Dopamine, Cortisol, Oxytocin—Oh My! | Riding The Neurochemical Roller Coaster

September 14, 2025

Lately, my body and brain have been carrying me through a wild ride of highs and lows.

One night, I was wrapped in the flood of oxytocin and dopamine that emotional intimacy can bring—warmth, closeness, that temporary illusion of safety and belonging.

Two days later, awe washed through me in a way I’ll never forget: whales surrounding my kayak, singing and surfacing like the ocean was putting on a show just for us. Dopamine spiked again, wonder and aliveness coursing through my veins.

And then came the crash. At a storytelling event, I was cracked wide open—grief rising like a tide I couldn’t hold back. The grief of my father, my family’s store, my losses—all of it layered into my body, triggered by voices and stories that carried me straight back into the depths.

And layered into all of this: leadership stress. As school board president, I navigated school visits, morning walk-ins with people who hope I get recalled, and controversy over an executive session that drew scrutiny and ruffled feathers. These things were both fulfilling and hard; they came with adrenaline spikes, difficult conversations, and the weight of responsibility pressing on my shoulders.

So within days, I’ve cycled through it all:

• Oxytocin and dopamine lifting me high.

• Cortisol and adrenaline jolting me into stress.

• Tears and grief pulling me under.

Our brains don’t always distinguish between the highs of intimacy, awe, or stress. The chemistry is the same. The context is everything.

I’ve lived a roller coaster like this before,

in my last relationship.

That was a trauma bond.

A trauma bond is the powerful, addictive attachment that forms in toxic or abusive relationships. It’s built on a cycle of intermittent reinforcement: moments of affection, intimacy, or kindness (dopamine and oxytocin highs) followed by neglect, conflict, or betrayal (adrenaline and cortisol crashes). That push and pull wires the brain to crave the very person who causes the pain, creating a bond that feels unbreakable—like a drug.

Every high is laced with fear of the drop. Every low is sharpened by self-sacrifice and the desperate hope that the next high will last.

The chemicals were the same, but the context was toxic.

This time is different.

The roller coaster I’m on now is built from life itself: intimacy, awe, leadership pressure, grief. The dips aren’t proof of being trapped, they’re part of integration. The highs don’t require me to betray myself, they expand me. The lows don’t hollow me out, they remind me what matters.

And in the middle of it all, I am free.

I talk to friends. I exercise. I clean my house. I eat nourishing food. I set up my desk. I take care of myself. I create order inside and outside. I don’t abandon myself to keep the ride going. I participate in life.

The highs show me what’s possible.

The lows remind me what matters.

And the recovery in between? That’s where I find my strength.