I know I'm not physically hurt. Though it feels like I've been kicked in the stomach with steel-toed boots, my abdomen isn't bruised. Spiking cortisol levels are causing my muscles to tense and diverting blood away from my gut, leading to this twisting, gnawing agony that I cannot stop thinking about. I can't stop crying. I can't move. I just stare at the ceiling, wondering when, if ever, this pain is going to go away.
It doesn't matter that my injuries are emotional. The term heartache isn't a metaphor: emotional wounds literally hurt. The exact same parts of the brain that light up when we're in physical pain go haywire when we experience rejection. As far as our neurons are concerned, emotional distress is physical trauma.
Evolutionary biologists would say that it's not surprising that our emotions have hijacked the pain system. As social creatures, mammals are dependent from birth ...
