It’s late. You’re staring at a screen or a ceiling, and suddenly, that heavy, familiar ache settles in your chest. You might feel like you’re the only person on the planet experiencing this specific brand of isolation, but here is the cold, hard biological truth: everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.
It’s not just a lyric from a famous R.E.M. song. It is a fundamental mechanic of being a primate with a highly developed prefrontal cortex. Pain is a universal language, yet we spend an enormous amount of energy trying to pretend we don't speak it. We treat emotional distress like a software glitch rather than a core feature of the operating system. If you aren't hurting occasionally, you aren't paying attention.
Pain is information. Crying is a biological release valve.
The Biology of Why Everybody Hurts Sometimes
When we talk about "hurting," we often separate physical pain from emotional pain. Science doesn't actually make that distinction as cleanly as we do. Research from the University of Michigan, specifically led by social psychologist Ethan Kross, found that the brain processes a social rejection—like a breakup or being excluded—in the same regions it processes physical pain. When you say your "heart hurts," your secondary somatosensory cortex and the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex are actually firing off. You aren't being dramatic. Your brain literally thinks you've been physically injured.
Evolutionarily, this made a lot of sense. For our ancestors, being cast out of the tribe was a death sentence. You couldn't hunt mammoths alone. So, the brain developed a way to make social "hurting" feel as urgent as a broken leg. It kept us together. Today, we don't have the same tribal structure, but those ancient neural pathways are still there, screaming at us when we feel lonely or undervalued.
What’s actually in a tear?
Not all tears are created equal. You have basal tears (the ones that keep your eyes moist) and reflex tears (the ones that happen when you chop an onion). But "emotional tears" are a different beast entirely.
Biochemist William H. Frey II performed some fascinating research into the chemistry of crying. He discovered that emotional tears contain higher levels of stress hormones, specifically adrenocorticotropic hormone (ACTH) and leucine-enkephalin (a natural painkiller). When you cry because you're overwhelmed, you are quite literally leaking stress out of your tear ducts. It is a detoxification process. This is why you often feel "wiped out" but strangely calm after a massive sob session. Your body just dumped a chemical load it couldn't carry anymore.
Why We Fight the Feeling
Society has a weird relationship with vulnerability. We’ve been conditioned to think that "holding it together" is the ultimate sign of strength. It’s not. It’s actually a sign of high physiological load.
When you suppress the fact that everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes, you’re just pushing that energy elsewhere. Dr. Gabor Maté, a renowned expert on the mind-body connection, has spent decades documenting how suppressed emotions manifest as physical ailments. If the mouth doesn't speak, the body will. Chronic stress from "toughing it out" leads to elevated cortisol, which wreaks havoc on your immune system.
People think crying is a sign of weakness. Honestly? It's the opposite. It takes a lot of internal courage to acknowledge that things are falling apart. The "stiff upper lip" is often just a mask for fear—fear that if we start crying, we might never stop.
But you will stop. You always do.
The Cultural Myth of Constant Happiness
We live in a "toxic positivity" era. Scroll through Instagram and you'll see a curated gallery of wins, vacations, and perfect lattes. This creates a psychological phenomenon called "social comparison," where we compare our internal "behind-the-scenes" footage with everyone else's "highlight reel."
It makes us feel broken when we hit a low point.
The truth is that sadness is a necessary contrast. Without the "hurting" parts, the "joyful" parts lose their texture. If every day was a 10/10, then a 10/10 eventually becomes a 0. We need the dip to appreciate the peak. This isn't just "live, laugh, love" fluff; it's the concept of homeostasis. Your psyche is constantly trying to find a balance.
Is crying actually good for you?
Yes. In a study published in the journal Emotion, researchers found that crying can actually regulate your heart rate. It activates the parasympathetic nervous system (PNS), which helps your body rest and digest.
- It releases oxytocin.
- It dulls pain.
- It signals to others that you need support.
That last point is crucial. Humans are social animals. When you see someone cry, your mirror neurons fire. You feel a pull to help. By hiding your pain, you’re actually robbing the people who love you of the chance to connect with you.
Understanding the "Why" Behind the Pain
Sometimes we hurt for a clear reason: a death, a job loss, a rejection. But other times, it's a "low-grade fever" of the soul. This is often the result of "micro-stressors" piling up.
