But once the feeling passes, I question "was this feeling ever real?" When it fades, so does the importance it once held:
What is internal emotional permeance and emotional object constancy? (Disorganized attachment style edition)
Individuals with a disorganized attachment style or Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) often struggle with these concepts, but in this post, I’ll focus on a different manifestation of these patterns. Instead of seeking constant verbal reassurance or relying on continual acts of love to confirm that someone cares for you, I’m exploring how this dynamic unfolds internally. It's about the emotional barrier between you and your mind—where you can only care about or desire something or someone if that feeling is constant and always present. This habit can influence your emotional responses toward yourself and others; it may even bleed into your way of thinking and how you process emotions, on some days you might even experience moments of despair or hopelessness, but once the intensity of those feelings fades, so does their significance. In those intense moments, nothing else feels real, and no words or actions can alleviate them. But once the feeling subsides, the desire to understand it further also dissipates. This can cause a sense of disconnection from your own emotional experiences, leading you to question their validity or reality. When the emotional intensity drops, there's a difficulty in maintaining a "mental representation" of that feeling. This leaves you with a sense of emptiness or confusion, as if the emotion evaporated or never mattered to begin with. If your emotions can feel so real one moment and vanish the next, it's hard to believe in their authenticity, which feeds into a fear of abandonment. If you can't trust your own feelings, it's natural to worry if what you are feeling is real or true. This uncertainty makes it challenging to desire or pursue romantic connections, even though there's a part of you that longs for them.
When you struggle with this, it's not just about needing reassurance from others-it's about needing reassurance from yourself that your feelings are valid, even when they change.
In essence, it's the inability to feel something unless it completely consumes you. Subconsciously, you don’t allow yourself to want, care, or love another unless the emotion fills every part of your being. You start to question, doubt, and dismiss any thought or feeling once it fades. You may find yourself questioning your authentic feelings toward someone because "you can’t feel it anymore." The overwhelming emotion is no longer occupying your mind or causing that deep sense of longing, leading you to wonder if it ever truly existed.
It's when you meet someone new and don’t feel an instant spark or longing, you may dismiss them altogether. You tell yourself, "He can't be important—there's no immediate desire, so I can never truly want him. If he leaves now, no part of me will care." Instead of letting them in, you list every reason why they won’t fulfill your unspoken needs, and the cycle continues.
Then, when you do find yourself drawn to someone—when they check every irrational box on your list—the feeling suddenly vanishes one day. You ask yourself, "Do I even want him anymore? Why don’t I care as much as I did before? And why does it feel like I’m no longer attracted to him?" Any sense of permanence or consistency with them withers away, leaving you stuck in a state of stagnation and detachment. You think, "These feelings aren’t consuming me anymore, which must mean he was never important. If he were, my emotions would remain constant, and I wouldn’t be questioning my desire for him."
It’s the same when you listen to a song that stirs something deep within you—a hopeless emotion that lingers in the back of your mind. In those moments, all you feel is intensity lurking in the shadows. But once the song ends, so do the emotions it brought.
It’s like sitting on your bed, the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. In that moment, you feel nothing but despair, as if there’s no purpose, no meaning, no desire to continue. The heaviness is real, present. But when it eventually passes, as all feelings do, you can’t grasp it again.
You dismiss those feelings, telling yourself, "I feel okay now." The weight is gone, so you question whether you ever truly felt it at all. If an emotion can fade, you convince yourself it was never significant to begin with.
And so, the cycle continues.
You tell yourself that feelings must be constant in order to be real. "I have to always feel this way," you insist, "and if I don’t, then the feelings were never meaningful."
These habits quietly build walls around you, creating emotional barriers that prevent you from desiring someone—or something—deeply again. But allowing emotions to consume you isn’t realistic or healthy. Instead, your mind constructs defenses that hinder your ability to genuinely care, often rooted in past wounds and a lack of self-trust. You find reasons why a person isn’t right for you or downplay your emotions once they start to fade. Yet, this only distances you further from what you truly crave: connection.
At some point, your trust was broken. The love you gave went unrecognized. The safety and care you longed for never arrived. To protect yourself from pain, you’ve learned to see emotions in black and white. If a feeling isn’t always present, you assume it was never real.
Now, without realizing it, you move through life with a mindset designed to keep you "safe." But this self-protection creates a deep internal distance. You long for partnership and security in another’s presence, yet something always seems to stall the connection from forming. You search for a soul who can bring you the ease you’ve never known, yet even when you find someone who offers it, something within you resists. If you don’t recognize these subconscious patterns—the ways you undermine yourself—how can you ever break free?
As humans, we long for love and connection. We seek bonds that provide security, warmth, and belonging. Though certain emotions may seem fleeting, they never truly disappear. Instead, your mind tells you, "It’s time to let this go." But in reality, the feeling doesn’t vanish—it simply fades from conscious awareness. The question remains: how can emotions that once consumed you seem to dissolve so completely? Whether in longing for love or battling internal turmoil, if the feeling came once, it will come again.
This is especially true for those who struggle to find a partner. You seek connections that won’t leave you questioning. You search for eyes that whisper, "You won’t lose feelings for me." This is a self-protection tactic—your body’s way of shielding you from the fear of caring for someone who might ultimately leave. You worry that the person you choose won’t choose you in return. So, you set impossible expectations for yourself, thinking, "If they can meet these standards, then I’ll feel safe choosing them. If they can withstand my emotional shifts, they must be significant."
Accept your desire for connection. Acknowledge that part of you longs to be held. It’s okay to care for someone, even if your feelings fluctuate in the beginning.
Connections are meant to be built—they take time. You can’t expect to instantly know someone, especially if their presence alone is your only reassurance of safety. Trust their actions. Trust your gut. You may crave a love so deep that no one else can recognize it, but the expectation of constant yearning only distances you from those already choosing you. If you question your feelings for someone, acknowledge the emotions, but also examine their roots.
Where is the hesitation coming from? Is it fear? Is it past abandonment? Is it because the person you once chose ended up choosing another? Is it because your mother never loved you the way you needed? Is it because your father withdrew when you needed him most? Is it because your emotional needs were never acknowledged? If so, recognize that those past wounds triggered a defense—a switch inside you that tells you to run before it’s too late.
Healing is not linear, and it won’t happen overnight. The first step is awareness—recognizing that part of you is still operating from fear.
You are not alone, and you are not broken. You can change. Your soul is asking to be seen. Grant yourself the grace and validation you seek; that is where healing begins.
