I’m teary again. Almost a year ago,during a major depressive episode, I was all tears. I cried if I looked up. I cried if someone looked my way. I cried if the water was too hot. I’m sure you get the drift, I cried at anything. Forget humor, it was lost on me. Despite if I thought something was funny, I would cry and laugh. Talk about confusing messages. I thought that was all behind me, but here I am, teary again.
At the time, a psychiatrist told me that my body, and or mind, was reacting inappropriately to things. I remember introducing my husband to him and breaking out in tears. Frankly, though, he didn’t have to tell me I was acting inappropriately to things. I could figure out that one on my own. I’m a pretty smart cookie when I need to be.
These aren’t the silent beautiful tears that every actress seems to have. Even if they do sneak up on me and stream down my face without prompting, I am not a beautiful crier. Immediately I try to stop them from bursting out, holding my breath and trying without success to keep them in. This has caused my son on occasion to remind me to breath. Who knew a teenage boy could be so smart considering his hormones are running amok? Mine was and, through the tears, I was definitely proud of him.
Back to how I cry. Holding my breath only turns my face various colors, red being the deepest. I get splotches all over my face, neck, and chest. A red line forms over my lips. My eyes turn a deep red. Pretty? Not in the least. It is a very unattractive look.
As if that all wasn’t unattractive enough, I sniffle. Not little, delicate, sniffles, but deep, why don’t you blow your nose, kind of sniffles. I hate blowing my nose in front of people. I do know those sniffles aren’t all attractive and probably a bit disgusting. Still, sniffle I do.
What caused this recent bout of tears? I’m not quite sure. They did start when I was in with the nutritionist of all people. Did she confirm that I was fat? Did she say she has never seen anyone so screwed up in regards to how they feel about food? Or that I was going to have to do tremendous work to be healthy? No. She was compassionate. She got where I was coming from in regards to having an anorexic mind in a fat person’s body. She said we would take small steps to getting me healthy. Yet, every time I brought up anything about not wanting to eat, those tears crept out. They’ve been sneaking out ever since.
Today I go into see the nurse practitioner who handles my depression medications. Yes, probably between tears, I am going to tell him that the inappropriate tears have begun again. Months of no tears, as if it was a drought, only for the rain to begin again. I’m sure he will probably tell me to wait it out. The men in my family will have to deal with me crying again. Hopefully the drought will begin soon.
Photos courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/