Emotional Hunger

Hey everyone! I’ve been sitting here realizing there’s this one thing that’s absolutely eating me alive: this constant, starving hunger for love.
There was a time when I felt it way more intensely, like it was crushing me.
I honestly had no clue where it was coming from or why I felt so empty, but I’m finally starting to untangle the mess and see things for what they really are.
Look, let’s be real—the root cause is my parents.
It’s the classic American dysfunctional family setup: an emasculating father and a mother who was weak and totally immature. They were so wrapped up in their own toxic dynamic that, weirdly enough, they actually got jealous whenever any attention was directed toward me or my brother.
If my mom tried to show me even a shred of affection, my dad would get bitter about it. He wanted all her focus for himself. And vice versa. It was a total tug-of-war.
Every single bad relationship choice I’ve made since then stems directly from that internal conflict that’s been baked into my psyche since birth.
This massive craving for validation drove me straight into the arms of people who either couldn't give it to me or people I ended up sabotaging myself.
I’ve calmed down a bit lately, but don't get it twisted—I've just suppressed it.
This insatiable hunger for love manifests as this constant, nagging anxiety that my partner doesn't love me enough, and it swallows me whole whenever I hit a low point!
And it always, *always* circles back to that same old insecurity rooted in my childhood home.
The latest meltdown happened just recently. I went to visit my family, and my dad barely even looked at me. He just completely ignored my presence.
I haven't done anything to him; I'm living my life, working, and visiting them when I can. But the man acts like I don't even exist.
In an instant, he triggered that nasty, gut-wrenching, uncomfortable feeling that haunted my entire childhood and followed me into adulthood.
I seriously thought I was "healed," but clearly, the wounds are still wide open.
After episodes like that, I start demanding way too much from my partner. I get hyper-sensitive, constantly hunting for proof that they care, and then—paradoxically—instead of getting more love, they pull away.
It’s like they can sense my dysfunction, while all I want is for them to feed me with emotions and constant reassurance.
But that’s not how the world works, so the hunger just grows, and suddenly I’m acting "crazy."

HOW DO I SATISFY THIS HUNGER WITHOUT RELYING ON OTHER PEOPLE? How do I feed my own soul without this pathological desperation?
How do I stop being a bottomless pit?

You simply cannot satisfy that specific hunger because that sensation isn't healthy. To move forward, you first have to "resolve" things with your childhood home. You need to come to terms with the reality that you didn't have any say in the matter. None of us have a choice when it comes to who our parents are.
What you can actually do is accept things exactly as they are and learn how to carry that weight.
The craving for affection you're feeling isn't a sustainable way to live. As a starting point for healing, it is vital that you acknowledge the issue exists rather than trying to deny it.

brighteagle39 said:You simply cannot satisfy that specific hunger because that sensation isn't healthy. To move forward, you first have to "resolve" things with your childhood home. You need to come to terms with the reality that you didn't have any say in the matter. None of us have a choice when it comes to who our parents are.
What you can actually do is accept things exactly as they are and learn how to carry that weight.
The craving for affection you're feeling isn't a sustainable way to live. As a starting point for healing, it is vital that you acknowledge the issue exists rather than trying to deny it.

Thanks for chiming in. I finally feel like I can put a name to this mess and see how it ties back to my parents.
I know this constant hunger isn't healthy because it drives everything I do.
At the end of the day, it's this exact void that keeps people trapped in garbage relationships, totally paralyzed and stuck in these weird, suffocating cycles.
I've been to therapy and brought this up with my therapist a dozen times, but honestly? It felt like he couldn't find an answer that actually hit the mark.

Is there anything anyone can actually do about this?
How do I help myself?

Please, if anyone else has some actual solid advice or has dealt with this, let me know.

The less you obsess over how your parents treated you, the better—because, at the end of the day, you can't change the past. You just have to turn a new leaf and move forward... 😳 😵

I was exactly the same way until I graduated high school. Honestly, when both parents are working full-time, most kids don't really get that chance to bond deeply; instead, you end up being raised by grandparents. It sounds like your father probably grew up in a household where affection wasn't exactly expressed, and in an attempt to compensate for what he missed out on, he ended up projecting that jealousy toward you kids. He was likely just searching for someone to love him and show him the warmth he never had, which is perfectly logical... after all, it's a basic human need. 🙂 😉

Ronald Jones said:The less you obsess over how your parents treated you, the better—because, at the end of the day, you can't change the past. You just have to turn a new leaf and move forward... 😳 😵

I was exactly the same way until I graduated high school. Honestly, when both parents are working full-time, most kids don't really get that chance to bond deeply; instead, you end up being raised by grandparents. It sounds like your father probably grew up in a household where affection wasn't exactly expressed, and in an attempt to compensate for what he missed out on, he ended up projecting that jealousy toward you kids. He was likely just searching for someone to love him and show him the warmth he never had, which is perfectly logical... after all, it's a basic human need. 🙂 😉

I get the whole thing about parents. I totally get that my dad needs love too. I can wrap my head around that. But the problem isn't him. The problem is this massive, gaping hole inside of me that nothing seems to be able to fill emotionally.

There are times when I just lose it. I get suspicious, demanding, and insanely jealous with my partner. I end up sabotaging my own shot at exactly what I want: a relationship full of actual love. I become my own worst enemy by chasing after what I feel like I'm owed and trying to force it to happen.
Everyone wants love, sure, but why does it have to be this freaking hard?
Some days I feel strong and steady, but then some random trigger hits and my whole system just collapses.
Then I start clawing for more love, begging for more proof that my partner cares, and of course, that's exactly when they pull away.
I need to break this cycle because it's draining the life out of me and keeping me stuck.
Emotions carry this terrifying amount of energy, but my therapist seems totally hesitant to actually dive into it with me.

