This blog was intended to be written from an ornery, forceful place, but endorphins have rushed in to sooth my capsaicin burn, thus "producing a feeling of well-being". And it hurts so good. Ohhhh yeah.
I can still, however, report on the pleasure associated with what is typically seen as an emotionally negative neurochemical event: a reduction in serotonin. This brain chemical helps us steer clear of depressive moods, compulsive behaviors and poor sleep patterns. It also keeps anger and aggression in check.
Last Friday the brain chemical gods sent a Baltimore riff raff to break into my car and steal my book bag, which contained the pills I take to increase my serotonin levels (I have struggled with mild to moderate depression for much of my life). It took a total of five days to obtain the refill, but by the time I picked it up I was starting to feel...alive?
Having also struggled with assertiveness over the years, and having tried this prescription for about 7 months now, I can say that the reduction in angry/aggressive feelings did make me less bothered by frustrating situations, but it also led to an added lack of drive toward redressing them.
So the pleasure I spoke of comes from a keen awareness of this sensation: I'm back, and I'm angry. I'm tired of not correcting people when they've incorrectly assessed my thoughts or emotions. I'm tired of not speaking up. Of not pushing for the information I need.
All this fiery enthusiasm could be a flash in this week's pan, and my heightened joie de vivre will likely be accompanied by deeper shades of upset when things go wrong (they don't call them mood stabilizers for nothin), but right now I invite it. I have shit to do, things to be inspired by...annoyed by, enchanted by, infuriated by. The emotions I experience have always been broad in scope, and it wasn't until this week that I realized how much I miss myself.