But the truth is: it’s often just overload.
Our nervous system needs pacing.
Rhythm.
Containment.
Like waves at the shore – not like a tsunami.
The key is not to let it all out.
The key is to notice what wants out – and give it space without drowning in it.
What actually helps when you feel overwhelmed
- Noticing the emotion without fusing with it.
- Naming what’s happening – softly.
- Giving the body something to do: a hand on your chest and a long breath, maybe a grounding touch.
Letting the wave move through you – in a way that keeps you present.
You don’t heal by collapsing into your feelings.
You heal by being with them – gently, clearly, one drop at a time.
Find out more about this gentle way of approaching emotions here: How the Gentle Stop Emotional Eating Method Can Interrupt a Binge Before It Starts
Why the old advice sticks around
You may wonder why we’re still told to let it all out when it often leaves us exhausted.
The answer is simple: these ideas were born long before we truly understood how the nervous system works.
Emotions used to be seen as something stored – as if the body were a container that needed to be emptied.
Crying was considered cleansing.
Screaming: liberating.
And yes – sometimes that can help.
But when done without regulation, it often does the opposite.
Today we know: the nervous system isn’t a pipe you clear.
It’s a living, sensing, self-regulating field.
And it doesn’t need to be emptied – it needs to be met.
Gently. Gradually. With enough safety.
Why cake or scrolling or drinking feels easier
And when we don’t know how to do that – we eat. Or scroll. Or drink. Or lash out.
Not because we’re weak.
But because we’re trying to cope.
Food is one of the fastest ways to do that.
It calms the system – for a moment.
Scrolling numbs the tension.
Smoking brings rhythm to our breath.
Drinking slows down the noise.
These are not character flaws. They’re nervous system strategies.
Temporary. Imperfect. Often costly.
But they all point to the same truth: we need a way to be with our feelings without being undone by them.
A practice you can try right now
Here’s what works for me:
I put my hand on my chest – and I breathe. I say to myself:
It hurts. A lot. But I’m here. You’re not alone.
Usually, my system calms down a little.
This isn’t woo woo. It’s biology.
Because being in contact with ourselves is essential for calming overwhelm.
You can’t calm down in the middle of a hurricane.
Too dangerous, whispers the amygdala.
But with contact, the body feels a bit safer.
And once safety comes back, thinking returns too.
And thinking – believe it or not – is good for staying calm.
Maybe you’ll try it the next time overwhelm hits. It might reduce your cake consumption by 78%.
What could you do next? Find out more on how to avoid cake – but only if you really don’t want it 😉
Emotional Eating and the Nervous System (a body-based explanation)
