Addicted to Chaos? Understanding Self Sabotaging Behaviors

Are You Addicted to Chaos? The Link Between Trauma and Drama

“It’s not that I wanted chaos, it just felt familiar. Stillness made me anxious. Peace felt like a trick. So I kept choosing the storm.”

Some people chase highs. Others chase order. But then there are those of us, many of us, who chase chaos without even realizing it. We confuse adrenaline for connection. We mistake intensity for intimacy. We sabotage calm because it feels foreign. These self sabotaging behaviors may go unrecognized, but maybe they are a form of addiction.

If you’ve ever looked back at your life and wondered why you keep getting into messy relationships, repeating toxic patterns, or blowing things up just when they’re going well, this might be your truth. Not because you’re dramatic. Not because you’re flawed. But in the end, chaos became your comfort zone.

Let’s talk about what it really means to be “addicted to chaos,” and how trauma, especially early trauma, can turn drama into a coping mechanism—one of many self sabotaging behaviors people develop to manage pain.

The Familiarity of Chaos

People often assume addiction only relates to substances. But anything that offers temporary relief or distraction, chaotic relationships, arguments, overworking, risk-taking, can serve as an emotional drug.

When you grow up in unpredictability, where love came with yelling, silence meant punishment, or safety was always at risk, your nervous system adapts. It learns that calm isn’t safe. That waiting for the “next thing” is survival.

So as adults, we unconsciously seek that same tension. We find comfort in conflict. We crave the emotional rollercoaster. We stir drama when life feels too still. Not because we want to suffer, but because chaos feels more known than peace.

This is how self-sabotaging behaviors are born. You finally get the healthy relationship, and push it away. You start feeling better, and pick a fight. You feel loved, but don’t believe it, so you test it until it breaks.

The Effects of Childhood Trauma on Relationships

Much of this pattern begins in childhood. Not always from abuse or neglect, sometimes from subtler wounds. A parent who was emotionally unavailable. A home where feelings weren’t discussed. A family dynamic built on survival, not safety.

These early experiences form our emotional blueprint, our beliefs about love, worth, and connection. If your childhood taught you that love is conditional, conflict-driven, or inconsistent, you’re likely to replay those dynamics as an adult.

This is the core of the effects of childhood trauma on relationships. It’s not that we want unhealthy love, it’s that it’s the only love we recognize.

So we attract people who feel familiar, not necessarily safe. We mistake emotional chaos for passion. We stay in cycles we know are harmful, because the unknown, peace, stability, gentleness, feels unbearable.

The Impact of Trauma on Relationships

Trauma doesn’t just live in the past. It lives in the body. In the nervous system. In the way we respond to closeness, silence, or emotional need—highlighting the profound impact of trauma on relationships.

That’s why even with the “right” partner, we may still feel triggered. We may struggle with trust, push people away, or test boundaries. We might cling too tightly, or pull away too soon.

The impact of trauma on relationships is nuanced. We might struggle with:

Interpreting calm as boredom or distance

 Creating drama to feel alive or connected

 Avoiding intimacy while craving it

 Confusing criticism for care

Selecting partners that are emotionally unavailable repeatedly

None of this means we’re unlovable. It means we’re still learning how to receive love without fear.

Why We Self-Sabotage

Self-sabotaging behaviors are often misunderstood. They’re not signs of weakness. They’re signs of unresolved pain—and they can deeply affect the impact of trauma on relationships.

We sabotage when we don’t believe we deserve good things. When we fear success more than failure. When receiving feels scarier than giving. Sometimes love appears more like a threat than a blessing.

It might look like:

Ghosting someone who genuinely likes you

 Procrastinating on something important

 Picking fights when things are going smoothly

Accepting things that drain you

 Saying “no” to things that could heal you

These aren’t random choices. They’re protective mechanisms, built to keep you in what’s familiar—even if it hurts—reflecting the deep effects of childhood trauma on relationships.

The Role of Mindfulness for Emotional Regulation

So, how do we break the cycle?

The first step is awareness. You can’t change a pattern you don’t see.

This is where mindfulness for emotional regulation becomes a life-changing tool. Mindfulness doesn’t mean emptying your mind. It means noticing, without judgment, what’s happening in your body, your thoughts, and your impulses.

When you feel the urge to pick a fight, pull away, or self-destruct, mindfulness for emotional regulation offers a pause. A breath. A space between trigger and response.

It allows you to ask:

What am I feeling right now?
What am I afraid of?
Is this chaos, or is it unfamiliar peace?
What would it feel like to not react?

These small pauses add up. Over time, mindfulness for emotional regulation helps create new wiring in the brain. New patterns. New ways of choosing calm, even when it feels strange.

Healing Is Not About Becoming Calm, It’s About Making Peace With Calm

When you’re addicted to chaos, the hardest part isn’t ending the drama. It’s sitting with the quiet that follows. The stillness that once felt like danger. The peace that feels foreign.

But peace is where healing lives.

You’ll know you’re healing when:

You don’t react immediately to discomfort
You can sit in silence without panic
You no longer chase people who confuse you
You crave stability more than stimulation
You trust love that doesn’t hurt

This doesn’t happen overnight. It happens in slow, quiet moments. In therapy sessions. In tearful breakthroughs. In sitting with your triggers without obeying the self sabotaging behaviors they often trigger.

It happens when you forgive yourself, not just for what you’ve done, but for the self sabotaging behaviors you developed to survive.

At Mounam, We Understand the Noise Beneath the Silence

We work with people every day who feel trapped in emotional chaos, people who want calm, but don’t know how to stay there. People who have built their lives around surviving storms and now need to learn how to rest in the sunlight.

Our work is trauma-informed. That means we don’t just look at the behavior, we ask what’s beneath it. We explore childhood dynamics, nervous system responses, and relationship patterns. We integrate mindfulness, somatic healing, and emotional safety.

Because healing from chaos isn’t just about stopping the noise. It’s about recognizing and overcoming the self sabotaging behaviors that keep us from trusting the quiet.

You Are Allowed to Feel Safe

If your life has always felt loud—emotionally, relationally, mentally—you might not know who you are without the drama. The effects of childhood trauma on relationships often create patterns that make calm feel unfamiliar. But that doesn’t mean drama is your destiny.

You are allowed to feel safe.
You are allowed to be loved without confusion.
You are allowed to heal without chaos.

It will take time. You’ll crave old patterns. You’ll miss the intensity. But over time, your nervous system will adjust. Understanding the effects of childhood trauma on relationships can help explain why these patterns feel so familiar—and why healing brings a new craving for ease, steadiness, and peace.

In conclusion, healing is a journey that requires patience, support, and self-compassion. At Mounam, we believe that with the right care and understanding, every individual can rediscover hope and rebuild a meaningful life.