Weepy Cheeks

I LOVE to laugh!  It’s my favorite thing to do and I make a point to do it often - sometimes at very inappropriate moments: when I’m in trouble with someone and should be sincere in my remorse but something has hit my funny bone; in church, while singing sacred hymns I am often reminded of hearing someone sing the same hymn in a strong vibrato or worse, they were tone deaf and I can’t stop myself from doing my best impression; or at the movies or theater when the scene is building up to something comedic.  I often anticipate where the scene is heading and begin to laugh when I appreciate the humor…  a moment or two early.  Or worse - I think it’s going to be funny and am then horribly surprised when it takes a different direction and I am the only one who has laughed at all.

The flip side of this manic disorder of mine is that I HATE to cry.  It’s not because I think crying is a sign of weakness, because I have learned to appreciate the strength it takes to offer tears of compassion or the healing affect crying has on the body.  Why I hate to cry and will fight it with every fiber of my being is because I am an ugly cryer (I know spell check says it’s to be spelled c-r-i-e-r but I would read that and pronounce it “creer” and I don’t like the sound of that, so poo on you spell checker!)

I have several friends who are wonderful cry-ers.  They don’t fight their emotions and try to keep them to themselves.  They also have the ability to listen to someone in pain and express compassion back to them through their own tears.  These friends are beautiful cry-ers and weep silent, gentle tears of empathy, sharing the moment with a wounded soul.

One friend I have in particular, I will call her “Erin,” is someone who I have come to appreciate very much for her crying ability.  I have seen Erin console many people as she sheds her beautiful tears right along with them and tenderly pats them on the back or offers a needed hug.  Then, just minutes later, Erin’s face shows no signs of the tears.  After wiping them dry Erin can return to her normal activities, with no one seeing the evidence of her sympathy.

I am not at all like Erin.  When I cry, those few situations where I succumb to the emotions that provoke the action, there is nothing beautiful about it.  First of all, once I get started I have a difficult time stopping.  The harder I try, the worse it gets.  Next, I am a loud cry-er.  I sniffle like crazy, I often blubber like an idiot or sob, emitting unrecognizable sounds with either.  Finally, my face turns a shade of red Crayola should add to their assortment.  They could call it “Weepy Cheeks” or something like that.

It is not a pretty sight!  Plus - the effects linger.  I cannot get the red out of my eyes or cheeks for hours.  Usually, only after a full night’s sleep is the evidence gone.  So, you can see why I fight the tears.  Unfortunately, fighting the tears is probably what causes the effects to be so severe.  Even when I am doing my best to defend against them breaking the barrier it is evident in my face.  It must be a frightening transformation to witness.

I certainly believe that the shedding of tears is healthy but I do my best to reserve crying for appropriate occasions.  The following are times I have not been ashamed to shed tears:

1. A funeral or event surrounding such
2. The receipt of bad news
3. Comforting a friend who was hurting
4. The death of a beloved pet
5. While watching a sad movie or television program, or reading an emotional story
6. As a result of hysterical laughter

On the flip side, the following are not what I would consider appropriate reasons for crying but have lost the battle with my tears in them anyway:

1. When singing a song, any song.  I’m not sure why but whenever I sing I begin to cry.  It’s a weird thing that I can’t explain but it makes church, birthday celebrations, karaoke, a ride in the car with music playing and even cleaning my house an awkward experience.
2. Tripping on the sidewalk.
3. Being told by a telephone operator, “Your call did not go through.  Please hang up and dial again.”
4. Opening the dryer and realizing my clothes are still damp and have a mildew smell to them - and I really wanted a shirt from the batch.
5. Unloading an entire cart of groceries onto the cashier’s counter, having them rung up and bagged while several customers wait behind - only to find out I forgot to transfer my wallet back to the purse I am using.
6. Forgetting to check the bathroom stall in the busy public restroom for toilet paper and have learned, at the moment I really need it, there is none.
7. Ordering a “Pepsi” at a restaurant while out with friends, and being asked if “Coke” was okay.  I said “Yes” but everyone knew my true feelings when the tears sprinted down my cheeks.

So… you see my dilemma and why I seek laughter in times of difficulty.  I am both an ugly cry-er and an inappropriate cry-er.  Oooh… and I now have one to add to the list of ridiculous reasons to cry:

#8- Reading and reliving the pitiful moments my tears kicked my butt.

I think I’ll call Erin and see if she can come over and help me through it.  Maybe I’ll get her to take a picture of my face and then I’ll contact Crayola with the suggestion and example for a potential addition to their line.