Ryan Kelly2 said:I get the whole thing about parents. I totally get that my dad needs love too. I can wrap my head around that. But the problem isn't him. The problem is this massive, gaping hole inside of me that nothing seems to be able to fill emotionally.

There are times when I just lose it. I get suspicious, demanding, and insanely jealous with my partner. I end up sabotaging my own shot at exactly what I want: a relationship full of actual love. I become my own worst enemy by chasing after what I feel like I'm owed and trying to force it to happen.
Everyone wants love, sure, but why does it have to be this freaking hard?
Some days I feel strong and steady, but then some random trigger hits and my whole system just collapses.
Then I start clawing for more love, begging for more proof that my partner cares, and of course, that's exactly when they pull away.
I need to break this cycle because it's draining the life out of me and keeping me stuck.
Emotions carry this terrifying amount of energy, but my therapist seems totally hesitant to actually dive into it with me.

Yes, it is simply that difficult. It is just... obviously, it has to be this way. I mean, how many times have people on this forum written about having a family, friends, or a partner, yet they still feel completely emotionally hollow? Like, despite all that, it feels as though none of it actually exists... 😳 😵

It is commendable that you intend to make these changes. However, one must consider why you expect someone else to fill that void within you... You must cultivate that sense of self-worth personally; you have to truly love yourself before anyone else can possibly do the same. This process begins internally. It is a matter of taking things one step at a time. For instance, simply reducing those constant doubts regarding your partner might be a starting point. Perhaps try agreeing when he wants to head out with his friends—allow him that space a few times so he can actually see that you trust him. It should be clear to you that if this behavior persists, you will only drive him away. No one enjoys feeling suffocated... 😵 😵

Tell me, have you perhaps heard any rumors that your boyfriend was unfaithful to his ex? If you haven't, there really is no reason to panic... 🙂 😉

He didn't cheat on his ex. 🙂
Look, you're totally right—I need to get my act together, chill out, and stop being so suffocating.

How do you actually learn to love yourself and feel fulfilled? Man, I've been obsessing over that for years. I'm constantly grinding away at it, trying to figure it out, but I still haven't cracked the code.
And honestly? I see people who have everything they ever wanted, yet they’re still miserable inside. I don't know, my brain is just mush this morning. Suddenly, I'm seeing a hundred mistakes I make—stuff I'm not even doing on purpose, but I keep tripping over the same damn hurdles.

Ryan Kelly2 said:Hey everyone! I’ve been sitting here realizing there’s this one thing that’s absolutely eating me alive: this constant, starving hunger for love.
There was a time when I felt it way more intensely, like it was crushing me.
I honestly had no clue where it was coming from or why I felt so empty, but I’m finally starting to untangle the mess and see things for what they really are.
Look, let’s be real—the root cause is my parents.
It’s the classic American dysfunctional family setup: an emasculating father and a mother who was weak and totally immature. They were so wrapped up in their own toxic dynamic that, weirdly enough, they actually got jealous whenever any attention was directed toward me or my brother.
If my mom tried to show me even a shred of affection, my dad would get bitter about it. He wanted all her focus for himself. And vice versa. It was a total tug-of-war.
Every single bad relationship choice I’ve made since then stems directly from that internal conflict that’s been baked into my psyche since birth.
This massive craving for validation drove me straight into the arms of people who either couldn't give it to me or people I ended up sabotaging myself.
I’ve calmed down a bit lately, but don't get it twisted—I've just suppressed it.
This insatiable hunger for love manifests as this constant, nagging anxiety that my partner doesn't love me enough, and it swallows me whole whenever I hit a low point!
And it always, *always* circles back to that same old insecurity rooted in my childhood home.
The latest meltdown happened just recently. I went to visit my family, and my dad barely even looked at me. He just completely ignored my presence.
I haven't done anything to him; I'm living my life, working, and visiting them when I can. But the man acts like I don't even exist.
In an instant, he triggered that nasty, gut-wrenching, uncomfortable feeling that haunted my entire childhood and followed me into adulthood.
I seriously thought I was "healed," but clearly, the wounds are still wide open.
After episodes like that, I start demanding way too much from my partner. I get hyper-sensitive, constantly hunting for proof that they care, and then—paradoxically—instead of getting more love, they pull away.
It’s like they can sense my dysfunction, while all I want is for them to feed me with emotions and constant reassurance.
But that’s not how the world works, so the hunger just grows, and suddenly I’m acting "crazy."

HOW DO I SATISFY THIS HUNGER WITHOUT RELYING ON OTHER PEOPLE? How do I feed my own soul without this pathological desperation?
How do I stop being a bottomless pit?

Look, if you actually need love, you have to ask for it humbly. You’ll get it from your partner without having to throw a tantrum.

The issue is that you’ve convinced yourself you don't need love just to protect your ego—to avoid feeling like a victim or appearing weak. So now, when you actually *do* need it, you demand it like a right. Because you’ve spent your whole life rejecting the "victim" label, you feel like if you aren't the victim, you must be the aggressor. And when you demand love that way, it immediately irritates your partner because they aren't your puppet. Honestly, even if they play along with your drama, it won't work; you won't stop until you break, because you're trying to fill a void using a broken method that will never satisfy the actual need. You want to feel cared for because someone genuinely wants to, not because you've coerced them into it. You have to be vulnerable enough to show that you actually need it.

