‍How Childhood Neglect Shapes a Lifetime of Emotional Dysregulation

‍How Childhood Neglect Shapes a Lifetime of Emotional Dysregulation

By Steve Elfrink

It’s a quiet ache that lives behind panic attacks, beneath waves of depression, inside explosions of rage that don’t quite make sense. It’s a question I’ve heard whispered in therapy rooms, sobbed into pillows, or asked with eyes wide open in the middle of a medicine journey. For so many of us, the symptoms we suffer from- free-floating anxiety, persistent shame, rage that feels disproportionate, grief with no clear origin aren’t signs of mental illness in the traditional sense. They are survival signals, still firing long after the original threat has passed.

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At the core of these emotional states lies a wound we rarely name directly: abandonment. Not simply the experience of being left alone, but something more invisible and insidious, the felt experience of being emotionally unfelt, of existing in the presence of caregivers yet feeling as though you do not exist at all.

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The Roots: Biology and Attachment

To understand the roots of abandonment, we must enter the world of the child. Not the chronological child, but the biological child, the one whose brain and body are wired to survive through attachment. For this child, primary caregivers are not just parents; they are also family members. They are gods. They define what is safe, what is real, and what is good. And when those gods are inconsistent, frightening, cold, distracted, or cruel, the child cannot fathom that the gods themselves might be the problem. Instead, the child comes to a conclusion that is both tragic and adaptive: If they cannot love me, it must be because I am unlovable. This core misbelief becomes the seed of shame, not as an emotion, but as an identity. It gives rise to the internal logic of trauma: I don’t matter. I shouldn’t have needs. Something about me is fundamentally wrong. These aren’t cognitive distortions to be corrected. They are somatic truths, encoded not in words but in the tissues, the breath, the posture, the autonomic nervous system.

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Human infants come into the world with an astonishing vulnerability and a brilliant survival strategy: they are biologically wired for co-regulation. The early nervous system depends on the caregiver’s presence, tone of voice, eye contact, touch, and responsiveness to form the neural scaffolding for emotion regulation. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory explains this through the lens of the social engagement system, a branch of the vagus nerve that allows us to connect, bond, and feel safe. When this system is activated through warm, attuned care, the child begins to feel that the world is safe and they are a real part of it. But when caregivers are unavailable, misattuned, or terrifying, this system is underdeveloped. In its place, the child’s nervous system may default to:

• Sympathetic activation: chronic anxiety, hypervigilance, startle responses
• Dorsal vagal shutdown: depression, numbness, disconnection
• Fight energy: rage as a last-ditch protest against invisibility
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These physiological states form the foundation of the adult’s emotional life. Not because something is wrong with them, but because something vital was missing.

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Structural Dissociation: The Fractured Self

Many survivors of trauma speak of having an abusive or frightening parent, but still longing for their love. This is not a contradiction. It is a biological necessity. Even when the parent is the source of pain, the child still needs them. This creates a double bind that becomes a structural fracture in the psyche. As Janina Fisher and others have shown, the child often splits into survival parts:

• One part blames the self: If I were better, they’d love me.
• Another justifies the parent: They didn’t mean it.
• A third buries the pain: I can’t feel this and survive.
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This process, known as structural dissociation, isn’t dissociation in the dramatic, Hollywood sense. It’s more subtle and more pervasive. It’s the inability to hold contradictory truths in one body: I was hurt by someone I loved. I needed someone who terrified me. I wasn’t seen, and I still wanted to be.
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The Internal Family Systems (IFS) model expands this further, describing how trauma fragments the psyche into “parts”: exiles (holding pain), managers (controlling to prevent pain), and firefighters (acting impulsively to distract from pain)^[1]. Trauma forces these parts into extreme roles, disrupting harmony and fragmenting the self. Dissociation, in this sense, is not just pathology but a spectrum of adaptive responses-sometimes creative, sometimes protective, sometimes deeply isolating.
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The Neurobiology of Dissociation and the Default Mode Network

Recent advances in neuroscience reveal how childhood neglect doesn’t just alter emotions, it reprograms the brain’s resting state. The default mode network (DMN), a web of regions active during self-referential thought, becomes a battlefield for those with abandonment wounds. In healthy development, the DMN helps us reflect on memories and plan the future. But in trauma-exposed individuals, this network gets hijacked by unresolved pasts:

