The Whiplash in the Room
Week one, they sit close.
Their knees touch on the couch. They laugh about something small and domestic—whose turn it was to unload the dishwasher. One of them says, “We’re committed. We just need tools.” You nod. You breathe. The session ends with cautious optimism.
Week two, one partner says, almost casually, “I looked up divorce attorneys.”
The other partner goes still. Or explodes. Or both.
And you, the therapist, feel that subtle internal shift. The oscillation fatigue. The mental recalibration. The quiet question: Are we stabilizing… or are we spinning?
High conflict couples often move between “I’m done” and “We’re fine” with startling speed. It can look inconsistent. Dramatic. Manipulative. It is usually none of those things.
More often, it is dysregulation wearing a wedding ring.
The problem is not always love. In fact, love is often quite intact. The problem is regulation. Or more precisely, the lack of it.
These couples are not inconsistent in motivation. They are inconsistent in nervous system capacity. And that distinction matters because it changes what we treat.
If we treat motivation, we argue about commitment.
If we treat regulation, we change the cycle.
And in high conflict couples, the cycle is the client.
High Conflict vs. Abuse: The Ethical Line We Cannot Blur
Before we go any further, we draw a line. A clear one.
High conflict is not the same thing as abuse.
High conflict involves:
Mutual dysregulation.
Escalation loops.
Protest behaviors.
Two nervous systems colliding.
Abuse involves:
Power imbalance.
Coercion.
Fear.
Control.
Not every loud relationship is unsafe. Not every calm relationship is stable. Some couples yell because neither knows how to downshift. Others whisper because one person has learned that silence is safer.
As clinicians, our job is to assess for power, intimidation, and ongoing coercive control before we move into traditional couples work. If one partner cannot speak freely in session, we are not working with high conflict. We are working with a safety issue.
That line protects the couple. It protects the therapist. And it protects the integrity of the work.
We do not romanticize volatility. We also do not pathologize intensity.
Discernment begins with clarity.
The Divorce Threat Cycle as Regulation
High conflict couples are rarely arguing about the surface issue.
They are regulating.
Or trying to.
Here’s the pattern many of us recognize:
A small trigger lands.
An attachment wound gets brushed.
The nervous system spikes.
One partner escalates—criticizes, pursues, demands.
The other withdraws—shuts down, distances, threatens to leave.
Someone says, “Maybe we should just divorce.”
The room tightens.
Then something shifts. A collapse. A reassurance. A tearful “I don’t actually want to lose you.”
Relief floods the system.
Closeness returns.
Oxytocin hums quietly in the background.
Temporary bonding.
Until the next trigger.
Trigger → panic → escalation or withdrawal → divorce threat → reassurance → relief → repeat.
When clinicians frame this as manipulation, we miss the mechanism. When we frame it as pure ambivalence, we miss the physiology.
The divorce threat is often not a strategy to leave. It is a strategy to downshift unbearable overwhelm.
“I’m done” can mean:
I am flooded.
I feel powerless.
I need leverage.
I need reassurance that I matter.
It is rarely a carefully planned legal decision in the moment it is spoken. It is a nervous system flaring.
Now let’s add the nerdy layer.
Intermittent reinforcement.
The same principle that keeps people pulling a slot machine lever shows up in volatile attachment systems. Inconsistent reward—closeness followed by rupture followed by closeness—can intensify bonding. The unpredictability heightens salience. The relief after rupture feels disproportionately powerful.
This is not destiny. It is not pathology. It is a working theory that explains why some couples feel more bonded after a fight than after a peaceful week.
Calm can feel neutral.
Reconciliation can feel electric.
And electric often gets misinterpreted as depth.
Our clinical job is not to shame the cycle. It is to make it visible.
Because once the couple can see the loop, we can shift from arguing about content to treating the pattern itself.
The question becomes:
Are we trying to end the relationship…
or are we trying to end the overwhelm?
That distinction changes everything.
Nervous Systems on Fire
When high conflict couples escalate, they are not choosing chaos. They are experiencing threat.
Cortisol rises. Heart rate increases. The prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for nuance, empathy, and remembering why they got married—loses influence. The amygdala, our internal smoke detector, does not care about nuance. It cares about survival.
Conflict becomes survival.
Polyvagal theory gives us a useful translation layer here. Not as buzzwords. As pattern recognition.
Fight shows up as criticism, contempt, sharpness.
