They say they’d die for love and then they live it out
They’ll give you something to cry about
And suddenly you really fall to pieces…
–Elvis Costello/Town Cryer
Everyone has different ways of coping with excess emotion. Some people pace. Some people bit their nails. Some people yell.
I am a crier.
People do not like criers. They don’t know what to do when an adult starts crying. If you want to freak a man out, burst into tears for no apparent reason. Oh, there’s a reason. There definitely is. It just isn’t apparent to the naked eye. The crier may not be able to articulate a reason, or may just not want to tell you what it is. I can assure you that there is one.
Some people cry when they’re sad. Just about anyone will cry given an event sad enough. I tear up if I think of even the possibility of certain people possibly dying someday. I also cry at sad movies. I am so conditioned to cry during “It’s A Wonderful Life” that the tears start well before George Bailey is proclaimed the richest man in Bedford Falls and Clarence gets his wings. I start to cry when George gets his life back and runs through town saying Merry Christmas to Mr. Potter and the Savings and Loan.
Oddly, if I’m crying due to some sort of major event, the worst thing you can do is be nice to me. Give me a hug, ask me OK and then just leave me alone. If you make a fuss, I will feel like something really bad must be happening and it will make me cry harder. Or I’ll cry harder because it’s so nice that someone cares that I feel terrible.
I also cry when I’m angry. When I feel powerless. Actually, it might be more accurate to say it’s when I am angry because I feel powerless. And what’s the very worst thing to say to me when I’m angry and crying?
“Calm down.”
Just a warning–it’s a bad idea to ever to tell me to calm down, even if I’m not crying. If I’m crying, it’s a really good way to hear me say some very truthful things, in a very quiet voice. Maybe cruel things. If you tell me to calm down when I’m angry, there is a very good chance that I will lose the ability to temper what I say with kindness.
It’s also a very bad idea to assume that I’m incapable of reason just because I’m crying. I might look hysterical on the outside, but if you listen to me you will probably find me quite rational.
Sometimes I just cry because I’m overwhelmed. Usually if I’ve had a bad day, and have had to hold it together and act like I’m sane. If I have a bad day at work, it’s not unusual for me to turn the car stereo up to ear bleed volume and cry through the first song or two once I hit the freeway. I cry through a few songs, then I find I am feeling much better. Sort of like a steam vent.
Once I’m done crying, I can sing myself the rest of the way home.
Maybe some Patsy Cline.