The problem is you act all proud and pretend you don't care, even though deep down, you're starving.

I said the exact same thing to my wife once I finally saw through the pattern. She’d come home, maybe frustrated about something, and start dancing around the issue or acting passive-aggressive, and I’d find myself walking on eggshells just to prevent her from blowing up and claiming I don't love her. In reality, she should just come over, sit in my lap, and admit she needs some affection because she's having a hard time. But she can't do that. She doesn't even realize she's doing it, because she can't admit she's struggling without triggering that ego-driven need to stay "strong."
It’s only after the whole cycle plays out—the tension, the drama, the fighting, the meltdown, and the crying—that she realizes what actually needed to happen. It takes a few hours of chaos, and it usually ends exactly how I think it should: with a little bit of honest, humble seeking of affection in her partner's arms.

You’ve got to learn how to read the room earlier next time and just skip all the unnecessary drama to get straight to the actual point. It’s like when your dad was supposed to step up and do something for you, but he didn't, and now you're mentally stuck, feeling like nobody else is ever going to follow through the way he should have. If you don't explicitly signal that you need something, you can't really be shocked when people fail to notice, yet you've somehow trained yourself to stay silent. The end result is this weird loop where you don't actually feel the need for anything, but deep down, there's still this constant, driving compulsion to seek out validation—which ends up sabotaging you every single time because you're basically trying to manufacture love by demanding it.

Look, you’ve gotta start by being brutally honest—with yourself first, then with your partner. Lay it all out there: the fears, the intrusive thoughts, the messy emotions. But here’s the catch—don't go in swinging. Pick your words carefully so you aren't just lighting a fuse for a massive blowout or hurting them in the process. Try explaining that this insecurity isn't some random glitch; it actually stems from how things went down with your parents back in the day.

When someone is constantly starving for affection or begging for validation from everyone around them, it’s usually because they aren't actually okay with who they are. It’s a void, plain and simple. So, do yourself a favor: grab a notebook and write down every single win, every strength, and every compliment you’ve ever received. Our brains are wired to be jerks—we tend to gloss over our successes like they never happened. Getting it down on paper is a solid way to start actually seeing yourself clearly.

Anyway, I’m running a bit behind schedule right now, so I just shot you a quick DM with some more specific pointers. But hey, if you want to dive deeper into this, just give me a shout and we can really hash it out.

Ryan Kelly2 said:Thanks for chiming in. I finally feel like I can put a name to this mess and see how it ties back to my parents.
I know this constant hunger isn't healthy because it drives everything I do.
At the end of the day, it's this exact void that keeps people trapped in garbage relationships, totally paralyzed and stuck in these weird, suffocating cycles.
I've been to therapy and brought this up with my therapist a dozen times, but honestly? It felt like he couldn't find an answer that actually hit the mark.

Is there anything anyone can actually do about this?
How do I help myself?

Please, if anyone else has some actual solid advice or has dealt with this, let me know.

I’d personally suggest looking into autogenic training and its underlying theory. It really helped me through similar struggles; it might just give you the clarity you need...

hiddeneagle98 said:Look, if you actually need love, you have to ask for it humbly. You’ll get it from your partner without having to throw a tantrum.

The issue is that you’ve convinced yourself you don't need love just to protect your ego—to avoid feeling like a victim or appearing weak. So now, when you actually *do* need it, you demand it like a right. Because you’ve spent your whole life rejecting the "victim" label, you feel like if you aren't the victim, you must be the aggressor. And when you demand love that way, it immediately irritates your partner because they aren't your puppet. Honestly, even if they play along with your drama, it won't work; you won't stop until you break, because you're trying to fill a void using a broken method that will never satisfy the actual need. You want to feel cared for because someone genuinely wants to, not because you've coerced them into it. You have to be vulnerable enough to show that you actually need it.

The problem is you act all proud and pretend you don't care, even though deep down, you're starving.

I said the exact same thing to my wife once I finally saw through the pattern. She’d come home, maybe frustrated about something, and start dancing around the issue or acting passive-aggressive, and I’d find myself walking on eggshells just to prevent her from blowing up and claiming I don't love her. In reality, she should just come over, sit in my lap, and admit she needs some affection because she's having a hard time. But she can't do that. She doesn't even realize she's doing it, because she can't admit she's struggling without triggering that ego-driven need to stay "strong."
It’s only after the whole cycle plays out—the tension, the drama, the fighting, the meltdown, and the crying—that she realizes what actually needed to happen. It takes a few hours of chaos, and it usually ends exactly how I think it should: with a little bit of honest, humble seeking of affection in her partner's arms.

You’ve got to learn how to read the room earlier next time and just skip all the unnecessary drama to get straight to the actual point. It’s like when your dad was supposed to step up and do something for you, but he didn't, and now you're mentally stuck, feeling like nobody else is ever going to follow through the way he should have. If you don't explicitly signal that you need something, you can't really be shocked when people fail to notice, yet you've somehow trained yourself to stay silent. The end result is this weird loop where you don't actually feel the need for anything, but deep down, there's still this constant, driving compulsion to seek out validation—which ends up sabotaging you every single time because you're basically trying to manufacture love by demanding it.

