Yes! I think you’re out of control. Loud outbursts of emotions for no apparent reasoning; mood swings like jumping up and down on a trampoline, trying to balance your steps. I visualize you like a person running naked, with the wind in your hair, screaming, while waving your hands in the air all willy-nilly. As I think to myself that I need to lasso you in and pull you back, I throw out the harness of comforting words, and you turn to me and growl. I back away cautiously, with conviction that it’s no wonder that I think you’re out of control.