Flight shows up as withdrawal, shutdown, or threats to leave.
Freeze looks deceptively calm—flat tone, emotional absence, eyes glazing over.
Fawn appears as “It’s fine, let’s drop it” without repair.
High conflict couples often ping-pong between these states in rapid succession. One partner escalates into fight. The other flips into flight. Then freeze. Then fight again.
The content of the argument becomes irrelevant. The physiology is driving the interaction.
If both nervous systems are above threshold, insight work will fail. You can gently reflect childhood wounds all you want. Their brains are not online for reflection.
Regulation before resolution.
Always.
Now let’s talk about something less discussed: calm intolerance.
Some couples genuinely do not trust stability. Peace feels suspicious. It can feel like the quiet before abandonment. Or like emotional distance. Or like the absence of passion.
If someone grew up in chaos, their nervous system may code intensity as aliveness. Calm feels foreign. And what feels foreign can feel unsafe.
So they unconsciously stir the pot.
Not because they enjoy conflict. Because their body recognizes intensity as familiar.
When we slow sessions down, lower our tone, and bring the focus back to physical sensation, we are not avoiding the issue. We are widening the window of tolerance. We are teaching their bodies that connection does not require combustion.
And this is where therapists often get pulled into the speed of the couple. We start talking faster. Intervening faster. Thinking faster.
High conflict work requires the opposite.
You slow down first.
You regulate first.
They borrow your nervous system until they can access their own.
Once physiology settles, we can move deeper. And deeper, with these couples, means shadow.
Shadow Projection in Stereo
High conflict couples are rarely fighting each other.
They are fighting the parts of themselves they have not integrated.
Projection is one of the psyche’s most efficient defense mechanisms. If I cannot tolerate a trait in myself—neediness, control, vulnerability, selfishness—I can locate it in you. Then I can attack it safely from the outside.
Suddenly, the room fills with labels.
“You’re so controlling.”
“You’re so emotionally unavailable.”
“You’re selfish.”
“You’re impossible.”
Notice how quickly these turn into identities rather than behaviors.
This is shadow work without the incense.
Jung described the shadow as the disowned aspects of self—traits we reject because they threaten our identity or early survival strategies. In high conflict couples, shadow material tends to polarize.
One becomes The Pursuer. The other becomes The Distancer.
One embodies The Judge. The other becomes The Martyr.
One plays The Abandoner. The other clings as The Panicked Child.
Archetypes take the wheel.
Projection feels convincing because it contains truth. The partner is acting controlling. The partner is withdrawing. But projection inflates the behavior into a fixed identity.
The therapeutic pivot is subtle and powerful:
Shift from content to pattern.
Shift from accusation to inquiry.
Instead of tracking who forgot what, ask:
“What feels most threatened in you right now?”
“When your partner pulls away, what story does your body tell?”
“What part of you feels exposed in this moment?”
You are not invalidating behavior. You are expanding awareness.
High conflict couples often resist this move at first. Projection is stabilizing. It keeps the psyche organized. If I am right and you are wrong, I feel momentarily secure.
But when both partners begin reclaiming disowned traits—“I can be controlling when I feel scared” or “I withdraw when I feel ashamed”—the charge shifts.
The enemy stops being the person across from them.
It becomes the loop between them.
Shadow work does not soften conflict overnight. It deepens it. It makes it conscious.
And conscious conflict is workable.
Now we step into a developmental layer that often sits underneath all of this.
Differentiation.
Because projection thrives where differentiation is thin.
Differentiation and Emotional Fusion
Differentiation sounds academic. It isn’t.
It’s the ability to stay emotionally connected to someone without losing your own center.
High conflict couples often struggle here.
When one partner escalates, the other escalates.
When one collapses, the other either rescues or retaliates.
When one panics, the other absorbs the panic or rejects it.
That’s emotional fusion.
Fusion feels intense. It can even feel intimate. But it is reactive closeness, not grounded connection.
In a fused system, individuality feels threatening. Disagreement feels destabilizing. Autonomy feels like abandonment.
Differentiation is quieter. It’s the ability to say, “I see you’re activated, and I am staying here with you without matching your activation.” It’s holding your own emotional temperature steady even when the room heats up.
This is growth work. This is adulthood.
For high conflict couples, differentiation is often underdeveloped because their early attachment environments didn’t allow it. If love once required hypervigilance, compliance, or intensity, calm autonomy can feel disloyal.
