Chasing That Rush

“Every time I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down, ‘cause I just can’t wait till you write me you’re coming around” – Katrina and the Waves

I love dopamine. For those who aren’t the research nerd that I am, dopamine is a neurotransmitter that plays a role in how we feel pleasure. It rewards us for pursuing things we don’t have yet, and responds to things that are new or possible. It helps us think, plan, and focus. It affects learning, motivation, sleep, mood, attention, and even pain. It fuels the parts of us that want to explore, discover, chase, find, have and try. And once we have done those things it stops, leaving us looking for the next new thing, our next big ‘hit’.

I’m not rich enough to be a shopaholic, I don’t do drugs, and I’m not jumping out of planes, but over the years I have stumbled onto another way to get that dopamine high – new relationships. The polyamory community refers to it as new relationship energy, but it is more commonly known as the honeymoon period. It’s that time at the start of any relationship where everything is new; new feelings, new stories, new experiences, new people, and in the case of romantic relationships, new sex.  There is a seemingly endless supply of new things to learn, explore, and discover about your new friend, partner, or potential partner, and that intoxicating feeling of connecting with someone new mixed with that rush of new hormones is hard to beat.

So what happens when that high wears off? 

Some people never stop chasing the high. We all know them. It’s that person in your life who makes a new friend or finds a new partner and suddenly their lives become entirely focused around that person. They will cancel existing plans to spend time with them, can’t make new plans without checking first to make sure that person isn’t available, and can’t seem to talk about anything but their new person when you finally do spend time together. Everything in their life becomes about this person. And then the dopamine wears off, the new person becomes less interesting, and they are back to being the friend you used to have. Until the next new person comes along.  

These relationships aren’t only hard on the chaser’s friends, they are also incredibly hard on the chaser’s subject, the focus of their excitement. For a brief period they get to feel like the most interesting person in the world. Like they have found someone who really sees them, likes them, and can’t get enough of them. Until suddenly they are gone. And the subject is left feeling rejected, alone, and in many cases confused about what they did that resulted in this change. And when both partners are caught up in the rush, and are both caught up in that excitement to the exclusion of everything else, it becomes even more complicated, because no one can really explain why things ended. 

I have been in all of these positions. I have been the chaser, I have been the subject, and I have been the friend watching this happen over and over and over again. I have hurt people, I have been hurt by people, and I have watched people I love hurt others and get hurt by others. And it sucks. No matter what position I am in, it sucks. Every time I would think “this one is different, this one will work out, this time the connection will last”. And it wouldn’t. Because even if the potential for real connection was there at the beginning it had been washed away by the flood of dopamine telling me to do everything and have everything and be everything right now. 

One of the most important things I have learned from my wasted years of immersing myself in that rush is to slow down. A lot. Not because I’m trying to ignore the dopamine, but because I’m trying to draw it out, make space around it, and allow actual feelings and connections to grow in that space. To enjoy the rush a little longer, but also to give my new relationships a chance to find a connection within that time that will carry on past the end of the rush. So that other different highs can follow it. Because as great as that dopamine rush is, it absolutely pales in comparison to finding people you really connect with, who actually get you, and who like you for who you are, not just for how you made them feel at the start. And as good as “new” is, attachment, companionship, and if you are lucky enough to find it, love, are so much better. Because once you find those connections you can find new ways to experience that dopamine, together. 

Is Love a Drug?

“Might as well face it, you’re addicted to love.” – Robert Palmer

New love is an amazing thing. It’s warm, fuzzy, comforting, and makes you smile at the most random times during the day. You will find yourself humming miscellaneous Sarah McLachlan songs, replaying romantic comedy scenes in your mind with yourself as the lead, and endlessly googling to find just the right pet names to describe your person. Colors are brighter, food smells better, and regardless of how shitty your mattress was last week now all you want is to be in bed with your partner. You feel wanted, cared for, desirable, and happy, all the time. It becomes hard to remember a time before you felt this way, and difficult to relate to people who don’t. And all you want all the time is more of that feeling. 

This kind of obsession and preoccupation with anything else would be considered an addiction, and something to be avoided, treated, or cured. Physically ‘falling in love’ triggers exactly the same feel good hormones as many drugs; dopamine, oxytocin, opioids, and serotonin. Relationships follow a similar path as addiction. In the beginning everything feels great, like your first dose of something wonderful. As relationships develop we build up a resistance to those hormones, and it becomes harder and harder to feel the same hit that we did at the beginning. When the relationship ends and the break up happens we suffer withdrawal symptoms, which combined with stress hormones make us feel sick and leave us looking for our next fix. We do everything we can to find that ‘feel good’ feeling again. 

Despite all of this evidence we as a society are in love with being in love. Countless books have been published on how to find it, endless songs have been written trying to describe it, and there are always new movies coming out telling us stories about it. We spend our lives chasing it when we don’t have it, and wallowing in it when we do. So does this mean love is a drug that we misuse and abuse, or are we smart enough to know a good thing when we see it and hang on?

We have all seen the people out there who react to falling in love like an addict does to their drug. Take a look at the short term serial monogamist. They meet someone, fall in love, are deliriously happy, and yet a short time later the relationship ends, and they are on to the next ‘love of their life’. They are addicted to that initial dose of love, but lose interest when the hormonal reaction starts to drop off, and they go out looking for something similar but just different enough to count as new. Or look at those couples that are so wrapped up in each other that they forget about everything else in their life. They become completely dependent on each other for their happiness and have difficulty finding it anywhere else, much like an addict becomes dependent on their elixir of choice. Their only positive emotion comes from their partner, and it becomes an unhealthy obsession and attachment that can be extremely difficult to break.

Does this mean we should all start avoiding love, out of fear of developing our own addictions? Of course not. Love doesn’t only feel good; it can also be very good for you. It can help you build a more positive self-image, introduce you to new ways of thinking and living, and give you a feeling of security and support that you may not be able to find anywhere else. These are all good things. So how do you know if this love is a good one, or an addictive one? Keep in mind a few key points. A healthy relationship isn’t possessive and is based on mutual respect; encourages growth and serious interests outside of the relationship; leaves you feeling improved by the relationship and not stifled by it; and is a part of your life, rather than separate from it. There are millions of healthy, loving relationships out there, and like anything else we cannot let a few negative examples destroy our image of them.