I seem to have overactive tear ducts again. This is the third time in my life I've had this problem. And it is a problem. Let me explain while I have control, and probably another 15 minutes of private time this morning.
Crying for me has never just been that sweet little 'shining eyes and sniffling' thing some people have mastered. No, if I start crying, my body takes over and I have to go somewhere and sob into a towel. And sob. And sob. Then, after I can finally mop up the snot and get off the floor, my sinuses are throbbing, my eyes look like I went three rounds with Tyson, and I can do a fantastic impression of Janis Joplin. I do not have control of this, and I really wish I did.
1992 was a meteor shower of events that completely rocked my world: I dropped out of law school after thinking for years that law was my life; the boy I'd dated for four years broke up with me at a wedding; my parents put our 15-year old dog to sleep; and then my grandmother passed away. After that, I found it difficult to speak to my family. The tears would come with even the merest thought of how things had changed. I'd pick up the phone only to put it down again and run for a towel.
When my dad died of cancer in 1999, I had a little more control, which is strange because I was also pregnant for the first time. I think because it was simultaneously the saddest and the happiest things ever, I was more balanced and less prone to sobbing despite the hormone hurricane. I did my share of crying, but I seemed to acquire the ability to pull it together when I really needed to.
My father-in-law died 9 months after my own father and, post-partum, the sobbing returned. I finally just quit picking up the phone to call Don's family - I'd dial the area code and then couldn't see the rest of the numbers.
And it's happening again. My mother-in-law died in April and I've been a mess ever since. There are four amazing women that I really need to stay in touch with - not for their sakes, for my own. They are my sisters-in-law and my mother-in-law's best friend and I haven't been able to do more than forward silly emails to them. Even now, my throat is constricting like I swallowed a whole butterscotch disk.
I'll be back...
Okay, let's try this again. I need them, and I need my own family, and I have got to figure out a way to get over this. I have prayed about this before, and I think God has answered my prayers by saying, "this is just how I made you, you're not alone, cope." I've thanked Him for giving me so many wonderful things to cry about: memories of playing Yahtzee and sewing with my grandmother; walking down the aisle with my dad; hearing the kids making pancakes with their Grandma Jean.
Okay, I can see the screen again. Sort of. So here's my thoughts. And maybe another prayer answer in the form of a suggestion. If you get a phone call and the ID says it's me, but after you say hello there's just this muffled sobbing in the background, will you just hang on and wait for me? I'm trying.
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1 comment:
Hey .. it's Nif!
I knew even before my mom called me out on it years ago that when I'm in a bad place, I hide. I stop answering her calls (and often others as well) and I certainly don't initiate.
Now, that doesn't mean the corollary* is true - just because I haven't talked to someone, I'm not necessarily upset. (* is that the word I want? I was in Mr Hohensee's geometry class and thus learned nothing, plus, you know, geometry)
Much love though and this too shall pass. xx
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