Is This a Normal Situation? "Every time I try to console someone who is crying, I cry."

I've never been good at soothing a sobbing buddy, mostly because it causes me to cry. Sure, sometimes it's because I've been moved, but that's not always the case — and still, I weep as if my existence depends on producing as much saline water as possible. No amount of effort has ever been enough to keep the tears from flowing. This odyssey of emotions is not only humiliating, but it is also harmful to all individuals participating in the now-tired dialogue.

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Is this typical? It seems to be the case. People like myself are known as "sympathetic criers."

According to a Michigan State University article, "it's interesting how you may take on the emotions of another individual, as if emotions or sentiments are infectious." "However, it's true that emotions may be infectious." It's known as emotional contagion, and communicating feelings is simpler than you would believe," the article continues.

For decades, scientists have been studying the topic. Elaine Hatfield, an 84-year-old professor of psychology at the University of Hawai'i who has done extensive study on emotional contagion, feels the phenomena is similar to "monkey see, monkey do." It stems from our inclination of copying the conduct of individuals we're speaking with and maybe even surrounded by, according to her. "People reflexively and repeatedly replicate and coordinate their actions with the facial expressions, voices, postures, gestures, and instrumental behaviours of others during conversation," she explains.

What's hilarious is that, according to social scientist Daniel Rempala, sobbing may be more infectious than, say, laughing, since the behaviour grabs more attention, pulling us in. "When people are paying attention to the other person, caring about the other person, or are exceptionally excellent at interpreting another person's emotional display, they are more receptive to emotional contagion," Rampala said.

Is it true that certain persons are more prone to this emotional pattern than others? Yes, according to a 1997 article, persons with more "reactivity, emotionality, sensitivity to others, social functioning, [and] self-esteem" are more vulnerable to emotional contagion, while those with higher "self-assertiveness and emotional stability" are not. There is no right or wrong here, no moral judgement; it all relies on the emotional arc of the person.

Given that I am a highly sensitive person, or HSP, which is estimated to account for 20% of the worldwide population, the results make sense – at least in terms of assigning a cause to my unexplainable tears. My hypersensitivity might be a result of my autism, which is intriguing since, like many others, my neurodivergence makes it difficult for me to control my emotions. My emotional hypersensitivity and dysregulation, when combined, explain not only why my emotions are so powerful that I weep every time someone sheds a tear in my presence, but also why, despite my best efforts, I am unable to control them.

Another part of my neurodivergent experience, "camouflaging," or the intentional or unconscious suppression of natural reactions by persons on the autistic spectrum, may help to accelerate the process. This behaviour is intended to help them blend in and avoid being coddled, babied, shunned, despised on, tormented, or bullied because they are different. In 2021, Nidhi Singhal of Action For Autism (AFA), a New Delhi-based NGO, told The Swaddle that an autistic person "may mimic the tone of their voice, the phrases they use, their smile, their eye contact, even their general mannerisms... by imitating other popular or 'loved' youngsters."

That's how I've been concealing myself as well. And one of the things I've found myself doing to blend in more readily is mirroring really aggressively — to the point where it's nearly automatic now. So, when my brain learns that I'm in close proximity to another sobbing person, it feels it has no choice but to burst into tears.

Knowing why I respond this way to sobbing friends may make me feel less humiliated the next time my tear ducts spring up like clockwork when someone asks for my shoulder to cry on. Instead of giving them advise, I'll lend them my ears — and maybe a container of ice cream — while my eyes pretend to be (e)motion-sensitive faucets.