ANYONE WHO KNOWS me knows how easily I can ‘well-up’. As soon as I talk about anything personal, emotional or sentimental, the flood gates will open, and I have very little control over it. I’ve almost learnt to live with this embarrassing trait, but it has often led to me avoid confrontation just because I don’t want to cry in front of whoever is involved!
And then it can just catch me out….. Yesterday I came home from a normal (and rewarding) day at work, walked into my kitchen, dropped to the floor, and sat literally sobbing out loud for half an hour. It was a shock – it followed a random but strong, emotional thought coming to the forefront of my mind as I stepped off the gravy train – and I just could not stop.
I was literally crying like a child – which I well remember from the occasion when my father had to tell my sister and me that Mum had died. I was 10, and I copied my big sister in the marathon sob. My older brother was summoned home and charged with taking us ice-skating (usually reserved as a ‘birthday treat’). It was a fantastic distraction, until the moment I stepped off the ice….. I also remember the way I cried when I returned to school after some time away, when one of the hymns in Assembly triggered the flood gates to open, and a compassionate teacher ushered me out of the hall before I set anyone else off!
Back to yesterday; I tried to distract myself; I went for a walk – for 2 hours (I had to hide my face from passers-by) – I came home and cooked a hearty meal (half eaten), had a (large) glass of wine, a hot bath, and the sobbing continued. As I cried, I connected back to that little girl in me – I was inconsolable and cried myself to sleep.
This morning: business as usual – with a very puffy face and feeling a bit delicate – but outwardly as if no emotional crisis had occurred. I knew that what happened was a purposeful process; a form of natural, impulsive therapy; the way we are designed to relieve the build-up of emotional pressure, exhaustion, frustration, etc. I felt calm, cleansed and collected. Yet, nothing that led to the emotional outburst had changed and – for all my crying – I had neither faced nor dealt with the underlying issue.
While I have accepted that, when the going gets tough, I cry, I also recognise that I can’t hide behind my tears. Everyone finds their own way to deal with an overload of emotion: scream and shout, hide away and sulk, party day and night. The important thing is that we all have a way to release that pressure; to reset our emotional balance. But we also have to find a way to confront our problems, and I know, deep down, that crying is not the answer.
