I don’t even know why I’m writing this, like, it feels so… juvenile? But it’s been bugging me all week, you know? Like, the memory just keeps playing on a loop. It was Sunday, I was trying to get a head start on the week – meal prep, laundry mountains, all the stuff that feels like a full-time job *before* my actual full-time job – and I just had the TV on for background noise. It was one of those really saccharine laundry detergent commercials, you know the type? Like, soft focus, kids playing in a field, everyone laughing, and then the mom sniffs a perfectly white sheet and gets this look of pure, unadulterated joy. And I just… started crying. Not like a little sniffle. I mean full-blown, ugly-crying, chest heaving, snot running down my face, sobbing. Over fabric softener. And of course, my brothers were in the living room, sprawled on the sofa, playing whatever ridiculously loud video game they’re obsessed with now. And they heard me, obviously. And immediately, the laughter started. Not like mean, bullying laughter, but that kind of dismissive, "Oh, *she’s* being emotional again" laughter. And I just felt this wave of… mortification? Like, it wasn't even just the crying, it was the *reason* for the crying. Like, what even *is* that? Is it a stress response? A symptom of emotional dysregulation? I literally have a performance review coming up where I’m expected to demonstrate "executive presence" and here I am, practically incapacitated by a household product advertisement. It’s like I have this internal barometer that just snaps sometimes, and I revert to being, like, a pre-teen. I just don't get it. I’m supposed to be at the top of my game, you know? Juggling everything, climbing the ladder, being all composed and cerebral. But then these random emotional outbursts hit, and I just feel completely disoriented. Like, what is the antecedent here? Is it just general fatigue? Am I experiencing some kind of delayed emotional response to… something? I just want to understand the mechanism behind it, because it’s embarrassing, and it makes me feel so out of control. And frankly, the last thing I need is my brothers thinking they've got another anecdote for family dinners about how I can't even handle a load of laundry without having a breakdown. I just wish I knew what was going on in my own head.