The negative emotional games people play

[deno]

I especially liked the sticky hands on the steering wheel.

 

[deno]

Thank you for sharing the Terry Real video. I listened closely and found myself both emotional and grounded by the end. There was a part he said that stuck with me deeply...about the adaptive child, and how we can lovingly take their “sticky hands off the steering wheel.”

That was me. Most of my life, I survived by adapting. I became who others needed me to be—never fully myself, just managing people’s moods and protecting myself from harm. Being seen usually meant being hurt, so I faded. And yet, I still wanted a connection. I just didn’t know what a safe connection even looked like.

Terry’s framing around us, instead of me vs. you, was like hearing a language I always knew but forgot how to speak. I want that. I think a part of me always has.

The pain I carry isn’t just from trauma—it’s from not being understood. Being betrayed when I showed up with kindness. Having people take and never give. And still…I find I don’t hate them. I just don’t want to live in that pain anymore. I want to build something better for myself. Maybe even share it with people who know how to honor it.

I’m still working through regret, loss, and the chaos trauma brings. But I’m no longer letting that wounded part of me run the show. There’s a wiser part now, and I’m learning to trust it.

If you’re like me, stuck between past survival and future hope, know this: even brief moments of peace are sacred. They show us what’s possible.

 

[Torch]

I'm going to push back a bit on the framework @Ecdysis has titled this thread. "Negative emotional games."

Ecdysis' example cites adults who seem to be experiencing dysregulation... and when children are subjected to dysregulated adults they not only adapt, but struggle to learn to regulate themselves.
Wouldn't this lead to re-enacting the same behavior? The child later displacing anger at inappropriate targets, and/or lashing out when provoked- where some anger might be appropriate (but perhaps not in the amount supplied).

It's the same behavior. Survivors of dysregulated adults exploding at them tend to have an inner child (or inner children) who struggle to self-regulate, which in turn will eventually re-create the harmful cycle. The children who were abused will go on to recreate the pattern b/c their inner child doesn't regulate itself. The way out? Therapy, most likely. Learning self-regulation, probably in the face of a dysregulated adult displacing anger, unfortunatly.

A crying inner child isn't intentionally playing games, but it is trying to selfishly be seen and heard. I can see how adults who see other adults failing at self-regulation might misread the situation as someone playing negative emotional games.

It might be more compassionate to view adults who can't self-regulate as people who have hurt inner children. They don't have the skills to self-regulate, or their stress cup might be too full.

Calling all lashing out behavior 'negative emotional games' could be misleading. There really are some people like narcs and sociopaths who are okay with manipulating and harming others for personal gain among other motives. Not sure how much overlap there is here dysregulation but I have a hunch there is a difference in there somewhere.

 

[Evie loves Sam]

I’ve spent most of my life feeling like being seen meant being hurt. That visibility made me a target of blame, of shame, of other people’s projections.

Most of my adult life with my ex and his family. Big blame, shame, domineering, intimidating and bame calling types.

I’ve started learning that the right people won’t punish vulnerability. They won’t need me to shrink to feel okay about themselves. And maybe the most healing thing is realizing I don’t have to prove my worth to be worthy.

Great advice! How are you getting on with not shrinking? Any tips?

 

[Friday]

I'm going to push back a bit on the framework @Ecdysis has titled this thread. "Negative emotional games."

Ecdysis' example cites adults who seem to be experiencing dysregulation... and when childre

I’m ADHD. What @Ecdysis has described is 99.999% of EVERYBODY. At. All. Times.

Speaking as someone who is ADHD, it’s a constant (uphill, in snow) battle to decide to even CARE about WTF people mean, much less what they want, when nearly everyone is lying, almost constantly… about EVERYTHING.

As words, faces, bodies… almost never line up… what you’re “supposed to” believe, &/or act on, is a constantly moving target.

Adults experiencing extreme dysreg? Fall into the 0.001% of truly honest people.

Minor dysreg, the maaaaybe 8% of people to believe. Rather than the opposite. And the 9:10 people playing BS emotional games, almost constantly, at all times.

 

[Torch]

I’m ADHD. What @Ecdysis has described is 99.999% of EVERYBODY. At. All. Times.

Speaking as someone who is ADHD, it’s a constant (uphill, in snow) battle to decide to even CARE about WTF people mean, much less what they want, when nearly everyone is lying, almost constantly… about EVERYTHING.

As words, faces, bodies… almost never line up… what you’re “supposed to” believe, &/or act on, is a constantly moving target.

Adults experiencing extreme dysreg? Fall into the 0.001% of truly honest people.

Minor dysreg, the maaaaybe 8% of people to believe. Rather than the opposite. And the 9:10 people playing BS emotional games, almost constantly, at all times.

Yes. Sadly, what you are describing seems to be the 'norms' of human socialization in today's western society.
Some people might call this 'tact'.

Having a public self does mean putting on a 'performance' to an extent. Not being straightforward and concealing what you really mean is taught to people from a young age, and yes neurodivergent folks often have a more difficult time 'picking up' and 'reading between the lines'. Some neurodivergent folks tend to go overkill on not saying what they really mean as a form of overcompensation for their neurodivergence.
I prefer being straightforward, but I do have 'tact' depending on the situation. My brother has been struggling with an ongoing illness. I saw him a few months back. I could tell he was ill, but he was in good spirits and was enjoying himself and his company. As I was leaving, I decided to tell him that he seemed well, hoping some encouragement would provide a boon for him to continue his fight.

I'm not sure if this example qualifies as a 'negative emotional game', but it does fit the criteria of 'words, face, bodies, never quite line up, and what you're "supposed to" believe, act on, say, is a constantly moving target.'
These two things, the negative emotional game, and the words, face, bodies, never quite line up etc... are not always the same. There probably are times where there is overlap, but not each and every time.

I guess I could have just said nothing, but I wanted to acknowledge his strength in combating the illness and his good spirits without using too many words or being too public or open about his illness. Maybe next time I'll point out 'you seem to be in good spirits.' That's probably more straightforward, less vague, and similarly discreet and concise. This way, there will be less of a risk of misinterpretation.

Adults dysregulating does revel some true and raw emotions, but sometimes the raw anger is about something that happened in the past because of a trigger or PTSD cup full of stressors, not what is actually happening in the present. When adult dysregulation happens this way, it's not 'negative emotional games' in the way a narc or sociopath would operate, but it is still dishonest in the sense that what is literally in front of the dysregulated adult and is perceived as the problem... may not be the entire problem.

I'm still working on becoming a better regulating adult, but I find it is really difficult when I have so many unresolved interpersonal issues regarding more recent traumas as opposed to the childhood ones. Takes my brain straight to the pain, hurt, anger, grief, anguish. Even something as innocuous as a smell can do this. I don't like giving my power away, but on bad days I still don't have as much control as I would like.