Y’know, public displays of emotion embarrass me. Particulary distress. I cannot stand to cry in front of other people, even people I know really well like Terry or the kids. It is humiliating.
I hate being anything but bright and sunny and when I am feeling stressed and weird, I clam up and won’t look at anyone and go “oh. I’m fine.” when asked what’s the matter. Do you ever do that? Somehow I feel like the whole rest of the world has this healthy way of dealing with their stress, they’re able to get it out on the table and handle it. I bottle it up, break out in a rash, and simmering just behind my eyelids is a pool of tears looking for an excuse to come out.
The excuse can be anything, like that dam waiting to burst and all it needs is one last raindrop. It could be the lawnmover refusing to start, or the broken wineglass, or finding a flea on my foot. Little things that don’t matter become the last raindrop, and like the dam that bursts I let it ALL spill out and there’s this collateral damage affecting everyone around.
Then everyone is standing around shellshocked, wondering what they did because there’s Mom, in pieces all over the floor. They’re not used to that, me in pieces. I’m the calm and collected one, the responsible one, the handler of everyone else’s crisis, the backbone and the steel rod.
But I’m human too, dammit! Just because I’m all torn up doesn’t mean I won’t pull together in a few minutes (hours, days) and deal with the issues. I will, it’s just that I’m needing to be hand-flappy for a bit. I need some reassurance just like everyone else. Haven’t I always dealt with things and made it work? Haven’t I? YES…I HAVE. Have I ever run home to mother and abandoned my responsibilites? NO…I HAVE NOT. It’s just that…sometimes…I need to fall apart. That’s all.
Give me a couple of days. Let this hormone thing clear out of my system, let me get the boy in school, let a semblance of normalcy and routine establish itself, then I can handle what’s coming…even tho I have no idea what it is. I will be able to handle it. I just need a couple of days of weepy hand-flapping, that’s all. Just….give me a couple of days. Ok? Then I’ll put on my big girl panties and handle things.