When I experience emotions like sadness, anger, and even JOY, I feel them on a more intense level than the average person. It’s not because I choose to; it’s just how my brain is wired. Over the years, I have learned to manage how I respond to the intensity, but I still feel it. Due to my low levels of dopamine, I actively search for healthy ways to increase it consciously and subconsciously. Consciously, I replay a song I like over and over again, I try to spend as much time alone as I can, or I go on nature walks. Subconsciously, I suck my thumb, play with my ear, or someone’s elbow (don’t worry, these people are usually people I know). Most of the time, the thumb sucking and ear touching are paired with popping my other thumb. I’m not sure why, but if I had to guess, I would assume it’s some sort of sensory-seeking pattern. The way my fingertips search for a spot that’s just cold enough to calm me is a little ritual I never outgrew, and honestly, I’m glad I didn’t. I’d probably be in a “special” home if I had. When I bend my thumb just right until it makes a popping sound, it’s not a knuckle crack; it’s something else. A sound that feels like a small exhale. It’s strange, maybe. But it’s mine. And in those small moments, it brings me a joy that doesn’t ask for explanation.
In Quest of Her 