Big Girls Don’t Cry
Lately I find myself wanting to burst into tears unexpectedly. The other day at Quizno’s I got oatmeal chin while ordering up a chopped salad. I’m sure the order taker was convinced that I was very disturbed by the fact that they don’t have any no-fat dressing.
I’ve been pretty successful at surpressing the urge to burst into tears. I’m not talking about getting misty during Animal Precinct, Rescue 911 or A Baby Story, I’m totally a softy for that kind of stuff. I’m talking about the overt physical response to raw emotion. The other night, Mark and I were talking about the fact that I’m not crier and how in the 15 years we’ve been married, he’s probably seen me truly cry about 5 times.
So then I was thinking about why I don’t cry.
Is it because I’m completely devoid of emotion? Am I completely emotionally repressed? Do I consider it a sign of weakness and vulnerability?
I don’t think it’s really any of these three. As I pondered these things, it occurred to me what was keeping me from expressing the emotion contained within and letting the tears flow. Every time I get that burning, tingly sensation in my nose, the appearance of “oatmeal chin” and the welling of tears in my eyes, I get this one recurrent image in my mind that stops the physical responses to sadness dead in their tracks.
Would it help if someone struck you on the knee with a pipe? That got old Nancy wailin’!
Seriously though, we are criers (you and me)…until the cup fills up and there’s no more relief. I find myself crying watching TV and a telephone commercial comes on. I’m either pre-menopausal or going deaf…CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW!?