I quoted parts of what you said, but honestly, everything you wrote is spot on.
I actually tried asking for love this way once, and it worked. I got that comforting kind of love, my partner was genuinely sweet, and we were both happy.
But here’s my deal: on a logical level, I know exactly how I should act. And if I'm feeling composed and rational enough to be spontaneous and affectionate (total paradox, I know, but whatever), then everything is great. But man... there are days when everything hits me at once: hormones, a massive trigger from my parents, old buried emotions resurfacing... and I just react in this totally starved, desperate way.
I find myself wanting my partner to basically replace my parents and dump massive amounts of love on me to fill the hole they left.
Deep down, I know that's impossible, but in those moments, that's exactly what I'm hunting for.
Like, now that the storm has passed and I'm reading your smart advice, I'm sitting here thinking; yeah, you're right, I get it, so why the hell can't I just control myself?
It isn't that I don't know better; it's that I physically can't help it.
At least for now. But I have to figure it out, because I'm going to wreck every relationship I have if I keep trying to drain my partner's "emotional reserves" dry.

Nicholas Gonzalez8 said:Look, you’ve gotta start by being brutally honest—with yourself first, then with your partner. Lay it all out there: the fears, the intrusive thoughts, the messy emotions. But here’s the catch—don't go in swinging. Pick your words carefully so you aren't just lighting a fuse for a massive blowout or hurting them in the process. Try explaining that this insecurity isn't some random glitch; it actually stems from how things went down with your parents back in the day.

When someone is constantly starving for affection or begging for validation from everyone around them, it’s usually because they aren't actually okay with who they are. It’s a void, plain and simple. So, do yourself a favor: grab a notebook and write down every single win, every strength, and every compliment you’ve ever received. Our brains are wired to be jerks—we tend to gloss over our successes like they never happened. Getting it down on paper is a solid way to start actually seeing yourself clearly.

Anyway, I’m running a bit behind schedule right now, so I just shot you a quick DM with some more specific pointers. But hey, if you want to dive deeper into this, just give me a shout and we can really hash it out.

Thanks, Zac Brown. Your advice is totally logical, wise, and 100% correct.

Maybe you’re actually addicted to being rejected.
Subconsciously, you might be pushing your partner away just so you can settle into that "rejected" persona
and relive those old feelings from back when you were a kid.

I mean, what are you even expecting from a father figure? Haven't you realized who he really is by now?
What makes a relationship work? It definitely isn't jealousy!
Are you actually sitting down and talking to your partner about "your" issue?

Ryan Kelly2 said:I quoted parts of what you said, but honestly, everything you wrote is spot on.
I actually tried asking for love this way once, and it worked. I got that comforting kind of love, my partner was genuinely sweet, and we were both happy.
But here’s my deal: on a logical level, I know exactly how I should act. And if I'm feeling composed and rational enough to be spontaneous and affectionate (total paradox, I know, but whatever), then everything is great. But man... there are days when everything hits me at once: hormones, a massive trigger from my parents, old buried emotions resurfacing... and I just react in this totally starved, desperate way.
I find myself wanting my partner to basically replace my parents and dump massive amounts of love on me to fill the hole they left.
Deep down, I know that's impossible, but in those moments, that's exactly what I'm hunting for.
Like, now that the storm has passed and I'm reading your smart advice, I'm sitting here thinking; yeah, you're right, I get it, so why the hell can't I just control myself?
It isn't that I don't know better; it's that I physically can't help it.
At least for now. But I have to figure it out, because I'm going to wreck every relationship I have if I keep trying to drain my partner's "emotional reserves" dry.

Thanks, Zac Brown. Your advice is totally logical, wise, and 100% correct.

It’s funny how the brain works, isn't it? You hit an emotional wall—let's call that a serotonin deficiency—and instead of actually dealing with the underlying issue, you just start obsessively grinding away at some goal or task to chase that dopamine hit. You get caught in this frantic loop of trying to solve the problem through sheer force of will, but here's the kicker: while you're stuck in that frantic struggle, you don't even feel the actual emotional void anymore. Instead, you just feel the hollow rush of "success" from the grind itself. It’s a total trick of the mind. Even with physical stuff, like if you have a nagging ache somewhere in your body—that's your serotonin signaling a problem—you’ll often find yourself subconsciously tensing up all the muscles around that spot just to mask the sensation. You're basically using a dopamine-driven physical tension to drown out the very signal telling you that something is wrong.

Think about it this way: an emotional issue triggers a projection, which the conscious mind then tries to "conquer." It’s like we’re shifting the entire focus away from the actual ache and onto the hollow satisfaction of "solving" that projected problem. We trick ourselves into thinking we've won, when really, we've just moved the goalposts. Because of that, our emotional state becomes entirely tethered to whatever immediate action we take or whatever instant gratification we get from the result—it’s incredibly short-sighted. Honestly, this kind of defensive mechanism is exactly what paves the way for that addictive, cyclical pattern we see so often.
Think about it this way: if someone manages to successfully weaponize their projections—meaning they effectively trick people into absorbing those false narratives until others basically "lose" the argument—they end up developing this intense sense of dominance over everyone around them. It’s that classic trajectory toward a full-blown narcissistic personality type where you feel like you're pulling all the strings. But, on the flip side, if a person fails to make their projections stick—if people see right through the nonsense and refuse to buy into the drama—that individual ends up feeling constantly victimized by the world. That specific kind of failure leads directly into that FBI-type narcissism, where everything is always someone else's fault and you're perpetually the one being persecuted.
In both scenarios, you're looking at the same underlying trauma: that raw, fundamental ache of losing control over your own existence. It’s this deep-seated sense of powerlessness that gets baked into your psyche during childhood because of how people invalidate your reality. Instead of dealing with that core wound, the focus constantly shifts toward trying to master the ability to control or dominate others—it becomes a survival mechanism based on winning at any cost. See, when you're a kid, you aren't even allowed to develop a true sense of self; you aren't permitted to reach your own potential. It usually happens because parents, who haven't even figured out their own identities, start projecting all their personal baggage and insecurities onto you. And since they hold all the cards and have all the power, they always come out on top, leaving you to lose every single time. In that cycle, you don't just lose the argument—you lose your very soul.

