Depression, Hormones or the Power of Injured Birds in Little Jumpers?

Egad, everything is making me cry at the moment.  People who know me in person and are accustomed to my usual brand of steely cheerfulness may be surprised by this.  It’s not even proper sobbing, with maybe some dabbing at the eyes with a lace hanky whilst pining over my lost love.  It’s not being SAD exactly.

It’s being unable to sing along to Frozen because I tear up after nine seconds.  It’s reading heart-warming stories about acts of charity and having to switch off because my chest hurts.

It’s seeing a picture of a black-headed gull with a poorly wing sitting in his little box in a rescue centre wearing a MOTHERFUCKING LITTLE GREEN JUMPER and having a total meltdown (Oh god that one was bad.  A TINY LITTLE JUMPER PEOPLE.  IT WAS CABLE KNIT).

Is this what people with normal emotional ranges feel like?  I’ve always wondered.