• Past intrusions dominate: The DMN hyperactivates, flooding consciousness with fragmented memories of emotional absence.
• Threat detection goes rogue: The salience network interprets relationship tensions as existential threats.
• Self becomes enemy: Altered connectivity blurs the line between past betrayals and present interactions.
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This explains why a partner’s distracted glance can feel like annihilation, and the DMN replays childhood scenes of emotional abandonment while the body reacts as if it’s happening now.
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The trauma theory of structural dissociation further suggests that severe or early-life trauma activates deeply ingrained emotional and functional systems, creating a split between the “apparently normal” personality (ANP) and the “emotional” personality (EP)^[1]. These divisions can persist and complicate adult functioning, especially when trauma remains unintegrated.
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The HPA Axis and the Body’s Relentless Vigilance

The hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis tells the story of neglect in cortisol rhythms. When trauma first strikes during infancy, precisely when the HPA axis should become a socially regulated system, it gets stuck in hyperdrive. Adults with early neglect show:

• Delayed cortisol recovery: Stress hormones keep surging long after threats pass, mirroring the child’s endless wait for comforting.
• Evening cortisol spikes: Instead of the healthy diurnal drop, levels rise at night, the body keeping vigil for dangers that once came in parental silence.
• Oxytocin depletion: The “bonding hormone” diminishes, leaving survivors craving connection but distrusting its safety.
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These biomarkers reveal a brutal truth: Emotional neglect isn’t an abstract “issue.” It’s a physiological state where the body remains perpetually braced for abandonment.
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Triggers: The Messenger and the Message

When we are emotionally triggered, especially in close relationships, what often erupts is not simply a response to the present moment, but a resurfacing of unresolved emotional charges from childhood. These triggers are not random; they are messengers, carrying echoes of early abandonment, neglect, or unmet needs. As Michael Brown explains in The Presence Process, “messengers are people or situations that trigger emotional responses, reflecting unintegrated emotional states.”
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Reaction vs. Response

• Reaction is an unconscious, automatic behavior. It is driven by the emotional imprints and protective patterns formed in early life. When we react, we are often defending against an old wound rather than responding to the reality of the current situation.
• Response is a conscious, intentional choice. It arises when we pause, become aware of our internal state, and choose how to engage with the present moment, rather than being hijacked by the past.

> “A reaction is unconscious behavior as a result of physical, mental, and emotional reflections & projections from our unintegrated emotional past. A response is a conscious choice to distance ourselves from engaging with the ‘messengers’ and instead redirect our focus toward accessing ‘the messages’ they bring.”
> - Michael Brown, The Presence Process
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The Three-Step Process: Working with Triggers

1. Dismiss the Messenger
   Recognize that the person or event triggering you is not the true cause of your distress- they are simply the messenger. The real source is an old emotional imprint seeking integration.
2. Get the Message
   Shift your attention inward. Instead of focusing on the story or external event, tune into the felt sense of your emotional reaction. Ask: “How does this trigger me? When did I last feel this?” This helps you identify the underlying wound.
3. Feel Unconditionally
   Allow yourself to fully feel the emotional charge without judgment or the urge to project, blame, or escape. This unconditional presence is what allows old wounds to integrate and heal.
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Dissociation: The Protective and Perilous Divide

Dissociation is a central feature of complex PTSD (cPTSD), manifesting as both psychoform (flashbacks, derealization) and somatoform (numbness, motor impairments) symptoms^[1]. It acts as both a protective adaptation and a barrier to integration, perpetuating unresolved trauma that continues to impair functioning. Research shows that early and cumulative trauma, particularly from caregivers, predicts elevated dissociation levels and later development of dissociative disorders^[1]. Disorganized or avoidant attachment patterns in childhood, especially when combined with severe or chronic abuse, set the stage for this structural split.

