Friday, March 11, 2011

Cry Me a River

For those of you just getting to know me, I'll let you in on a bit of a secret. I'm a bit weepy at times. Yes, in addition to being a baby, I'm also a bit of a cry baby. 

Ok, so maybe that's a bit of a stretch. But lets be real. I know that I am not the only one out there who gets a little misty during a good episode of Oprah, or an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (seriously, EVERY EPISODE, how do they do it?)... But for me, its more than that. Graduations (misty eyes), reading heartfelt letters from friends and loved ones (misty eyes), being asked to be my soon to be niece's godmother (tears). And although I've been the first to acknowledge that this whole blogging thing has been a therapeutic experience, I have even found myself once or twice reflecting on some of the heavier topics with a bit of a wet eye. So what is going on here? Am I regressing backwards in some Benjamin Button-like universe where I cry more and more as an adult? What's next... a diaper change and a bottle? 

But in all seriousness, I have been finding that the misty-eyed syndrome (lets call it the MES) overpowers situations that I would have never imaged that it would (let me rephrase that: never imagined it still would). 

What I've learned about myself recently (in some situations more embarrassing than others) is for me anger=tears, fear=tears, frustration=tears, guilt=tears... Uncertainty, doubt.....tears, tears! I guess you can chalk it up to differences in the way we all deal with things, but I'm finally aware of the fact that its not the most appropriate (or healthy) way to address these often stressful, frustrating, heart-heavy situations. Shit Tears happen, but in my case (and maybe anyone else nodding their head and relating to any of this), I feel like my MES needs to be addressed head on. Because behind those salty tears, are things that need to be dealt with before they get to the tipping point. My eyes are tired; I need a new way to deal. 

Let's face it. No one wants to be that girl in the office, the classroom, or even at home for that matter. We're not 8 anymore. So I challenge you to throw out the Kleenex, take a deep breath, and just start dealing with me... unless of course is Sunday night.

1 comment:

  1. Was The Last Song inspiration for this piece? They didn't even play The Climb during that dang movie...

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