The Cortisol Man:

Midnight Uprisings, Baboons, and the Price of Being Alive in 2025

A Biohacker’s Confession - A case study

I offer myself for study. Not because I have answers, but because I finally stopped pretending I didn't have a problem. This isn't a sermon. Nor a confession. It's a field report from the war raging inside my body. I'm not seeking your sympathy. I'm offering you data. Lived data. You want wellness tips? Swipe elsewhere.

This is about a man trying to sleep.

I run hot. Too hot. Nights are my battleground. Around midnight. No, let me be precise, 2:14 a.m. to be exact, I wake, not because of the noise outside my bedroom window but because of something alive inside me. A hum in my legs, a jitter in my core. My body vibrates like an electric fence, the legs mostly. My muscles twitch like there is music only they can hear. My Heart Rate Variability (HRV) is preposterous. It stays low. Like a huge cargo jet straining to take off. It signals cortisol dysregulation My metabolic and gut repair are compromised, despite my impeccable diet and fasting, I run the risk of insulin resistance and cardiovascular issues. I’m literally dying in bed.

I cut my caffeine supply at noon, I stop drinking water before sunset. I’ve seen countless kinesiologists and osteopaths for the twerking limbs. Nothing works. My body isn't tired. It's wired. Like a Ferrari in a locked garage, engine screaming for a road that doesn't exist. This isn't energy. It's flaring my excess static, lighting up my bedroom ceiling. My nervous system's running a program it can't shut down. The name of that program is cortisol. I want to tell you about how it fucked me up and forced me to adapt.