Emotions

So, unless my body magically decided to forgo all precedent and physiological indicators and ovulate a couple days earlier than the earliest I have ever recorded without telling me, I'm not pregnant.  (Note--this means I am not pregnant, but my condition--hypopregnia--compels me to include a disclaimer acknowledging that my mental gymnast is sufficiently acrobatic to come up with plausible justification for believing myself so.)  But yesterday I really, really, really wanted to say I was.

There was a brief discussion among the adults in my house yesterday about where an item should be put in the kitchen.  I (ridiculously) got my feelings hurt.  And I wanted to just let it go, but I couldn't.  Later on, Kevin and I escaped to run errands and grocery shop for a date.  As we pulled into the parking lot of Lowes, I didn't want to get out because I was still dealing with the emotional upheaval of earlier.  So I started talking through it with him.  It was a stupid little thing, but I couldn't let the conversation go and I was mad at myself for being so stupid about it.  And the more I got mad at myself the stupider I felt and the madder I got, and I ended up sobbing hysterically while pointedly looking away from Kevin because I didn't want to see him or let him touch me.  And I wanted SOOO BAAAADLY to just be pregnant so I could say, "It's just hormones.  I don't really feel this way." And then I could be over it.  But because I didn't have an excuse for feeling so bizarrely awful I had to pick it apart to find the root, and I wasn't finding one, so I just kept feeling awful.

I told Kevin I just wanted to punch something.  I feel that way sometimes, especially when I hear about cruel stupidity, but I usually just get over the feeling.  But I really wanted to actually punch something this time.  Kevin offered me his shoulder.  At first I refused, and I felt better that he was being so kind.  We laughed together about being pregnant/not being pregnant.  Then I got out of the car, walked around to his door, opened it, and said, "Get out so I can punch you."  Then I couldn't wait for him to get out, and I punched him in the shoulder while he was getting unbuckled.  Then he got out of the car and I punched him a lot of times.  I didn't want to actually hurt him, but it felt so good to let my arms spasm out the emotions that just wouldn't go away.  I did a lot of awkward girly-punches that took energy to throw but didn't land with too much force.  And he was a very good sport and just let me hit him.  And we both laughed.  Why have I not punched my husband sooner?  I was able to let go of the emotions, recognizing that whatever the cause of the unfounded feelings, they were unfounded and I didn't have to figure out where they came from--I can have all the hormones I want even without being pregnant.  And the rest of the evening on our errand-date I felt light and almost giddy.  That feeling after such an inexplicable downer was almost as disturbing.  I wanted to dance and giggle and kiss the world.  Mostly I kissed Kevin.  And rode the cart like a scooter.

Do you have days like that, where your emotions are all wonky without your consent and no known hormonal issues or deep stressors to explain it?