They shower you with love and empathy for one minute, leaving you feeling seen and cherished. The next, they erupt in a storm of childish rage, leaving you bewildered and terrified. This is the heartbreaking reality of growing up with a highly unstable parent.
Unlike parents with consistently harmful behaviors, these parents are, confusingly, intermittently capable of genuine warmth and affection. This makes their unpredictable descents into emotional turmoil even more perplexing and damaging. One moment, they might be your confidante, your safe harbor; the next, they could be the most destructive storm in your life. And just like dealing with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, you never know which you will get next.
While they may not have a formal diagnosis, their extreme emotional volatility often aligns with borderline personality disorder (BPD). This complex disorder is characterized by a pervasive pattern of instability in relationships, self-image, and emotions, often leading to impulsive actions and self-destructive behaviors.
Paradoxically, recent research suggests that individuals with BPD may have hyperactive mirror neurons — the neurological structures responsible for empathy and our ability to understand the emotions of others (Wang et al., 2021). This could explain the intense, almost “hyper-empathic” connection you might feel with them during their calmer moments.
A Double-Edged Sword
However, this heightened sensitivity is a double-edged sword. While it allows for a deep connection, it also gives them more “porous” emotional boundaries and makes them more susceptible to emotional contagion. Their ability to regulate their own emotions is compromised, leaving them vulnerable to sudden and extreme shifts in mood. This could be why a seemingly insignificant trigger can send them spiraling into a state of emotional dysregulation. When triggered, they revert into a child-like state, losing all capacity for cognitive empathy. Then, their ability for reason and perspective vanishes, replaced by an avalanche of self-centered demands and unpredictable outbursts.
The most tragic thing about your childhood is how much you have to edit yourself just to survive. As a child of a highly unstable parent, you quickly learn that everything is a potential trigger. You find yourself meticulously measuring every word, every action, censoring your genuine self in a desperate attempt to maintain a semblance of peace. If you behave just a little more “needy,” as a child naturally should, they may find it “too much” and punish you or emotionally withdraw. Thus, you learned to censor your genuine self, suppressing your needs and desires in a desperate attempt to maintain a semblance of peace in the family.
Scars That Linger
This constant emotional tightrope walk leaves deep scars that linger. Deprived of the freedom to explore, express, and simply be, you struggle to develop a strong sense of self. This can manifest in your adult life as difficulty setting boundaries, a tendency to prioritize others’ needs above your own, a placating stance in relationships and at work, and a fear of asserting your needs.
Perhaps the most insidious aspect of the dynamic with a highly unstable parent is the unpredictable glimpses of love from them — those fleeting moments of connection you feel so tempted to trust as real and substantial. Like a gambler chasing a win, you cling to the hope that “this time” will be different, that “this time” they’ll remain the loving parent you crave. This cycle of hope and disappointment can be incredibly difficult to break free from. It keeps you trapped in a painful dance of yearning and rejection, desperate pursuit of a love that always seems just out of reach. This pattern is known in psychology as repetition compulsion.
On a subconscious level, you might believe that if you can just “crack the code” of their unpredictable behavior and if you can just love them “enough” or be “good” enough, you can finally earn their consistent love and approval. This belief, often rooted in the magical thinking of childhood, keeps you tethered to the very dynamic that causes you pain, preventing you from fully grieving the parent you deserved but never had.
Adding another layer of complexity to this already painful dynamic, these parents often cope with conflict through withdrawal or dissociation. Instead of engaging in healthy “rupture and repair,” they disappear emotionally, retreating into stony silence, deflecting blame, or even threatening abandonment. These episodes of emotional absence leave you hanging, like a lost child, waiting for your parent to “come back.”
These repeated disappearances will affect your ability to develop “object constancy” — the fundamental understanding that loved ones continue to exist even when not physically present. This crucial developmental milestone allows children to feel secure and loved even when separated from their caregivers. However, when a parent consistently vanishes emotionally, it creates a terrifying sense that love itself is conditional and fleeting, that connection can be severed at any moment. This turns into crippling separation anxiety and fear of abandonment in your adult relationships. Trusting others, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, and believing in the enduring nature of love can feel impossible. Every minor conflict may trigger the fear of being abandoned, sending you spiraling into a vortex of insecurity and anxiety.
This primal fear, rooted in the inconsistent presence of your parent, can manifest in a variety of self-sabotaging behaviors that ironically mirror your deepest fears. For example, you might find yourself engaging in “push-pull” dynamics in your relationships, craving closeness one moment and then pushing your partner away the next. The terror of potential abandonment can also lead you to end relationships prematurely to avoid potential abandonment.
Healing
Healing from this type of childhood trauma is a courageous journey of self-discovery and transformation. It requires honestly acknowledging the reality of your experiences and no longer minimizing or dismissing the pain you endured.
Other people may only see the carefully curated version of your parent, the public persona designed to deflect scrutiny and maintain an image of normalcy. But their perceptions, however understandable, do not negate your reality. Your trauma is valid, even if it wasn’t always visible to the outside world.
The journey will not be easy, and it will require unwavering commitment and resilience. But healing is possible.
Through conscious effort, you can break free from the insidious cycle of intergenerational trauma.
Healing is not about forgetting the past; it is about reclaiming your narrative and embracing the possibility of a future defined by you.
