Don't fear the weeper

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I am now a weeper. If I’m happy, I cry. If I’m scared, I cry. If I’m nervous, I cry. If I’m disappointed, I cry. And not the delicate handkerchief-to-corner-of-eye crying. I cry with gulping sobs that leave my face red for hours.

I used to cry maybe once a year. Now I’m lucky if I can get through a week without tearing up over something, be it an old song or NPR StoryCorps or the death of someone I DON’T KNOW. Or coming back from the store without toilet paper.

And I’m not depressed. While things could be better (please, someone…if you need a history teacher at your high school, WM needs to be a teacher at your high school. We’re approaching the 99 week threshold. Email me.) they’re certainly not bad.

I guess things are tugging at my heartstrings stronger than they did before. Or maybe the heartstrings just aren’t as taut as they used to be.

(sniff!)

2 Comments

  • I am a new reader, I found you through PJ. You know I too am now a weeper/cryer. I don’t know if it’s hormones, or getting older, or what. Or it’s just the world in which we live. But I used to be a non-cryer. It would take an act of congress to make me cry. Anyhow, I hear you. So I read a lot, I try to comment but I often lurk. Hav a lovely day and you have a new reader.

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