That's about the way it is.

Look, besides that direct bit of advice about learning how to spot these situations early and actually trying to flip the script on the outcome, here’s what I’m really getting from all of this: No Pain No Gain. That’s the only way through. It’s basically your way of finally getting to know who you actually are.

If you actually want your body to start pumping out those endogenous opioids—you know, those endorphins and all that stuff that helps modulate pain—then you have to actually go through it. You can’t just sit there; if you’re just twitching or feeling minor discomfort, nothing happens. You have to truly feel it. These opioids don't just tweak your physical sensation of pain; they act on the psychological side too. They essentially regulate that fundamental tug-of-war between our survival instinct and our death drive at a deep, primal level.

Think about it this way: when some kind of primal, destructive impulse—that deep-seated death instinct—starts bubbling up at a lower level of your consciousness, the higher levels of your mind basically step in and sacrifice that raw emotion or physical sensation. It’s like the higher self decides that feeling that intense pain or emotional turmoil is a luxury we can't afford right now if we want to actually solve the problem at hand. The higher level effectively mutes the lower level's distress to ensure that behavior remains focused and unhindered, allowing you to act decisively to fix whatever crisis is unfolding. It’s the same mechanism that explains how the human body works during an emergency. You see it all the time in real life—like when a parent is faced with a split-second decision to pull their child away from a speeding car or a dangerous accident. In that exact moment, the brain can completely override even the most agonizing physical pain or overwhelming fear to prioritize that higher necessity of survival. The body just shuts off the "noise" of the pain so you can do what needs to be done.

Look, the signal is screaming at you, but you’re just ignoring it because you have this misplaced faith that if you act a certain way, the pain will somehow resolve itself. That belief is a trap. In your case, no amount of specific behavior is ever going to actually fix the underlying ache. Because of that, you really need to stop the behaviors that act as a mask for the pain and instead actually sit with the raw, original hurt at its deepest level. Stopping those behaviors means more than just quitting a habit; it means stopping the endless mental loop of rationalizing and making excuses—all that noise generated by the pressure to hide—and finally turning your focus toward the actual pain causing it all.

In my opinion, this isn't easy at all. Even mainstream psychotherapy usually tries to dig down to that original wound, which is buried way too deep in most adults. It’s only once you actually start excavating that stuff that you can bring the "memory" of it up into your conscious mind, making it available for you to process and work through. Until you dig it out from the depths, it stays exactly what it is, just "sublimating" into compulsive, self-sabotaging patterns instead of being felt consciously.

Basically, my advice is to become aware of these things inside yourself, move toward forgiving yourself for having them, and then explain it all to your partner. Tell them how to recognize when it's happening so you two can find a way to vent that energy without them having to bend to your every whim. For me, the easiest—and honestly, probably the best—way to handle this is through humor. When they see you slipping into that state, they should try to "break" it with a joke. Neurologically speaking, humor and shame are two sides of the same coin. Humor acts as a sort of "shame cancelation" button; it's like an exercise or a workout for the ego. Being put in awkward spots by people who care about you builds ego strength and wisdom. Humor deconstructs an uncomfortable moment by treating it as something hypothetical and friendly. Without humor, an awkward situation turns into shame, which makes the discomfort feel permanent and real. So, your partner needs to use humor to puncture your cognitive dissonance because, right now, you can't see your way out of it. They have to do it in a way that doesn't wound you, and that’s where the humor comes in. You just have to make sure you grab onto it like a lifeline. For instance, they might tease you with something like, "Oh, look, the little princess needs some extra attention again," or whatever—it doesn't even matter what the words are, as long as they say it in a way that’s accepting and funny. The content isn't the point; the point is that they need to see the inner child in you during those moments. That is monumentally important. And you? You need to stop fighting the fact that you're acting like a child and just accept a humorous comment about your inability to see past those childhood compulsions. Forgive yourself, laugh at your own childishness along with your partner, and just hold each other.

It would also be pretty insightful to try and pinpoint exactly what triggers you—to figure out precisely what kicks you into that "mode."

hiddeneagle98 said:It’s funny how the brain works, isn't it? You hit an emotional wall—let's call that a serotonin deficiency—and instead of actually dealing with the underlying issue, you just start obsessively grinding away at some goal or task to chase that dopamine hit. You get caught in this frantic loop of trying to solve the problem through sheer force of will, but here's the kicker: while you're stuck in that frantic struggle, you don't even feel the actual emotional void anymore. Instead, you just feel the hollow rush of "success" from the grind itself. It’s a total trick of the mind. Even with physical stuff, like if you have a nagging ache somewhere in your body—that's your serotonin signaling a problem—you’ll often find yourself subconsciously tensing up all the muscles around that spot just to mask the sensation. You're basically using a dopamine-driven physical tension to drown out the very signal telling you that something is wrong.

