Lately I have been reading about how people can “borrow” someone else’s nervous system to regulate own their dysregulated nervous system. As I understand it, when someone exudes a sort of safety or calmness or reliability, their strong nervous system is naturally soothing to someone who is feeling chaotic or sad or internally disorganized. The person who is hurting will sometimes rest inside that safe person’s nervous system to find a sort of stability or comfort they cannot then produce on their own. It is not a conscious or vampiric process . . . it’s not as though the safe person suffers for it. You can regulate or be regulated by someone simply by being in their presence. We’re doing it all the time whether we realize it or not. I myself can think of a dozen or so nervous systems I borrow on a regular basis. I am lucky to know so many good ones.

My favorite thing to hear from someone is that I make them feel safe. Every now and then someone will tell me that and I’ll want to cry. If I accomplish nothing else with my life (and it seems that’s going to be the case), then all the pain and misery I have felt on this planet will have been worth it if a handful of God’s little creatures felt a sense of safety in my presence. Sometimes people define that safety in different ways. They’ll say they feel safe to be themselves, that they won’t be judged, that they can express themselves and say anything, even things they are deeply insecure about, and I will listen to them. All of these things are true. Other times it’s simply somatic. I don’t take it for granted that people feel this way around me. It is a sort of honor. They feel safe and I want them to feel safe. I feel safe around them too.

Wherever I have lived, my house always becomes a sort of refuge for friends and friendly strangers who stay up late and don’t want to be alone, which is often how I feel too. People call me because they know I will be awake, and they know I will pick up, and they know that if they ask if they can come over I will say yes. I always love the company. Just the other night my friend Elina (The Estonian Girl) called me crying. She said she was sad and scared and asked if she could come spend the night at my place. I said: “Duh!” and so over she came. We lit incense and made coffee and watched a movie under the glow of my galaxy light. Elina seemed to feel much better after that. I could tell she felt safe. I was regulating her.

When people call me in distress or come over because they feel scared or lonely, they are seeking safety by borrowing my nervous system. Thing is, I am so happy to lend it to them. When I care about someone, my nervous system is a limitless resource to them. They need only lie down and rest in the shade of it . . . they could pitch a tent in there for all I care. Though I am by no means the most stable person on earth, I do have a strong nervous system. Perhaps it was not always so, but I know now it is. And whenever I feel like jumping in front of a train or tying a noose or throwing myself upon the sword, I would be tossing that hard-got nervous system away. Sometimes people find comfort in mine, just as I find comfort in theirs. I am alive because of a few of those strong nervous systems I know. They have saved me. Not everyone has a bunch of nervous systems they can count on when the dark tide rolls in . . . it would be such a sadness to not be there to lend mine to a friend when they needed a safe place to hide.