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To add insult to injury, I feel so clichéd

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To add insult to injury, I feel so clichéd

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Ah, you stupid body. I am having a hard enough time - I don't need to add mood swings into the mix.

My responses feel completely out of whack right now. I followed up a fine evening out with friends last night by crying myself to sleep over something that had no business even bothering me, or at most was worth an earnest five minute discussion of root causes. That's what I would have preferred, and I felt that I had no power to stop the excess that occurred instead.

My halfassed theory is that the body needs a balance of neurochemicals, and if the thinking part isn't triggering the right mix of feelings, the body enforces its own balance by overlaying baseless emotions just to elicit the hormones - or puts out the scheduled hormones and the feelings occur as a result, I don't know enough about neurophysiology to know which is cause and which is result, though my layman's guess is that it can work both ways. Halfassed or not, this is as good an explanation as any for the unreasoning bursts of happiness and sadness that I occasionally feel. I certainly perceive them as being part of some self-correcting system.

Whatever else is true, it seems pretty clear that, as predicted for my mid-thirties, my hormones have ripened. Right now, my brain is swimming in a superpowered chemical bath - which is the case every day of my life, really, but this one is DIFFERENT from most of the time and I don't like the switch. I like that bath phrasing, because the brain sure does emerge occasionally as the Joker. Every succeeding month it seems harder to bear; the recent accumulation of stress and anxiety is probably making it worse. Most of the time I still feel pretty good despite my difficulties, but not last night.

I want to transcend this and I don't know how. Maybe having an actual sex life would help.
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