As therapists, we model differentiation before we teach it.
We don’t take sides.
We don’t over-identify with the quieter partner.
We don’t escalate to manage their escalation.
We hold the frame when they test it.
And they will test it.
High conflict couples often attempt to triangulate the therapist—pulling for alliance, validation, or subtle endorsement. If you slip into referee mode, the cycle expands to include you.
Your steadiness becomes the intervention.
When one partner begins escalating, you slow your tone. You ground your posture. You lower the temperature of the room.
Differentiation is contagious when modeled consistently.
And here’s the nuance: differentiation does not mean emotional distance. It does not mean detachment. It means regulated presence.
You can be close without being consumed.
When couples begin to taste that—when they experience a moment of disagreement without catastrophic escalation—it can feel almost anticlimactic.
Which brings us to the fork in the road.
Because not every high conflict couple is ready for repair.
Some are still deciding whether they want to stay.
Discernment vs. Repair
You cannot do deep repair work while divorce is being used as a weapon.
You just can’t.
High conflict couples often oscillate between reconciliation and exit threats. If separation is casually introduced during escalation, the attachment system never stabilizes long enough for repair to take root.
This is where clarity matters.
Are we in discernment work—or repair work?
Discernment counseling is appropriate when one or both partners are genuinely ambivalent about staying. The focus is not communication skills. It is decision-making. Exploration. Accountability. Ownership of personal contribution to the dynamic.
Repair-focused couples therapy requires a baseline agreement:
We are here to work on this relationship.
That agreement does not mean guaranteed permanence. It means the therapy room is not a courtroom.
If a partner repeatedly weaponizes divorce during activation, that becomes the intervention target. Not the dishwasher. Not the in-laws. Not the missed text.
The threat itself is the material.
Practical agreements can help stabilize the frame:
No divorce threats during heated moments.
Structured time-outs that regulate rather than punish.
Clear boundaries around contempt and character assassination.
These are not rigid rules. They are containment structures.
And containment is kindness in high conflict work.
Couples therapy requires a minimum threshold of safety and accountability. If one partner consistently refuses responsibility, engages in chronic contempt, or exerts coercive control, the work changes. At that point, you may be shifting toward individual therapy, discernment, or safety planning rather than relational repair.
Beyond safety, there is also readiness.
Before engaging in repair-focused work, it is worth asking quietly and directly:
Are both partners willing to examine their contribution to the cycle?
Is contempt interruptible when it surfaces?
Can each partner tolerate even brief pauses without escalating further?
Couples therapy is not simply about willingness to stay. It is about willingness to look inward.
If self-examination is consistently deflected or regulation repeatedly collapses beyond containment, the modality may need to shift before meaningful repair can begin.
If escalation consistently overrides containment, couples therapy may not be the appropriate modality at this stage.
That is not a failure of the couple. It is a clinical assessment of readiness.
The therapist’s discernment is as important as the couple’s.
High conflict couples can improve dramatically. But only when both partners are willing to look at their contribution to the cycle. Mutual dysregulation is workable. Unilateral dominance is not.
When the frame is clear, we can move into something tangible.
Because theory is beautiful. But high conflict sessions require tools.
Let’s anchor this in the body.
Remember, discernment isn’t giving up. It’s reducing noise so a real decision can emerge.
Somatic Anchors for Escalation
High conflict couples do not need better arguments.
They need better nervous system exits.
When escalation begins, most partners move straight into narrative. The story gets louder. The logic gets sharper. The history gets longer. Suddenly we are arguing about something that happened in 2014 with impressive emotional clarity.
You interrupt the story by interrupting the physiology.
Here is a simple anchor that sounds almost too basic to work. It works.
Both partners place their feet flat on the ground.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
Then each names five physical sensations in their body.
Not thoughts.
Not interpretations.
Not accusations.
Just sensation.
“My chest feels tight.”
“My hands are hot.”
“My stomach feels hollow.”
“My jaw is clenched.”
“My shoulders feel heavy.”
The brain hates this exercise when activated. That is precisely why it works. It shifts activity away from narrative escalation and toward interoception—the awareness of internal bodily states. When attention returns to the body, the stress response begins to decelerate.
No insight required. No apology required.
Just regulation.
You can build this into session structure. The moment voices rise, you pause the content. You guide them into sensation. You slow your own tone first. You let silence stretch a little longer than feels comfortable.
