I’ve always hated crying.
It gives me a headache.
I use up too many tissues to wipe away the issues…ANNNNND the mucus.
Even in the shower, it still leaves my head feeling sour. It’s just not my thing to wallow so I’ve grown accustomed to swallow the overwhelming emotions and give the tears a Jamaican backhand so swift, they run back up in my ducts and tell the others to duck and shut da bombarass up.
Like: Yeah, you betta stop crying
This hasn’t been a healthy practice for my spirit. I recognized how unhealthy it was when I got sober.
I realized the screams in my soul need the tears to let them go.
I adjusted. I let them pour. I found out that a little headache from crying was worth the release of the grief I had stored.
I learned that crying was a way of acknowledging my grief and giving it the respect it deserves.
The tears we let fall are a THANK YOU pour of the things we endured. Things we buried DEEP to rest in PEACE.
That THANK YOU CRY is as necessary as the air we need to breathe.
It helps you pinpoint your GRIEF.
Grief is a funny thing.
Over the past week I had been welling up with tears I couldn’t name, with a depressing feeling in my gut I couldn’t explain. I didn’t want to cry without knowing the cause; that’s proven dangerous and detrimental to me before. Without careful self-examination, letting tears fall aimlessly can turn a faucet of futility and hopelessness that is very hard to turn back off.
I’m not saying you should control your emotions, but there should always be a level of accountability for them for the sake of personal growth.
Thankfully, the Universe heard my rumblings and mumblings about me trying to figure out these burgeoning persistent tears. They wanted me to cry so bad, but I NEEDED to know why.
They casually flung this story on my timeline on Notes by kamil who was going through her own shituation:
This was my reaction:
Then it clicked. It was GRIEF banging at my door again.
I was shocked because GRIEF came earlier than I expected. I made a point to HEAL from all my former mess but I’ve come to expect cyclical grief in April when my daddy’s death anniversary comes around.
The body gets imprinted whenever GRIEF comes your way. There’s no escaping it.
Clearly, GRIEF doesn’t run on anybody else’s clock but its own.
You can heal and still feel grief. Grief doesn’t go, it evolves with you.
So I had to cry it out. I took a shower and sung this ballad that always aptly describes how I feel when I think about my dad:
It was cleansing. It always is.
A great THANK YOU CRY will have you feeling rejuvenated like a spa treatment for your soul.
Inherently, the CRY you need will come to you one way or another. My suggestion is to find its root so you can properly soothe your way into the next chapter.
I hate crying too…🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
love this and the entire poetic flow to this whole piece. who knew something about grief and getting the feels and tears out could land so smoothly?! I'm so glad my essay gave you what it needed to give and beyond that, I'm thankful for what you've written here, because I too was a person who once didnt cry, and now, I be crying all the time. and there is something so sweet about that release, but even more so when I'm like "hmmm, that's why I'm crying!" thank you for this! <3