Think about it this way: an emotional issue triggers a projection, which the conscious mind then tries to "conquer." It’s like we’re shifting the entire focus away from the actual ache and onto the hollow satisfaction of "solving" that projected problem. We trick ourselves into thinking we've won, when really, we've just moved the goalposts. Because of that, our emotional state becomes entirely tethered to whatever immediate action we take or whatever instant gratification we get from the result—it’s incredibly short-sighted. Honestly, this kind of defensive mechanism is exactly what paves the way for that addictive, cyclical pattern we see so often.
Think about it this way: if someone manages to successfully weaponize their projections—meaning they effectively trick people into absorbing those false narratives until others basically "lose" the argument—they end up developing this intense sense of dominance over everyone around them. It’s that classic trajectory toward a full-blown narcissistic personality type where you feel like you're pulling all the strings. But, on the flip side, if a person fails to make their projections stick—if people see right through the nonsense and refuse to buy into the drama—that individual ends up feeling constantly victimized by the world. That specific kind of failure leads directly into that FBI-type narcissism, where everything is always someone else's fault and you're perpetually the one being persecuted.
In both scenarios, you're looking at the same underlying trauma: that raw, fundamental ache of losing control over your own existence. It’s this deep-seated sense of powerlessness that gets baked into your psyche during childhood because of how people invalidate your reality. Instead of dealing with that core wound, the focus constantly shifts toward trying to master the ability to control or dominate others—it becomes a survival mechanism based on winning at any cost. See, when you're a kid, you aren't even allowed to develop a true sense of self; you aren't permitted to reach your own potential. It usually happens because parents, who haven't even figured out their own identities, start projecting all their personal baggage and insecurities onto you. And since they hold all the cards and have all the power, they always come out on top, leaving you to lose every single time. In that cycle, you don't just lose the argument—you lose your very soul.

That's about the way it is.

Look, besides that direct bit of advice about learning how to spot these situations early and actually trying to flip the script on the outcome, here’s what I’m really getting from all of this: No Pain No Gain. That’s the only way through. It’s basically your way of finally getting to know who you actually are.

If you actually want your body to start pumping out those endogenous opioids—you know, those endorphins and all that stuff that helps modulate pain—then you have to actually go through it. You can’t just sit there; if you’re just twitching or feeling minor discomfort, nothing happens. You have to truly feel it. These opioids don't just tweak your physical sensation of pain; they act on the psychological side too. They essentially regulate that fundamental tug-of-war between our survival instinct and our death drive at a deep, primal level.

Think about it this way: when some kind of primal, destructive impulse—that deep-seated death instinct—starts bubbling up at a lower level of your consciousness, the higher levels of your mind basically step in and sacrifice that raw emotion or physical sensation. It’s like the higher self decides that feeling that intense pain or emotional turmoil is a luxury we can't afford right now if we want to actually solve the problem at hand. The higher level effectively mutes the lower level's distress to ensure that behavior remains focused and unhindered, allowing you to act decisively to fix whatever crisis is unfolding. It’s the same mechanism that explains how the human body works during an emergency. You see it all the time in real life—like when a parent is faced with a split-second decision to pull their child away from a speeding car or a dangerous accident. In that exact moment, the brain can completely override even the most agonizing physical pain or overwhelming fear to prioritize that higher necessity of survival. The body just shuts off the "noise" of the pain so you can do what needs to be done.

Look, the signal is screaming at you, but you’re just ignoring it because you have this misplaced faith that if you act a certain way, the pain will somehow resolve itself. That belief is a trap. In your case, no amount of specific behavior is ever going to actually fix the underlying ache. Because of that, you really need to stop the behaviors that act as a mask for the pain and instead actually sit with the raw, original hurt at its deepest level. Stopping those behaviors means more than just quitting a habit; it means stopping the endless mental loop of rationalizing and making excuses—all that noise generated by the pressure to hide—and finally turning your focus toward the actual pain causing it all.

In my opinion, this isn't easy at all. Even mainstream psychotherapy usually tries to dig down to that original wound, which is buried way too deep in most adults. It’s only once you actually start excavating that stuff that you can bring the "memory" of it up into your conscious mind, making it available for you to process and work through. Until you dig it out from the depths, it stays exactly what it is, just "sublimating" into compulsive, self-sabotaging patterns instead of being felt consciously.

Basically, my advice is to become aware of these things inside yourself, move toward forgiving yourself for having them, and then explain it all to your partner. Tell them how to recognize when it's happening so you two can find a way to vent that energy without them having to bend to your every whim. For me, the easiest—and honestly, probably the best—way to handle this is through humor. When they see you slipping into that state, they should try to "break" it with a joke. Neurologically speaking, humor and shame are two sides of the same coin. Humor acts as a sort of "shame cancelation" button; it's like an exercise or a workout for the ego. Being put in awkward spots by people who care about you builds ego strength and wisdom. Humor deconstructs an uncomfortable moment by treating it as something hypothetical and friendly. Without humor, an awkward situation turns into shame, which makes the discomfort feel permanent and real. So, your partner needs to use humor to puncture your cognitive dissonance because, right now, you can't see your way out of it. They have to do it in a way that doesn't wound you, and that’s where the humor comes in. You just have to make sure you grab onto it like a lifeline. For instance, they might tease you with something like, "Oh, look, the little princess needs some extra attention again," or whatever—it doesn't even matter what the words are, as long as they say it in a way that’s accepting and funny. The content isn't the point; the point is that they need to see the inner child in you during those moments. That is monumentally important. And you? You need to stop fighting the fact that you're acting like a child and just accept a humorous comment about your inability to see past those childhood compulsions. Forgive yourself, laugh at your own childishness along with your partner, and just hold each other.

