Proximity to Chaos: How Other People’s Storms Hijack Your Nervous System

©️ Sophie Lewis|Shadowborn
Nobody talks about this enough.
How simply being near certain people can wreck you.
Not because they’re bad.
Not because they mean harm.
But because their inner world is a war zone.
And when you sit in it long enough, your body starts fighting battles that were never yours.
Your nervous system doesn’t know the difference between witnessing chaos and living in it.
It just knows: threat detected.
And it responds accordingly.
Chaos is Contagious
Some people live in permanent crisis mode.
There’s always…
- Drama brewing
- Conflict erupting
- Emergencies demanding immediate attention
- Emotional explosions with no warning
- Someone to blame, someone to hate, someone to fix
- A story that keeps changing depending on who’s listening
They don’t rest in peace.
They fear it.
Because silence means they have to feel what they’ve been running from.
So they create noise.
Constant, chaotic, consuming noise.
And when you’re around them?
Your nervous system registers it before your mind even knows what’s happening.
Suddenly you’re…
- Rense for no reason you can name
- Scanning for danger that isn’t yours
- Exhausted after a simple conversation
- Replaying their stories in your head for hours
- Feeling emotionally responsible for problems you didn’t create
- Carrying weight that doesn’t belong to you
That’s not empathy.
That’s not compassion.
That’s not being a good friend.
That’s absorption.
Your system is soaking up their dysregulation like a sponge.
Your Body Knows Before Your Mind Does
You don’t need to wait for red flags.
Your body gives them to you in real time…
- Chest tightens the moment they walk in the room
- Breath becomes shallow and high in your chest
- Jaw clenches without you realising
- Headache that appears mid conversation and lingers for hours
- Sudden wave of fatigue that wasn’t there five minutes ago
- Irritability that seems to come from nowhere
- Skin crawling that “I need to leave right now” feeling
- Stomach dropping, nausea, physical recoil
That’s your nervous system screaming!
This environment is unsafe.
This person’s chaos is infiltrating your field.
Get out. Now.
Even if nothing overtly “bad” is happening.
Even if they’re being “nice.”
Even if everyone else seems fine with them.
Chaos doesn’t have to be loud to be toxic.
Sometimes it’s just constant.
A low grade hum of instability that never stops.
And your body gets exhausted from bracing against it.
The Trauma Echo: Why Chaos Feels Like Home
Here’s the part that makes it complicated:
If you grew up in chaos, you learnt to survive it.
You became fluent in…
- Reading micro expressions to predict mood swings
- Mediating conflict between adults who should have been protecting you
- Staying hypervigilant to prevent explosions
- Regulating other people’s emotions because nobody regulated yours
- Abandoning your own needs to keep the peace
- Performing stability when everything inside you was screaming
So now, as an adult, chaotic people feel familiar.
Your nervous system says…
Ah. I know this dance.
I know how to move here.
This is what connection looks like.
Not because it’s healthy.
Not because it serves you.
But because it’s known.
The pattern is so deeply wired that calm, stable people can feel…
- Boring
- Suspicious
- Too good to be true
- Like they’re hiding something
- Like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop
So you gravitate toward the storms!
You listen when they unload.
You soothe when they spiral.
You take on their crises like they’re your responsibility.
You become the emotional landfill.
And you wonder why you’re constantly exhausted.
You wonder why your own healing keeps stalling.
You wonder why you can’t seem to find peace.
It’s because you’re spending all your energy managing someone else’s inner war.
You Are Not a Dumping Ground
Read that again!
Write it on your mirror if you need to.
You are not!
A therapist they don’t have to pay.
A crisis line that never closes.
A mediator for their drama.
An emotional sponge.
A bin for other people’s unprocessed trauma!
Being compassionate does not mean absorbing everything.
Being kind does not mean carrying their chaos.
Being empathetic does not mean sacrificing your nervous system regulation.
Some people don’t want healing.
They want an audience.
They want validation for staying exactly where they are.
They want someone to witness their suffering without ever having to change it.
And if you stay too close?
They’ll pull you into the storm.
Not intentionally.
They might genuinely care about you.
But inevitably.
Because misery doesn’t just love company.
It demands it.
The Nervous System Cost Nobody Sees
This is the part that doesn’t show up on the surface.
You look fine.
You’re functioning.
You show up to work, answer texts, maintain relationships.
But underneath?
Prolonged exposure to chaos…
Dysregulates your sleep, you’re tired but wired, exhausted but can’t rest, it
wrecks your digestion, stomach problems, appetite changes, nausea
spikes cortisol levels, constant low grade stress response,
keeps you in hypervigilance mode, always scanning, never settling
numbs your capacity for joy, good things feel muted, flat
steals your peace, you can’t remember the last time you felt calm
locks you in survival mode, no bandwidth for creativity, growth or healing
You think you’re “just tired.”
