In the presence of flooding, everything stops. When you are talking about actual water, the repercussions go on for weeks or months. Carpets get soggy, furniture is ruined. When my mother's apartment flooded the water rose so high it lifted the fridge and floated it across the room. I bet that was scary. She never lived in that space again. No one did. 

But in the context of relationships the term refers to overwhelming feelings. Your heart rate exceeds a hundred, the frontal cortex switches off, and your ability to listen to reason is compromised. Time to step back. 

When meeting with couples John and Julie Gottman place a pulsometer on each person's finger. If it goes into triple digits, the beeping starts. I have an app on my phone that measures pulse, and maybe I will get brave and use it. I am no athlete but I think an elevated pulse rate while exercising is an indication that your cardiovascular system is pumping hard in a good sense. But I digress.

When the emotions kick in with the amplitude that truncates reason, it is time for a reprieve. Thirty minutes is enough of a pause to bring your body back to center, if you are able to take a breath. Getting in the car and pushing the gas pedal hard is not a calming technique. 

Perhaps the crux is whether you have a muscle memory plan in place before the voices get loud.