Maybe it’s the all-nighter I pulled Monday night. Maybe it’s the major sleep making up I did Tuesday and today. Maybe it’s that I’m in season 6 of my Gilmore Girls re-watch, and I know the impending demise of Lukelai and Rogan. Maybe it’s being a bystander to the drama that is middle school girls. Maybe it’s that against my better judgement I watched the first two episodes of Masters of the Air, and my ability to empathize with fear and loss can’t handle that genre. Maybe it’s that I can’t go on Instagram without getting extremely disillusioned with the state of our country, much less the world. Maybe it’s that I am a week away from learning what the next phase of my cancer journey entails. Maybe it’s feeling far away from friends and family knowing that our family is on the precipice of upheaval.
But today, it’s all piling up. Today I have cried at least 4 times. Considering I am a once/quarter crier, I’m way over my quota. I guess I’m done for the year. Today, the distractions aren’t working. I know, I know. It’s healthy to cry. It’s good to take those moments. I just hate those moments. I don’t know that I’ve ever finished crying and said, “Ah I feel much better. That was a good cry.” Maybe I’m not doing it right. Any advice on making a cry result in making one feel better? How does one achieve “a good cry?” I’m literally writing this between tears and deep breaths, because I thought maybe writing would help.
I’m sure as heck not going to talk to someone while I cry, because that’s a hard no in the psychology of Lacey. I could probably count on one hand the number of people who have seen me cry. Maybe that’s trauma from being called a crybaby when I was much younger, but that is a discussion for another time.
Anyway, I’ve tried the tv shows and the card game and word game apps and the milkshake and the writing. I guess desperate times for desperate measures…time to take a warm bath.