I had another crying spell this morning. Do you know what that means? It doesn’t mean I cried over a Sarah Mclachlan SPCA commercial, or missed my friend Gail to the point of tears. Nor does it mean I’m overly sensitive and cry easily. It means having no physical or mental control over the tears that are streaming down your face. It means cooking eggs one minute, then burning them while sobbing on the floor the next. It’s unprovoked, abrupt and comes out of nowhere. For me, it actually feels like I’m under a spell.
I’ve never had these before, but they seem to be new tenants in the empty spaces my anxiety left behind (not that the anxiety is gone). It doesn’t feel any better or worse. It’s a different kind of pain, a different kind of confusion. It started yesterday. I was having dinner with a friend, and had to stop myself twice from breaking down in the middle of a crowded restaurant. As soon as I got home, I bawled out. I texted another friend about it. Then, an hour later texted him that I cried four times since my last text.
The crying spells lasted throughout the night, until I fell asleep, and continued this morning. In the time it took me to write a blog, complete a freelance gig and fill out an application, I cried three times. I was one digit away from making a call that would’ve cancelled a very important appointment. It took every ounce of the very little strength I had left in me to get ready, and leave my house. To this very moment I still don’t know how I did it, but I’m glad I did.
When I was done, I got back in my car and drove home. I was wearing my Banana Republic slacks that I bought in New York when I thought I would be working at a brokerage firm. They fit perfectly, and still had the tags attached. I called them my “big girl pants,” because they made me look like an adult. I drove down 101 South, shifting gears in my “big girl heels” along the way. And for the first time in a long, long time, I felt – OK. Not great, not even good. Just, OK.
When you are depressed, feeling OK is a luxury that I will gladly take. It’s only been eight hours, but I haven’t had a crying spell since. That is another feat that although wavering, I will take. While I am apt to cry any minute now, I will remember those few seconds in my car when I felt OK. Even if I never feel that way again, I felt OK for that moment in time and I am completely OK with that.
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