It would also be pretty insightful to try and pinpoint exactly what triggers you—to figure out precisely what kicks you into that "mode."

hiddeneagle98, I am curious if, in your estimation, this specific situation—the internal state she described—would fall under the criteria for the FBI?
If you have the inclination, please provide a bit more context regarding your reasoning.

hiddeneagle98, thanks for the deep dive. Honestly, my partner actually cracked a joke once when I was being super snarky and angry at him, and it totally flipped the mood from rage to laughter.
But yeah, that was a one-time thing. A total fluke.
My guy is way more immature than I am. Instead of just laughing off the tension, he gets defensive and acts like dealing with my baggage is some massive burden—especially since he’s got his own mess to deal with, probably even more than me.
I tried explaining what’s going on in my head, but it backfired completely. He just doesn't get it. Actually, it made him even angrier because he thinks I'm wasting time on this stuff. His big argument? "We’re healthy and we have jobs, what else do you want?" Like, seriously?
So, yeah, expecting any kind of teamwork from him is a lost cause.
At this point, it's all on me. I have to do the heavy lifting on myself to figure out how to channel this stuff and finally deal with these childhood patterns I'm projecting onto him from my old man.
But here's what's really eating at me: can an immature partner actually help with this process, or are they just gonna make everything ten times worse?
Maybe that's a rhetorical question. Probably is.

Mark Diaz75 said:Maybe you’re actually addicted to being rejected.
Subconsciously, you might be pushing your partner away just so you can settle into that "rejected" persona
and relive those old feelings from back when you were a kid.

I mean, what are you even expecting from a father figure? Haven't you realized who he really is by now?
What makes a relationship work? It definitely isn't jealousy!
Are you actually sitting down and talking to your partner about "your" issue?

Look, honestly, who cares about my old man? He’s not the point—it’s THAT specific sting I get from how things play out.
Am I talking to my partner about it? Yeah, I mean, I'm trying.

Ryan Kelly2 said:hiddeneagle98, thanks for the deep dive. Honestly, my partner actually cracked a joke once when I was being super snarky and angry at him, and it totally flipped the mood from rage to laughter.
But yeah, that was a one-time thing. A total fluke.
My guy is way more immature than I am. Instead of just laughing off the tension, he gets defensive and acts like dealing with my baggage is some massive burden—especially since he’s got his own mess to deal with, probably even more than me.
I tried explaining what’s going on in my head, but it backfired completely. He just doesn't get it. Actually, it made him even angrier because he thinks I'm wasting time on this stuff. His big argument? "We’re healthy and we have jobs, what else do you want?" Like, seriously?
So, yeah, expecting any kind of teamwork from him is a lost cause.
At this point, it's all on me. I have to do the heavy lifting on myself to figure out how to channel this stuff and finally deal with these childhood patterns I'm projecting onto him from my old man.
But here's what's really eating at me: can an immature partner actually help with this process, or are they just gonna make everything ten times worse?
Maybe that's a rhetorical question. Probably is.

This is a bit awkward to bring up, but I suspect people with similar struggles tend to gravitate toward each other. Usually, you see these patterns involving Narcissism and FBI traits, though it's not always a full-blown diagnosis; it's more like a temporary way of functioning when certain triggers hit you.

Humans—honestly, all mammals, if you look at how dogs interact—tend to "scent out" behavior. Emotional immaturity often manifests as intense, reactive, or invalidating behavior (essentially trying to win the battle of childhood projections). If that behavior meets someone who validates them, it sparks an overwhelming infatuation. But later on, once that sense of security is established through excessive behavior and validating that control, it devolves into a cycle where both parties can't stand each other, much like their relationships with their parents.

When you're trying to integrate an object (your partner), you view them as a motivator to learn how to manage them—basically, learning how to elicit love. Once that integration happens (because repeatedly baiting that affection results in the expected reaction, making control feel safe), all that's left is the fear of losing that control. That initial phase of infatuation is what drives the integration process. The later stage, once the person is integrated, is essentially the high cost of maintaining that object. Maintaining something you worked so hard to integrate is exhausting, and that exhaustion breeds paranoia about losing control. Losing control, unlike the act of integration itself, triggers fear and anxiety rather than infatuation.

My main point is that partners "click"—they scent each other out, as I mentioned—but that click is often, as many people on this forum have noted, a fast track to disaster. It takes incredible strength and wisdom from both sides to realize the thankless situation they've landed in and to recognize the blind spots their parents handed down to them.

I’ve read through everything here, and honestly—my only real advice is this: you need to learn how to work on your emotional modulation and regulation.
It’s a lot like those Pavlovian conditioning experiments you see with dogs—except this is a specific kind of self-control where you’re expected to act as both the trainer and the dog at the same time.
Look, let’s get one thing straight—your emotions, how you choose to interpret what other people are doing, and those unrealistic emotional expectations you hold? That's all on you. It’s entirely subjective. It has absolutely nothing to do with anyone else.

