
What Monday Night Taught Me About Trying to Fix Pain
What Monday Night Taught Me About Trying to Fix Pain
By Sami Ward | Chaos to Calm | 25th May 2026
There are moments in our journey that stop us in our tracks.
Not the big dramatic ones you brace yourself for. The quiet ones. The ones you don't even find out about until two days later, sitting in a hotel room, phone in hand, heart in your throat.
What I Didn't Know Was Happening
Monday night, while I was at home packing for a work trip, she was struggling. Really struggling. Overwhelm had taken over, emotions were higher than she could manage, and I had absolutely no idea.
She wasn't with me. She was at her girlfriend's. And her girlfriend got her through it. Spoke to her mental health nurse on Tuesday. Stayed with her. Kept her safe.
She did cause herself some mild harm that night.
And I didn't know any of it until Wednesday. Already at my hotel. Already miles away.
The Call I Wasn't Expecting
When she rang me, I was barely through the hotel door.
And in the space of about thirty seconds, I felt guilt, frustration, and something harder to name, a kind of broken trust. Not because she struggled. Never that. But because we have worked really hard to get to a place where she tells me how she feels. Where communication is our thing. Where she doesn't carry it alone.
And she'd carried this one alone for two days.
It felt like a step backwards.
Not all the way back. But backwards enough for me to worry.
The Guilt of Going
Here's the thing nobody tells you about being a mum in this situation.
The guilt doesn't wait for something to actually go wrong. It's already packed in your bag before you've left the driveway.
Should I cancel? Should I stay? What if something happens while I'm gone? What if she needs me and I'm not there?
And when something happens, even when you couldn't have known, even when she was safe, even when other people stepped in, that guilt comes back louder.
It wants you to believe that you would have fixed it.
It wouldn't have!
But guilt doesn't really do logic, does it?
What Abandonment Actually Looks Like
Emotional dysregulation and abandonment fears are deeply connected. When someone struggles to regulate their emotions, any separation, even a planned one, can feel like being abandoned. Not just physically. Emotionally. Permanently.
It doesn't matter that you're coming back. It doesn't matter that you love them fiercely. In that moment, the nervous system overtakes. And the nervous system doesn't check the calendar.
So Monday night wasn't really about Monday night. It was about Wednesday. About knowing I was going, about a fear that got too big to sit with quietly.
She did not tell me until I was already gone. I think, in her own way, she was trying to protect me and make sure i still went.
What This Taught Me
I've spent a long time thinking I need to be the one to fix it. To be there. To say the right thing at the right moment and somehow stop the pain from landing.
Monday night reminded me that I can't always be that person. And more than that, I'm not supposed to be the only person.
Her girlfriend showed up positively. Her mental health nurse showed up. The support network we've quietly been building actually held her when I couldn't.
That's not failure. That's exactly what's supposed to happen.
The goal was never for her to only be okay when I'm in the room. The goal is for her to have enough people, enough tools, enough safety, that when the hard nights come, she's not completely alone with it.
We're not there yet. But we're closer than we were.
For the Mum Reading This Who's Been That Phone Call
You know the one. The call that comes when you're already somewhere else. Already committed. Already gone.
The one that makes you want to drop everything and drive home even though you know, logically, that everything is okay.
You're not a bad mum for going. You're not a bad mum for not knowing. You're not a bad mum for feeling frustrated alongside the fear.
All of that is love with nowhere to go.
The fact that you're reading this, thinking about this, trying to understand this, that says everything.
Your calm in the chaos,
Sami 💙⚓
Frequently Asked Questions
Why does my child struggle when I go away, even just overnight? For young adults with emotional dysregulation or BPD/EUPD, separation can trigger deep abandonment fears. Even a planned, temporary absence can feel permanent to a nervous system that's already overwhelmed. It's not about logic, it's about how unsafe their body feels in that moment.
Is it normal to feel guilty when your child struggles while you're away? Completely normal and incredibly common. Guilt is a natural response when you love someone and can't be there. But your presence doesn't prevent every crisis. Building a wider support network is what creates lasting safety for both of you.
What is abandonment fear in emotional dysregulation, BPD/EUPD? Abandonment fear is one of the core features of BPD/EUPD. Separation, even brief or planned, can feel emotionally tough, triggering distress that's very difficult to regulate alone. It's not attention seeking. It's a genuinely overwhelmed nervous system.
Can young adults with BPD/EUPD learn to manage separation better? Yes, with the right support, therapy, and tools, many young adults do develop a better capacity to manage separation over time. Progress isn't always straight forward, and setbacks happen. But they don't erase the progress that's already been made.
What should I do if my child struggles while I'm away? Having a support network in place before you go is key. That might include a trusted partner, friend, mental health professional, or crisis plan. You don't have to be the only safe person in their world, and building that wider safety net is one of the most loving things you can do.