Other anchors can layer in:
A structured 20-minute time-out with a guaranteed return time. Not storming off. A regulated pause with a re-entry plan.
Breath pacing in session. You model a slower cadence and invite them to follow.
Even something as simple as lowering your own volume. Humans co-regulate unconsciously. When you slow, they often slow.
These tools are not glamorous. They are not viral social media advice. They are repetitive and slightly boring.
Which is the point.
High conflict couples are accustomed to intensity. Calm feels suspicious. Regulation feels anticlimactic.
But stability is built on anticlimactic moments.
Somatic work teaches their bodies that connection does not require combustion. That disagreement does not require collapse. That discomfort does not require exit.
And when their physiology stabilizes even briefly, the deeper work becomes possible.
Of course, while all this is happening, something else is happening too.
Inside you.
Let’s talk about that.
Containment Language: Scripts for the High-Conflict Moment
High conflict sessions rarely fail because of theory.
They derail because of speed.
In the moment escalation spikes, clinicians do not need more conceptual frameworks. They need language that holds the frame without escalating it.
Scripts are not robotic. They are structure. And structure regulates.
Here are phrases that interrupt the loop without shaming the couple.
When divorce is weaponized:
“I’m noticing that the idea of leaving shows up when the intensity rises. Before we move toward decisions, let’s understand what’s happening underneath this moment.”
This reframes the threat as data, not destiny.
When contempt surfaces:
“I want to pause here. Anger is workable. Contempt shuts down repair. Let’s express the frustration without attacking character.”
You are not policing emotion. You are protecting the process.
When escalation overrides regulation:
“Neither of you can access reflection right now. Let’s return to the body before we continue this conversation.”
You are naming physiology, not failure.
When triangulation begins:
“I’m not here to determine who is right. I’m here to understand the pattern between you.”
This keeps you out of the referee role.
When urgency pushes for immediate resolution:
“We don’t solve high-intensity problems at high intensity. We stabilize first.”
Simple. Clear. Regulating.
When modeling differentiation in real time:
“I can feel the energy rising in the room. I’m going to slow my pace so we can widen this moment.”
You regulate aloud. You lead by nervous system.
Notice what these scripts have in common.
They:
- Slow the process.
- Name the pattern.
- Avoid blame.
- Reinforce containment.
- Keep the therapist out of alliance traps.
High conflict couples will test the walls of the room. Language is part of the architecture.
Containment is not about control. It is about structure strong enough to hold intensity without collapsing into it.
And sometimes, a single steady sentence is the difference between combustion and repair.
Therapist Countertransference and Burnout
If you work with high conflict couples long enough, you will feel it in your body.
The pull to side with the quieter partner.
The irritation at the one who keeps escalating.
The rescue fantasy.
The subtle dread before session.
High conflict dynamics are contagious. The intensity in the room does not politely stop at the edge of your nervous system.
These couples will test the container.
They will pull for alliance.
They will look at you after saying something cutting, waiting for affirmation.
They will frame themselves as the reasonable one.
If you become the referee, the triangle expands.
If you become the rescuer, the pattern deepens.
If you subtly align with the more regulated partner, you risk reinforcing the very polarization you are trying to dismantle.
Differentiation applies to us, too.
You stay grounded when they escalate.
You resist urgency when they push for verdicts.
You slow down when they speed up.
Your nervous system becomes the stabilizer.
And that requires maintenance.
High conflict work can be draining because it demands constant regulation. You are tracking physiology, power dynamics, attachment wounds, projection, and your own internal reactions simultaneously.
Supervision is not optional in this terrain. Consultation keeps perspective intact. Awareness of your own relational history matters. If you grew up in chaos, these sessions may feel oddly familiar. If you avoid conflict in your personal life, you may overcorrect toward containment.
Know your edges.
Burnout often happens not because the couples are impossible, but because we silently over-function. We hold more than the frame requires.
Containment does not mean absorbing their volatility. It means structuring it.
You are not responsible for stabilizing their marriage.
You are responsible for stabilizing the therapeutic process.
And sometimes that means saying:
“We cannot move forward if contempt continues in this way.”
“We need to clarify whether you are here for repair or decision-making.”
“We need to slow this down.”
Clear boundaries are regulating.
When you hold the frame consistently, even the most volatile couples begin to test it less.
Because storms push hardest against weak walls.
And strong containment is oddly calming.
