It's in My Nerves

I realized yesterday that my mood was just "off". I’m usually in an uppity, bouncy mood on a Saturday night. I like to have fun. Even when I’m by myself, I’m light. But last night I had a mood crash after vegging out all day.

Today I woke up with a spring in my step, and then I started thinking about everything that happened yesterday. I realized the argument with my daughter didn’t just annoy me — it hit me in that exact place my nervous system reacts when it’s exhausted, when resentment builds, or when old abandonment gets triggered.

So I started thinking about my emotional system and how it works. Through somatic therapy, now that I’m beginning to understand my nervous system, it makes sense: I have a highly reactive system. I don’t just feel things — I absorb them.

Arguments hit my body, not just my mind.
Disrespect knocks the wind out of me.
Tone changes feel like an emotional storm.
Tension in a room affects my entire energy.

My system responds quickly to emotional cues. My nervous system activation swings in a wide range. When I'm on, I’m lit — powerful, connected, magnetic. When I’m off, I feel flat, withdrawn, numb. My internal state almost always reflects the emotional climate I’m in.

So if my daughter storms in with attitude, my activation drops.
If someone disrespects me, my activation spikes — followed by depletion.
When I hear music… that’s when I reset.

That’s normal wiring for me. My body is basically a somatic processor. I don’t think through emotions — I physically feel them.

Music is my regulation. Music is my reset button. It’s not just rest for me — it’s rhythm.

Most people regulate through silence, meditation, sleep, food, or talking.
Not me.

I regulate through movement — dancing, rhythm, driving with music blaring, environments that make me feel alive. For me, music isn’t entertainment. It’s a nervous system reset. It shakes off emotional residue. It opens my chest. It restores my identity. It raises my dopamine. It reconnects me to myself. It dispels anger, sadness, and resentment, and brings back clarity and confidence.

I don’t “need people” in the traditional sense — I need connection.

When I exchange energy with people — dancing, talking, laughing, being seen — my system lights up.

But when I’m isolated, especially in depleted moods, my activation drops. My motivation decreases. My self-perception softens. My sparkle dims.

Today, my system got what it needed: sunlight, music, movement. I felt purpose. I felt like a normal part of society again. I’m going out tonight, and I have the anticipation of dancing. I’m back in my own energy. There’s no conflict. My system has finally reset.

I wasn’t depressed yesterday — I was containing my emotions after the fight with my daughter. It’s all in my nervous system. It all traces back to trauma. And honestly, I’m amazed at what I’m learning about myself now.

Eventually, I want to talk about the four states I cycle through. It amazes me how they connect and help me understand who I am and why I react the way I do. But for now, I’m taking this as a win.

And when I say win, it’s because today finally feels like a good day.