Why You Go From Fine to Furious in Seconds
There’s no in-between for you.
Other people seem to have a dial. Mildly annoyed, then more annoyed, then properly cross – a slope they can feel themselves climbing, with time to catch it. You don’t have the slope. You have a switch. One second you’re genuinely fine, and the next you’re all the way up, heart going, jaw tight, saying things at a volume that surprises even you.
And afterwards you can’t even reconstruct it. How did I get from there to here that fast? It’s like you skipped the whole middle.
So let me tell you what I’ve learned, because for a long time I thought this made me unstable, and it doesn’t. You’re not skipping the middle. There is no middle to skip, because you weren’t at zero to begin with.
Here’s what I mean. That “fine” you were in a second ago wasn’t calm. It looked calm from the outside, and it might even have felt calm to you, because it’s your normal. But underneath, your body was already running high – already braced, already carrying a load of tension you’ve stopped noticing because it never switches off. So you weren’t at zero. You were sitting at eighty, quietly, all the time. Which means the smallest thing only has to nudge you the last little way, and you’re at a hundred before there’s any slope to climb.
That’s the whole trick of it. The jump looks enormous because you can’t feel the eighty you were already at. All you feel is the last twenty, arriving fast.
And it arrives fast because that kind of surge doesn’t come from your thinking. It fires from somewhere quicker and lower than thought – the part of you that reacts before it checks with you. By the time the reasonable part of you shows up, the surge has already happened. You didn’t decide to go to a hundred. It went, and took you with it.
Which is exactly why “count to ten” was never going to save you.
You can’t count during something that’s already over before you start. The tools aimed at your thinking mind all assume you’ve got a few seconds and a slope to work with. You don’t. So it’s not that you failed at staying calm. You were handed the wrong tool for the speed you’re actually dealing with.
What actually helps is two things, and neither is trying harder in the moment.
The first is dropping the baseline. If you spend real time calming your body regularly – not just in a crisis, but as a habit – that permanent eighty starts to come down. And when you’re genuinely sitting lower, the small stuff has a lot further to travel before it reaches a hundred. Most of it never gets there. The switch stops being so close to your hand.
The second is learning what the very first flicker of the surge feels like in your body – the earliest catch, before it’s loud. When you practise feeling it early, you slowly grow back the middle that was missing. Not a long slope, at first. Just a beat. But a beat is enough to breathe instead of blow, and the beat gets longer with practice.
I used to go off like a switch and hate that I couldn’t see it coming. What changed it wasn’t more self-control in the moment. It was carrying less underneath, and learning to feel the surge in time to do something other than ride it.
Feel it, don’t just read about it
Come to a free live session and feel the difference for yourself — or join The Way Home and make it a weekly practice for less than a takeaway a month.
You’re not unstable. You’re running high without knowing it – and once that comes down, the middle comes back.