Which brings us to one of the most persistent myths in high conflict work.
Intensity is often mistaken for depth.
Let’s dismantle that.
Theoretical Lenses That Support High-Conflict Work
High conflict couples rarely respond to a single, pure modality.
They are complex systems under stress. Which means we often work integratively—whether we name it that way or not.
Below are theoretical orientations that tend to be particularly useful in high-conflict dynamics, and why.
Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT)
High conflict is often attachment panic in motion.
EFT helps translate protest behaviors into attachment language. The pursuer is not “too much.” The withdrawer is not “uncaring.” Both are protecting against perceived abandonment.
EFT is especially useful for:
Slowing escalation into primary emotion Tracking attachment injuries Reframing divorce threats as attachment protest
If divorce threats are frequent, ask:
What attachment fear just got activated?
Bowen Family Systems (Differentiation)
High conflict couples often struggle with differentiation—the ability to remain connected without becoming emotionally fused.
Bowen’s framework helps you:
Track emotional reactivity Identify multigenerational anxiety patterns Encourage self-regulation within connection
When reactivity escalates, differentiation is thin.
This lens shifts the work from “fix your partner” to “regulate yourself while staying present.”
Polyvagal-Informed / Somatic Approaches
When both nervous systems are above threshold, insight will not land.
Polyvagal theory provides a framework for recognizing:
Fight (criticism, contempt) Flight (threats to leave) Freeze (shutdown masked as calm) Fawn (premature smoothing without repair)
Somatic interventions—breath pacing, interoceptive tracking, structured pauses—are not secondary tools. They are foundational in high conflict work.
Regulation before resolution.
Behavioral Principles (Intermittent Reinforcement)
High conflict couples often become bonded through rupture–repair oscillation.
The relief that follows intense conflict can function as variable reinforcement, strengthening attachment intensity. Calm may feel neutral by comparison.
Understanding reinforcement cycles:
Normalizes why volatility can feel addictive Explains the rupture–reconciliation swing Prevents therapists from romanticizing intensity
Gottman Method (Especially Around Contempt)
Contempt is corrosive. High conflict couples often normalize it.
Gottman’s research supports:
Clear boundaries around contempt Structured de-escalation Repair attempts
Even if you don’t practice Gottman strictly, the containment around contempt is clinically protective.
Jungian / Depth-Oriented Work (Projection & Shadow)
High conflict couples frequently project disowned traits onto one another.
Projection work becomes useful once regulation stabilizes.
Depth approaches help:
Move from accusation to ownership Explore archetypal roles (Pursuer, Abandoner, Martyr, Judge) Integrate shadow aspects rather than externalizing them
This deepens the work beyond symptom management.
Discernment Counseling
Not every high conflict couple is ready for repair.
When ambivalence is present, discernment counseling provides structure for decision-making rather than premature intervention.
Without clarity around commitment, therapy becomes adversarial.
An Integrative Stance
High conflict couples often require:
Attachment awareness.
Differentiation.
Nervous system tracking.
Containment boundaries.
Behavioral insight.
Depth exploration.
The modality matters less than your ability to track the cycle and regulate the room.
The theory is scaffolding.
Containment is the structure.
And your nervous system is the stabilizer.
Intensity Is Not Depth
High conflict couples often describe their relationship as “passionate.”
There is fire. There are tears. There are dramatic reconciliations that feel cinematic. There are moments of closeness after rupture that feel almost transcendent.
It is easy—for them and sometimes for us—to mistake that intensity for depth.
It isn’t.
Adrenaline is not intimacy.
Volatility is not vulnerability.
Relief after threat is not repair.
The rupture-reconciliation swing can feel powerful because it activates the attachment system. When a bond feels threatened and then restored, the nervous system floods with relief. That relief can be misinterpreted as profound connection.
But depth is quieter.
Depth looks like tolerating discomfort without escalation.
It looks like disagreement without character assassination.
It looks like staying in the room when shame rises instead of reaching for leverage.
Many high conflict couples fear that calm means boredom. Or disconnection. Or emotional death.
In reality, calm often means safety.
And safety is what allows intimacy to grow roots.
This is where we normalize the oscillation without romanticizing it. These couples are not broken because they escalate. They are patterned. The pattern makes sense in the context of their histories.
But making sense does not make it sustainable.
If intensity is the only felt marker of aliveness, the relationship will require periodic combustion to feel real.
