Saturday, February 20, 2010

Crier, Crier...Pants on Fire

Valk just wrote a blog and in it she talked about crying.  It's all I could think about as I sat there in my study group, fighting back emotions to a) pummel the teacher in the throat and b) curl up in a ball and cry.  And cry and cry and cry.

I managed to just cry.  I tried to fight back the tears.  I tried pinching my thigh and biting my inner cheek really hard.  I tried deep breathing and really, anything that would NOT show that weakness, but alas, the tears started falling.  It's been 8 hours and my cheeks are still stained.  I have really salty tears.  

I don't mind crying.  I'm not even an excessive crier.  I bawl at movies (which is why I never watch any), Johnson & Johnson commercials and that's about it.  Oh, and of course, when I'm so angry I can envision blood splat on the wall.  Then I cry.   And then I cry some more because I am so damn mad at myself for crying.  It's so unprofessional.  And immature.  But there is no way I have found to control it.  And that's what happened today.

I hate feeling censored.  I hate feeling confined.  I hate rules.  I hate being talked down to.  And I hate threats.  Really, if you want to piss me off and evoke emotion you've never ever ever seen in me before, do any one of those things.  I know we live in a world of rules.  I'm ok with that.  I'm ok with that because I am a good person and am guided by my moral compass and because my moral compass is a very reliable measuring tool, I rarely do things that require extreme rule breaking.  I mean, I don't get all hot and bothered about making more than one copy of an article when I'm only allowed to have one, but you get me. It's because of my moral compass that rules bother me so much.    Because at the end of the day, I don't really give a fuck what the rule says if it offends my sense of justice, my sense of good, my morality and my ethics.  Really, I do not give a fuck.  And you can try all you want to threaten and censor and guess what? I still don't give a fuck.  And please, don't think that me not giving a fuck somehow means I don't know the rules.   On the contrary, I know them so well that I have figured out that they are for stupid people and that offends me even more.  In a past life, I can promise you I was one hell of an attorney and while you were busy citing the rule, I already found my loophole and can argue with you til you are blue in the face about why I am right and you are wrong.  And I will.  I do beat dead horses.  All the fucking time. 

The problem is when I get to the point where all I see is red, I have no problem cutting off my arm to save a finger.  And that sucks.  Because I don't need to be all self-sabotaging.  I mean, it's bad enough you saw me cry and are probably thinking it's because you hurt me in some way, and God does it bother me when anyone thinks that.  When I'm hurt and sad, I strap my big girl boots on and actually say, "you know, I'm hurt and sad, how can we get past this?".  But when I'm angry.... whoa nelly!

Amy wrote about PMDD and while I still don't know what the last D stands for (deranged? delusional? delectable? delicious?), I'm pretty sure something's going on.  I say every month I'm going to track my period, but I never do.  It does seem like I have 2 weeks out of the month where I am unbearable.  Two whole weeks.  My poor husband and children.   And my poor other personalities.  Ugh.  So I bought this supplement called "Mood Balance", but I'm a little scared to take it.  I also noticed today that I'm a nervous eater.  I don't know when that happened, but all I could do in that study group was stuff shit in my mouth.  That's a new habit I must have picked up in the last few years.  Fun. 

Ray took me to eat sushi today.  He was the highlight of my week.  We had $30 to spend, which is HILARIOUS because Ray and I both think we're heirs of the Rockafellers and are almost incapable of budgeting, especially at dinner.  But we did.  We got out our phone calculators and tabulated to the last dime.  I loved it.  Of course, the sushi place we go to has this special roll they make for us which is just deeeeeeeee-vine so we ordered more.  And then with more, I had to order another drink and more ginger dressing.  Ray just had me peeing.   I can't remember when we've laughed so hard.  It was awesome.  What was more awesome is that he did this because tonight he's going to watch MMA at his best friend's and tomorrow he's going to play golf so he really made an effort to carve out some time for us knowing we wouldn't have a lot of it this weekend.  That was the best part.  Effort goes a long way. 

I've had a good week.  I hope you did, too.  And here's the take away message:  Make your own rules.  Live with the light of your heart guiding you and make your own rules.   Once a rebel, always a rebel...


Jodi said...

Ugh, I am a crier, too. Wait, were you saying you were a crier or just that you were an angry crier? Shit. If this were someone else's blog I might minimize this and check but I know you won't care.

The weird thing about my crying fits is that I *rarely* cry when I am pissed. Very rarely. I get very cold and calm....Well, unless my feelings are really hurt, too. Even then, the tears usually fall after the fact when I'm telling the story to someone.

I cry at the dumbest things. Like the other day a friend of mine was telling me that her baby was really sick and she was pissed at her hubs for wanting to work an extra shift. But you know it goes, if she threw a fit he'd stay but she wanted him to *want* to stay and all that jazz. Anyway, she didn't have to say anything, the light bulb when off and he got it. He started calling his work people and saying, "Listen my baby is really sick, I'm not coming in tonight." I fucking got choked up! No shit.

The National Anthem (should that be capitalized?) makes me tear up.

Obviously, thinking about my girls makes me choke up but even thinking about my nephews and nieces does.

There was this lady on our local news whose dog was poisoned, she was on camera bawling and talking about her doggy and I cried.

When I photograph other peoples' children and *they* tear up, I tear up.

Do not even get me started on books or movies. I'm a mess.

I'm glad you and Ray had a good time, I like hearing stories like that. I might even feel a familiar lump in my throat.

Just kidding.

Kinda ;)

Little Miss Me said...

Those aren't dumb things, Jode! You're one of those people who is just uber connected to your own and others' emotion. As much as you judge yourself for being so called "judgemental", you're nothing but a big mush. You have empathy and sympathy oooooooozing out of you. It's the beautiful Pisces in you. <3

I cry at the National Anthem, too. And I cried my ass off when Shaun Miller won the gold for the halfpipe. But that could be due to the PMDD. :-D

Little Miss Me said...

aaaaand, his name is Shaun White and I'm tired and got confused with Bode Miller. *blushes*