Wiggly, jiggly jello

What is jealousy, and what is the effect it can have on the individual who has been wholly engrossed by it? How does it creep into the mind and, once there, how is it dealt with?

Steven Pinker, in his book How The Mind Works begins by telling us that:

Ambition, anxiety, sexual arousal, and jealous rage can all be triggered by images of what isn't there. In one experiment, volunteers were hooked up to electrodes and asked to imagine their mates being unfaithful. The authors report, "their skin conductance increased 1.5 microSiemens, the currugator muscle in their brow showed 7.75 microvolts units of contraction, and their heart rates accelerated by five beats per minute, equivalent to drinking three cups of coffee at one sitting."

Later, he continues on the subject, explaining the differences between the jealousy of men and that of women:

Both sexes can feel intense jealousy at the thought of a dallying mate, but their emotions are different in two ways. Women's jealousy appears to be under the control of more sophisticated software, and they can appraise their circumstances and determine whether the man's behavior poses a threat to their ultimate interests. Men's jealousy is cruder and more easily triggered. (Once triggered, though, women's jealousy appears to be as intensely felt as men's.) In most societies, some women readily share a husband, but in no society do men readily share a wife. A woman having sex with another man is always a threat to the man's genetic interests, because it might fool him into working for a competitor's genes [(raising another man's child)], but a man having sex with another woman is not necessarily a threat to the woman's genetic interests, because his illegitimate child is another woman's problem.

 From a biological standpoint this all makes sense, but what about the emotions involved? The feelings, the heartbreak, the bout of depression that inevitably follows close behind? The irrationality of the belief that this person holds the key to your heart, knows you inside and out and is the only one capable of satisfying or pleasing you? Perhaps these are true, but it seems highly unlikely, all things considered. Is it an inability to deal with change? To rewrite whatever scripts involving your future life which previously involved this other person but but will now no longer suffice? How does one overcome this feeling of loss, heartbreak and loneliness as soon as possible, if at all?

Thomas Lewis writes on The Anatomy of Love, saying:

Take a puppy away from his mother, place him alone in a wicker pen, and you will witness the universal mammalian reaction to the rupture of an attachment bond-- a reflection of the limbic architecture mammals share. Short separations provoke an acute response known as protest, which prolonged separations yield the physiological state of despair...
Human adults exhibit a protest response as much as any other mammal. Anyone who has been jilted in an infatuation... has experienced the protest phase firsthand-- the inescapable inner restlessness, the powerful urge to contact the person ("just to talk"), mistaken glimpses of the lost figure everwhere (a seething combination of overly vigilant scanning and blind hope). All art part of protest. The drive to reestablish contact is sufficiently formidable that people often cannot resist it, even when they understand that the other person doesn't want anything to do with them... The tormented letter that a rejected lover composes turns out to be an updated version of a baby rat's constant peep: the same song, in a slightly lower pitch. 

He continues further, addressing the physiological aspects of despair

A mammal in protest shows a distinct physiology. Heart rate and body temperature increase, as do the levels of catecholamines [(this elevates alertness and activity, much like adrenaline)] and cortisol. A young mammal who has lost his mother ought to stay alert long enough to find her, and the rise in catecholamines during protest promotes his vigil. This part of the ancient attachment machinery may also keep a human being staring at the ceiling all night after a breakup. Cortisol is the body's main stress hormone, and its sharp elevation in separated mammals tells us that relationship rupture is a severe bodily strain. Cortisol levels rise sixfold in some mammals after just thirty minutes of isolation... Prolonged separation affects more than just feelings. A number of somatic parameters go haywire in despair. Because separation deranges the body, losing relationships can cause physical illness. Growth hormone levels plunge in despair-- the reason why children deprived of love stop growing, lose weight no matter what their caloric intake, and dwindle away...
Children aren't the only ones whose bodies respond to the intricacies of loss: cardiovascular function, hormone levels, and immune processes are disturbed in adults subjected to prolonged separation. And so medical illness or death often follows the end of a marriage or the loss of a spouse. One study, for instance, found that social isolation tripled the death rate following a heart attack. Another found that going to group psychotherapy doubled the postsurgical lifespan of women with breast cancer.

Yet it is not only this despair which literally breaks you down, but the anger and hatred toward that specific other individual whom your love interest has shifted their attention which eats away at you, haunting your thoughts and dominating your dreams. How does one know that this isn't simply misplaced lust or passion? That these feelings are genuine and true, and had you gotten a second chance things would be different? How does one distinguish between true love and simply dependence or familiarity with an individual and a routine? Perhaps time is the only remedy, but nobody likes to hear that.
 
Maybe these words bring me no closer to answering the questions that I have or fixing the problems which I face, but it is a little disconcerting to know that not only does it provide mental anguish, but physiological distress and ill effects, as well. It is very well a good idea to get over these things as quickly as possible, but that is far easier said than done.