In more complex cases, secondary and tertiary structural dissociation can occur, resulting in further fragmentation of the self into distinct parts that serve separate defensive roles. This fragmentation is influenced by the severity, chronicity, and intensity of trauma; the developmental age at onset; the nature of the relationship with the perpetrator(s); and the availability of social support^[1].
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Psychedelic Work, Trauma, and Dissociation

Psychedelic experiences can amplify access to dissociated traumatic material, increasing the risk of destabilization in vulnerable individuals. Psychedelics act as “unspecific amplifiers” of mental processes, sometimes bringing unresolved trauma into conscious awareness in ways that can be profoundly disruptive^[1]. For those with a history of abandonment or dissociation, this can lead to emotional overwhelm, flashbacks, derealization, or a sense of self-disintegration. However, when guided by trauma-informed support, these same processes present an opportunity for integration and healing.
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Healing the Unseen: A Nervous System Approach

Reclaiming the DMN and Integrating Parts

Emerging therapies target DMN dysfunction explicitly:

• Psychedelic-assisted work: When trauma-informed, can help integrate dissociated parts.
• Neurofeedback: Training survivors to reduce DMN hyperactivation during rest.
• Co-regulation practices: Shared breathing and attuned presence rebuild the capacity for connection.
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HPA Axis Rehabilitation

Daily rhythms become medicine:

• Morning sunlight exposure: Resets cortisol rhythms disrupted by childhood vigilance.
• Vagal toning: Humming/singing stimulates the social engagement system, countering HPA hyperactivation.
• Oxytocin microdosing: Shows promise in restoring trust biology.
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Integration and Personification

Healing requires not just remembering but personifying, relating traumatic experiences to one’s self-identity, and integrating them into a coherent life narrative. This allows the trauma to be processed as part of one’s story, rather than remaining a fragmented, unprocessed memory^[1].
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The Paradox of Healing

To mend abandonment wounds, we must first honor their neurobiological reality. The adult who panics at perceived rejection isn’t “overreacting” - they're obeying neural pathways forged in years of emotional deprivation. As we update these pathways through relational safety and somatic awareness, something miraculous occurs: The DMN stops replaying abandonment and starts rehearsing connection. The HPA axis learns that rest is possible. The body discovers, perhaps for the first time, that love can feel safe.
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This isn’t positivity. It’s neuroplasticity, the slow rewiring of a brain once convinced it deserved to starve. Every time we meet a trigger with curiosity instead of condemnation, we light new neural pathways. And in those sparks glows the truth: What was once survival is becoming sanctuary.

> “The child who wasn’t met still lives in you, but so does the adult who can finally meet them.”
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Affirmations for Healing Abandonment and Childhood Neglect

• I am worthy of love, even when I feel wounded or uncertain.
• My pain is not a sign of failure- it is proof of my strength and survival.
• It is safe for me to need, to feel, and to ask for comfort.
• The abandonment I experienced was never my fault.
• I can learn to stay present with myself, especially when I feel afraid.
• As an adult, I am now safe and can protect and care for myself.
• My inner child is never alone when I choose to stay connected and nurturing.
• I deserve relationships where I am seen, valued, and safe.
• I honor the grief for what I didn’t receive, and I am learning to give myself the love and care I need now.
• I trust my body’s wisdom to guide my healing, at the pace that is right for me.
• Each time I show up for myself, I rewrite my story with love and a sense of belonging.
• The love I seek is already within me, ready to be nurtured and expressed.
• I have within me everything I need to heal: my body, my love, and my inner wisdom.
• I am learning to trust myself and my feelings, one day at a time.
• I trust myself to recognize and take care of what matters to me.
• I am gentle with myself as I heal old wounds.
• I can create new, nurturing experiences for myself, starting now.
• My past does not define my future; I am free to choose new ways of being.
• I celebrate the small steps I take toward healing and self-acceptance.
• With every breath, I invite more compassion and kindness into my life.
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References

• Schore, A. (2012). The Science of the Art of Psychotherapy. Norton.
• Van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score. Penguin.
• Porges, S. (2011). The Polyvagal Theory. Norton.
• Fisher, J. (2017). Healing the Fragmented Selves of Trauma Survivors. Routledge.
• Levine, P. (2010). In an Unspoken Voice. North Atlantic Books.
• Schwartz, R. (2021). No Bad Parts. Sounds True.
• [Frontiers in Psychology, 2025]^{[1]
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