You know how the saying goes—if your hand is working against you, cut it off. If your anatomy is causing nothing but trouble, get rid of it. And if your emotions start messing with your head? Liquidate them. Period. 🤣

Actually, that’s not quite how you’d say it—but honestly, I just had a sudden spark of inspiration. 😁

"Quote:"

Ryan Kelly2 said:hiddeneagle98, thanks for the deep dive. Honestly, my partner actually cracked a joke once when I was being super snarky and angry at him, and it totally flipped the mood from rage to laughter.
But yeah, that was a one-time thing. A total fluke.
My guy is way more immature than I am. Instead of just laughing off the tension, he gets defensive and acts like dealing with my baggage is some massive burden—especially since he’s got his own mess to deal with, probably even more than me.
I tried explaining what’s going on in my head, but it backfired completely. He just doesn't get it. Actually, it made him even angrier because he thinks I'm wasting time on this stuff. His big argument? "We’re healthy and we have jobs, what else do you want?" Like, seriously?
So, yeah, expecting any kind of teamwork from him is a lost cause.
At this point, it's all on me. I have to do the heavy lifting on myself to figure out how to channel this stuff and finally deal with these childhood patterns I'm projecting onto him from my old man.
But here's what's really eating at me: can an immature partner actually help with this process, or are they just gonna make everything ten times worse?
Maybe that's a rhetorical question. Probably is.

Look, you’re not wrong—you hit the nail on the head there. People are struggling just to put food on the table and afford a basic drink, and here you are, trying to shove nothing but raw emotion down their throats. It doesn't sit right.

Maybe you need to spend a few days out in the middle of nowhere with nothing but some hardtack and water—just see how you like it. Then maybe you’ll finally realize that your little emotions aren't actually all that important. 😉 🤣

It sounds like you’re the kind of person who desperately needs a total life overhaul—a complete realignment of what actually matters. To you, love isn't about those grand, performative gestures or constantly showering someone with empty affection—it’s about showing up. It’s that willingness to step up and actually do something when it truly counts, right when your partner needs you most.

"Quote:"

Ryan Kelly2 said:Hey everyone! I’ve been sitting here realizing there’s this one thing that’s absolutely eating me alive: this constant, starving hunger for love.
There was a time when I felt it way more intensely, like it was crushing me.
I honestly had no clue where it was coming from or why I felt so empty, but I’m finally starting to untangle the mess and see things for what they really are.
Look, let’s be real—the root cause is my parents.
It’s the classic American dysfunctional family setup: an emasculating father and a mother who was weak and totally immature. They were so wrapped up in their own toxic dynamic that, weirdly enough, they actually got jealous whenever any attention was directed toward me or my brother.
If my mom tried to show me even a shred of affection, my dad would get bitter about it. He wanted all her focus for himself. And vice versa. It was a total tug-of-war.
Every single bad relationship choice I’ve made since then stems directly from that internal conflict that’s been baked into my psyche since birth.
This massive craving for validation drove me straight into the arms of people who either couldn't give it to me or people I ended up sabotaging myself.
I’ve calmed down a bit lately, but don't get it twisted—I've just suppressed it.
This insatiable hunger for love manifests as this constant, nagging anxiety that my partner doesn't love me enough, and it swallows me whole whenever I hit a low point!
And it always, *always* circles back to that same old insecurity rooted in my childhood home.
The latest meltdown happened just recently. I went to visit my family, and my dad barely even looked at me. He just completely ignored my presence.
I haven't done anything to him; I'm living my life, working, and visiting them when I can. But the man acts like I don't even exist.
In an instant, he triggered that nasty, gut-wrenching, uncomfortable feeling that haunted my entire childhood and followed me into adulthood.
I seriously thought I was "healed," but clearly, the wounds are still wide open.
After episodes like that, I start demanding way too much from my partner. I get hyper-sensitive, constantly hunting for proof that they care, and then—paradoxically—instead of getting more love, they pull away.
It’s like they can sense my dysfunction, while all I want is for them to feed me with emotions and constant reassurance.
But that’s not how the world works, so the hunger just grows, and suddenly I’m acting "crazy."

HOW DO I SATISFY THIS HUNGER WITHOUT RELYING ON OTHER PEOPLE? How do I feed my own soul without this pathological desperation?
How do I stop being a bottomless pit?

I can tell you firsthand—my parents are exactly the same way. They’re either completely checked out or just aggressively, almost blindly, optimistic about everything. It's one or the other. 😍 It’s like watching those idiots throwing boiled potatoes or dart arrows at each other. 😠 .

Even kids only seem to exist when both parents are so intensely laser-focused on each other that they reach a breaking point—you know, that moment where everything becomes too much, everyone’s getting cranky, or the kids finally go and screw something up big time.

Being around kids can be incredibly draining—honestly, it’s just tedious most of the time. It creates this sort of suffocating, stagnant environment where you don't feel truly alive. You end up feeling half-dead, misunderstood, or just plain ignored—like you don't even exist, or like your whole life is just some random roll of the dice.
Let’s be clear here—we aren't talking about people who actually possess the intellectual depth to focus on one another. They lack that capacity entirely. Even if someone smarter, more rational, or just plain better looking is standing right next to them—whether it's their own kids or just some other person—they don't see it. It’s like they’re completely blind to anyone else's presence.

It’s funny how you interpret that "ignoring" behavior—or rather, their hyper-fixation on each other—as this desperate hunger for emotional connection. For everyone else, myself included, it’s different. We aren't craving that manufactured intimacy; we’re hungry for actual stimuli. When it comes to being social, we're looking for constant humor, genuine entertainment, and something that actually lets me get fully immersed in the moment.