I’m addicted to tears
It can be the only explanation. The thought that my tears could be shunted aside by a tiny pink pill fills me with dread. The way I felt when I contemplated giving up smoking tobacco in my previous life. A cold tightness would grip at my chest and my breath would come in sharp jolts. They mean so much to me, my tears, like a best friend, how could I go on without them. I’ve wished for an end to their intrusion at times. On occasion, I’ve implored the powers that be to turn them off, I’ve looked skyward seeking to make an ally of gravity, I’ve bit my lip, I’ve clinched my fists and covered my face with my hands, all to no avail.
The inevitable moistening will begin, followed by the quiver of lips, the rapid blinking and then……the flow. I usually acknowledge their arrival with “Ah Shit”….thinking of the eye make-up that will soon be leaving its mark upon my cheeks.
But to actually not be able to cry?
To actually give up the profound release of their slow warm procession down my cheeks.
How could I go on?
What is so special about these tiny drops of salty moisture? The planet is covered with salt water, our bodies are made of it. What makes these so special? A cursory examination revels no magical chemical properties. There could be some deep theological connection, a physical manifestation to a philosophical need, or perhaps I just like it.
In the final examination, what does it matter?
One of the most welcome changes I have experienced as I progressed through my transition has been the unanticipated explosion in the empathy I feel toward others. I found myself beginning to actively seek out those whose emotions reach out into the world, I seem to feed off these feelings and draw strength from them, and exchange my understanding and support, yet the process of my accepting and sharing leaves me with a need to release the excess emotions that I have drawn to myself.
I believe that is where the crying enters the equation, as all these emotions threaten to overflow, my tears release some of the pent up feelings and free up space in the reservoir to take on more. I’m not sure what will be the outcome if the tears dry up.
As I have committed to giving the medicine a chance to work I will continue as the unwelcome thoughts of suicide had become worrisome but I will say that as the substance of this post suggests, I am not without some deep concerns
Addicted to Tears
I’m addicted to tears