Puh-Lease: Cry Me a River

I don’t consider myself particularly weak or fragile. But I sure cry a lot. In all kinds of situations.

I cry when I am sad, angry, happy, moved, touched, frustrated and ashamed.

I almost ALWAY cry when watching the Little House on the Prairie. Damn that Pa’ Ingalls: He gets me every time with his big brown eyes, his suspenders, his settler mullet and his good heart.

I can take a pretty good verbal beating without crying. People, who are angry with me may yell and call me things or scold me and I’ll listen. Depending on the situation, I may be quiet or I may defend myself or do the counterstrike-thing. Then I don’t cry. (Until after, sometimes.)

I also sometimes cry when other people cry. I cry during toasts, speeches, at weddings, baptisms and when my boys do or say something particularly sweet.

But the worst thing you can do to me, the thing that reeeeally gets me, is when people show concern. You know the hand-across-the-table, look-you-in-the-eye: “So how are you really?” Is a cross between being vulnerable and being cared for and getting attention that just KILLS me.

A few weeks ago I was telling my mother about a conversation I had had, that had just hit me so hard emotionally and as I was telling her about all the crying I had done, I began crying. Just talking about crying made me well up. I cleared my throat and turned around to make coffee in order to hide the fact that I was crying because I was talking about crying (COME ON!! It just gets SO lame sometimes!)

Then, as I was turning, I noticed that my mother was crying.

I realize we must sound ludicrous!

But yes, I was making my mother cry because I was crying over the fact that I had cried previously. Then we saw what was going on and started laughing.

Fortunately, I laugh a lot too.

Here is one of my very, very favorite songs by one of my very, very favorite artists:

K D Lang Crying