Emotionally Drunk: How a Car Exhaust Taught Me to Pause

A simple mistake with a car part turned into a powerful reminder about emotional sobriety, regulation, and the value of slowing down.

There’s something funny about how the smallest problems can unravel the most tangled parts of ourselves.

All I did was buy the wrong exhaust system. It wasn’t a huge deal, really — just a part that didn’t fit, a few hundred quid, and a return to sort out. But in the moment, it felt like everything was collapsing. I stood in the garage, my car undrivable, the weight of the quote hanging in my chest like debt I hadn’t yet accrued.

And for a second — or maybe longer — I didn’t just question the part. I questioned whether I even wanted to keep the car. Whether I could afford this lifestyle. Whether it was all a mistake.

That’s what it feels like to be emotionally drunk.


The Analogy That Changed Everything

Someone once said to me:

“When you’re dysregulated, it’s like being drunk.
You shouldn’t drive. You shouldn’t text your ex. You shouldn’t make life decisions.
You just wait until you’re sober again.”

It stuck with me. Because I’ve lived through so many moments where I made decisions from a place of emotional intoxication — and they rarely served me. I’ve quit things too fast, spent money too quickly, walked away or lashed out when what I really needed was to just pause.

In the garage that day, I was in that state.
Flooded. Foggy. Embarrassed. Helpless.
But this time, I did something different.


I Paused.

Instead of spiraling, I checked the facts. I sat with it. I looked again at the quote and realised something simple: I’d misread it. It wasn’t £250 more than the other part — it was only £70. A mistake, yes. But not catastrophic. Not a reason to throw away the whole car. Or the day.

And that moment — of realising the storm had passed — was sobering in more ways than one.


Regulation Is a Practice, Not a Trait

I’ve come to realise that regulation isn’t something you have — it’s something you return to. Over and over. Through breathwork. Through solitude. Through a healthy meal. Through talking things through with someone you trust. Sometimes just by giving yourself five more minutes before you act.

And the goal isn’t to never get emotionally drunk. The goal is just to know when you are.

To feel the pressure building in your chest.
To hear the frantic tone in your thoughts.
To see the shame script starting to write itself.

And to say:

“Ah — there I am again. Let’s not drive the car yet.”


Everything Ripples

What started as a car part became a mirror for how I move through life. The part didn’t fit — just like sometimes my expectations don’t. The quote felt too much — until I looked again. And the panic passed — like it usually does — once I let the dust settle.

This whole experience reminded me that the way I do one thing is often the way I do everything. But it also reminded me that I can choose differently. That I’m learning to wait until I’m sober before deciding the world is ending.

And that’s enough for today.