Think of your emotional capacity like a bucket. A leaky faucet (a stressful commute), a sudden splash (a mean comment from a boss), and a slow rain (general world news) will eventually cause the bucket to overflow. You might end up crying over a dropped spoon, but you aren't really crying about the spoon. You're crying about the full bucket.
It’s important to recognize that everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes without a "valid" reason. You don't need a catastrophic event to justify feeling down. Sometimes, being human is just heavy.
When Does "Hurting" Become Something More?
While pain is universal, there is a line between the normal ebb and flow of human emotion and clinical depression or anxiety.
If the "hurting" doesn't lift after a few weeks, or if it's preventing you from eating, sleeping, or working, it’s no longer just a temporary state. It’s a medical condition. Major Depressive Disorder isn't just "feeling sad"; it's a persistent state of low energy and "anhedonia"—the inability to feel pleasure even in things you used to love.
There’s no shame in seeking professional help. You wouldn't try to fix a broken arm by "thinking positively," so don't try to fix a neurochemical imbalance that way either.
Navigating the Hard Days
So, what do you do when you’re in the middle of it? How do you handle the reality that everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes?
First, stop judging the feeling. When you feel that lump in your throat, don't ask, "Why am I being so sensitive?" Instead, say, "Okay, I'm feeling overwhelmed right now." Labeling the emotion reduces its power. Brain scans show that naming a feeling deescalates the amygdala, the brain's "alarm center."
Second, move. I know, it's the last thing you want to do. But emotional pain is often trapped energy. A ten-minute walk won't fix your problems, but it will change your physiology. It shifts you out of the "freeze" response.
Third, reach out. You don't have to give a 2-hour monologue. A simple text saying, "I'm having a rough day, can we talk for five minutes?" is often enough to break the isolation.
Practical Steps for Emotional Resilience
Life isn't about avoiding pain—that's impossible. It's about building the infrastructure to handle it when it arrives.
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1. Audit your inputs. If you spend three hours a day looking at people who seem to have "perfect" lives, you are going to feel like a failure. Limit your exposure to environments that trigger feelings of inadequacy.
2. Practice "Notice and Name." Several times a day, check in with your body. Are your shoulders at your ears? Is your jaw clenched? Relax those muscles. Emotional tension usually hides in the body first.
3. Build a "Low-Day" Protocol. When you are feeling good, write a list of three things that help when you are hurting. Maybe it’s a specific album, a specific person to call, or just taking a hot shower. When the "hurt" hits, your brain won't be able to think clearly. You need a pre-written plan.
4. Sleep is non-negotiable. Emotional regulation is the first thing to go when you are sleep-deprived. Everything looks worse at 2:00 AM. If you are hurting, the best thing you can do is try to get to sleep. The world usually looks 10% more manageable in the morning.
The Shared Human Experience
At the end of the day, the fact that everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes is actually a source of profound connection. It is the one thing every person on this planet has in common. From the CEO of a Fortune 500 company to the person sitting next to you on the bus, everyone has a secret sorrow. Everyone has felt inadequate. Everyone has lost someone.
This isn't meant to be depressing. It’s meant to be liberating.
You aren't a "broken" version of a human being. You are a standard-issue human being undergoing a standard-issue experience. The pain is just proof that you have a heart that’s capable of feeling, which means it’s also a heart that’s capable of healing.
Let the tears happen. Acknowledge the hurt. Then, when the wave passes—and it will pass—take a deep breath and keep going. You’re in good company.
Actionable Next Steps
- Identify your "Bucket Fillers": List the top three things currently causing you "micro-stress" and see if you can eliminate or automate just one of them this week.
- Schedule a "Do-Nothing" Window: Give yourself 30 minutes this weekend with no phone, no chores, and no expectations. If feelings come up, let them.
- Check Your Physiology: If you feel an emotional crash coming on, drink a full glass of water and go outside for five minutes before making any major decisions or self-judgments.
- Connect Substantively: Instead of the standard "How are you?" text, ask a close friend, "What's been the heaviest thing on your mind lately?" You'll be surprised how quickly they open up when given the permission to be honest.