Our work is to expand their tolerance for steadiness.
To teach their nervous systems that connection does not require crisis. That depth is built through repeated, regulated repair—not through adrenaline spikes.
And when that shift begins to happen, something interesting unfolds.
Arguments still occur. Triggers still exist.
But the temperature changes.
Which brings us back to where we started.
Holding the Storm Without Becoming It
Remember the couple from the beginning.
Week one: hopeful.
Week two: divorce threats.
The storm is still there. High conflict couples do not transform into placid lakes overnight. But when regulation improves, when projection becomes conscious, when differentiation strengthens, the storm stops dictating the climate.
The argument still sparks.
The trigger still lands.
But escalation shortens.
Repair comes sooner.
Threats lose their leverage.
The therapist’s job is not to eliminate conflict. It is to contain it long enough for consciousness to enter.
The cycle is the client.
Not the individual flaws.
Not the latest accusation.
Not the dishwasher.
When we treat the loop—regulation first, projection second, differentiation third—the relationship has a chance to reorganize.
High conflict couples are not dramatic caricatures. They are two nervous systems trying desperately to feel safe with each other.
Our work is not to calm the weather. It is to build structures that can withstand it.
Storms happen.
They do not get to dictate whether the structure survives.
A Companion Field Guide for the Storm
High-conflict sessions move quickly.
Insight evaporates under adrenaline. Differentiation collapses under urgency. Even seasoned clinicians can feel the speed of the room pulling at their nervous system.
So I created a companion handout.
Not as a worksheet. Not as a theory download. As a field guide.
A concise, one-page reference that names what may be happening psychologically when divorce threats, contempt, oscillation, and triangulation begin to surface. It outlines the likely attachment activation, autonomic shifts, projection dynamics, and reinforcement cycles in motion. It also gives you containment language you can actually use when the temperature rises.
Because when escalation spikes, we don’t need more concepts. We need structure.
The handout is designed to:
- Help you recognize rupture–reconciliation oscillation in real time
- Anchor you in regulation before resolution
- Clarify discernment versus repair
- Provide short scripts that reinforce the frame
- Remind you that readiness matters
Think of it as architectural support for the room.
Our work is not to calm the weather. It is to build structures that can withstand it.
You can download the High-Conflict Couples Quick Reference Guide below and keep it nearby for sessions that move fast.
Sometimes the most powerful intervention is not a brilliant interpretation.
It’s one steady sentence delivered at regulated speed.
TL;DR for Clinicians
High conflict couples are not primarily inconsistent in commitment. They are inconsistent in regulation.
The “I’m done” → “We’re fine” oscillation is often a nervous system cycle, not a character flaw. Divorce threats frequently function as attempts to downshift overwhelm rather than genuine exit strategies.
Before beginning repair work:
- Distinguish high conflict from abuse. Assess for power, coercion, and safety.
- Clarify whether the couple is in discernment or repair.
- Evaluate readiness: Are both partners willing to examine their contribution? Is contempt interruptible? Can they tolerate even brief pauses without escalation?
In high conflict dynamics:
- Treat the cycle, not the content.
- Work regulation before resolution.
- Expect projection and emotional fusion.
- Model differentiation.
- Use somatic anchors to interrupt escalation.
- Monitor your own countertransference.
Intensity is not depth. Adrenaline is not intimacy. Stability may feel unfamiliar, but it is the foundation for sustainable connection.
Our role is not to eliminate storms. It is to build therapeutic structures strong enough to contain them.
Written by Jen Hyatt, a licensed psychotherapist at Storm Haven Counseling & Wellness in Temecula, California.
Disclaimer
This article and accompanying handout are intended for educational purposes only and are designed to support licensed mental health professionals in their clinical thinking.
They are not a substitute for formal training, supervision, consultation, or clinical judgment. The concepts and scripts provided here are general guidelines and may not be appropriate for every couple or clinical context.
High conflict dynamics can sometimes overlap with coercive control, intimate partner violence, or safety concerns. Therapists are responsible for conducting thorough assessments and adhering to their professional, ethical, and legal obligations within their jurisdiction.
If escalation consistently overrides containment, or if safety concerns are present, couples therapy may not be the appropriate modality at that stage.
Nothing in this material establishes a therapeutic relationship, provides legal advice, or replaces individualized professional consultation.
Use discernment. Seek supervision when needed. Protect the frame.
The Nerdie Therapist 
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