You think you need more self care.
You think something’s wrong with you.
But you’re not broken.
You’re overloaded.
Your nervous system hasn’t felt genuinely safe in so long that it’s forgotten what regulation feels like.
And the person creating the chaos?
They’re usually fine.
They’ve externalised their inner turmoil onto you, and now they feel lighter whilst you’re carrying the weight.
That’s not connection.
That’s energy vampirism.
The Shadowborn Truth About Chaos Addiction
Here’s what nobody wants to hear…
Peace feels boring when you’ve been raised on chaos.
Silence feels wrong.
Stability feels suspicious.
Calm feels like the quiet before the storm.
So you unconsciously orbit people who recreate the environment you grew up in.
Not because you want pain.
Not because you’re self destructive.
But because your nervous system has been conditioned to equate chaos with connection.
It thinks this is what intimacy looks like.
The intensity.
The drama.
The constant crisis.
The emotional rollercoaster.
Your body mistakes adrenaline for aliveness.
But Shadowborn work isn’t about repeating patterns.
It’s about recognising them.
Breaking them.
Choosing differently even when it feels uncomfortable.
It’s about learning that:
Calm is not the absence of feeling, it’s the presence of regulation.
Stability is not boring, it’s the foundation for genuine growth.
Peace is not a luxury, it’s your birthright.
The Boundary Nobody Teaches You
Here it is, plain and simple:
You are allowed to step away from people who live in constant turmoil.
Even if…
They’re genuinely struggling.
They’re going through a hard time.
They’ve been through trauma.
They’re lonely and you’re one of their few friends.
You feel guilty for having boundaries.
You understand why they are the way they are.
Everyone else tolerates them so you should too.
Listen carefully!
Understanding why someone is chaotic does not obligate you to absorb their chaos.
Compassion does not require proximity.
You can care about someone from a distance.
You can wish them well without being their emotional support system.
You can have empathy without sacrificing your nervous system regulation.
Your peace is not selfish.
It’s survival.
The Reclaiming: Coming Back to Yourself
If your nervous system is fried from proximity to chaos, you need to actively reclaim your regulation.
This isn’t optional.
This is essential.
Try this:
Step 1: Physical Separation
Turn your phone off for an hour.
Leave the space they occupy.
Literally walk away if you’re with them, block or mute if they’re online.
Step 2: Nervous System Reset
Find somewhere quiet.
Sit or lie down.
Breathe four counts in, hold for four, exhale for six.
Repeat until your shoulders drop.
Step 3: Body Scan
Notice where you’re holding tension.
Consciously release it, jaw, shoulders, stomach, hands.
Feel your body in the chair, on the floor, in this moment.
You’re here. You’re safe. Their chaos is not yours.
Step 4: Energetic Boundary
Place one hand on your heart, one on your belly.
Say out loud or internally:
I release what is not mine.
I return their chaos to them.
I reclaim my energy, my peace, my regulation.
I choose calm over crisis.
I choose myself.
Breathe it in.
Let it settle.
Your body will thank you.
The Truth About Who Deserves Access to You
Not everyone deserves access to your nervous system.
Some people bring storms wherever they go.
Some people bring shelter.
Watch how you feel after being with them:
Drained or energised
Chaotic or centred
Anxious or calm
Smaller or more yourself
That tells you everything.
Your nervous system is giving you data.
Trust it.
Because here’s the truth that nobody wants to admit…
Some people will never change.
They’re invested in their chaos.
It gives them identity, control, attention, stimulation.
And if you wait for them to become peaceful before you protect yourself?
You’ll be waiting forever.
Whilst your own healing stalls.
Whilst your peace erodes.
Whilst your nervous system stays stuck in survival mode.
You can love someone and still choose distance.
You can care about someone and still protect your energy.
You can wish them well and still say:
Not in my space. Not anymore.
Your peace is sacred.
It’s not a luxury.
It’s not selfish.
It’s not something you earn after you’ve helped everyone else.
It’s your foundation.
Without it, you have nothing to give.
Not to others.
Not to yourself.
Not to your healing.
Proximity to chaos will cost you more than you realise until you’ve stepped away.
And then one day, in the quiet, you’ll notice:
Your shoulders aren’t up by your ears anymore.
Your stomach isn’t in knots.
Your sleep is deeper.
Your joy feels accessible again.
And you’ll realise:
This is what safety feels like.
This is what peace feels like.
This is what it means to choose yourself.
That’s Shadowborn.
Not tolerating chaos because you’re “strong enough to handle it.”
But recognising it for what it is, a threat to your nervous system, and choosing to protect your peace like your life depends on it.
Because honestly?
It does.