The cleansing power of tears...and storms!

I tend to run pretty high on the emotions.  I feel things deeply, and tend to hold onto them for a long time.  I am also highly empathetic, so I will pick up on other people's emotions...and internalize emotions from tv shows, movies, books, commercials, memes....the list goes on. 

I've talked before about empathy and shielding, but I also think that, as time goes on, we all keep little bits of emotions and experiences.  We release much of this grounding, but emotions have a strange sort of resonance, at least for me.  I definitely can feel when I have gone too long without a good cry, it's like that pressure right before a storm, where the air starts to feel really heavy.

Crying has a very bad reputation, in our modern society.  Crying is seen as a sign of being overly emotional, of not being in control, of being weak, of being girly (which is seen as a combination of all the other things crying is associated with!).  I was a big tomboy when I was little.  I grew up telling myself that if I was strong (which I wanted to be), that I wouldn't cry.  It always bothered me to cry, it made me feel like my own body was betraying me.

I still don't like to cry under some circumstances.  I hate crying when I'm in an argument.  I have known too many girls use tears as a way to embarrass others and guilt them into giving in.  And yes, they were girls, technically teenagers, at the time..but anyone who uses emotional manipulation to control others isn't deserving of the more adult label of woman, in my book.  I have never deliberately cried in an argument, but if I am arguing about something I have been repressing for a while (or one of those repeated arguments that has a lot of back history), then there is a good chance that if I let myself get too passionate about voicing my opinion that I will become overwhelmed and will start crying.

Amusingly, I am least likely to cry because I am physically hurting, and that would probably be one of the ways in which I would be most comfortable crying.  While I do have a pretty high tolerance for pain, I find that pain tends to take my breath away, instead of bringing tears to my eyes.

Crying because of a social situation, like a funeral or someone else's sorrow, doesn't really bother me too much, although I rarely cry because of this.  It's like my social awkwardness overrules my empathy, and because I am still fairly uncomfortable filling that comforting role in a social situation, it's like I just don't feel anything.  I can be the rock for other people to cling to, and I may cry later, in private, remembering it, but I don't often cry in public, social situations.

I am very uncomfortable when secondary sources cause me to cry, when other people are around.  By secondary sources, I mean a recording (tv or video) or a retelling (picture or story).  And these, by far and beyond, are the most common trigger for me crying.  I might cry several times during a movie (and not just a traditionally sad movie...during a sad or overwhelmingly emotional moment in any movie).  I own many books with moments that make me cry.  I have cried during commercials (there are some crazy Asian commercials that will always make me cry).  Some songs will make me cry if I try to sing along or even just listen to them.

I always feel sort of embarrassed, crying like this.  I try to hide it, and I always hope that no one notices, or at least they don't comment if they do notice.  I think it is because it is a secondary source, and not something I am witnessing first hand, that makes it so embarrassing for me. 

But no matter what the reason for my crying, it always feels like a weight off my shoulders afterward.  It is like the salt in my tears cleanses me of whatever has been bothering me, no matter what it was.  I could cry because of a commercial where a stranger ends up helping a little girl go to school, and it will make me feel less stressed because of an upcoming deadline.  There doesn't need to be a connection...crying is just cleansing.

I can always tell when I need to cry, because the smallest thing will set me off.  And when I stop and think about it, either there has been a lot going on in my life, or it has been a long time since I last cried.  When I know I'm feeling that pressure, that buildup that comes before a good cry, I will often seek out something that I know will make me cry...before it becomes unbearable. 

I also find that inducing tears in this way can help me process things in my own life that deserve tears but perhaps I was struggling with.  I have a sort of strange relationship with death.  Death itself, and loosing people, even people I am very close too, doesn't always feel like a sad thing for me.  I have known death to be a mercy, and so sometimes the loss itself doesn't bring tears.  But I know that I want to mourn the loss in my active life, the person (or animal) that will no longer be there, that I will no longer be able to touch or talk with.  And sometimes the tears just don't come...there is instead this numbness that won't go away.

If I can make myself cry, I can open that gate, and work on the emotions I am feeling, in a way that lets me move forward instead of being stuck.  Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes it takes more than once, but each time it is a step forward, each time is progress.

I feel the same kind of release with a really good storm.  I have always loved storms, whether I was inside or outside in them.  There is the same buildup and pressure before a storm, and you can feel that potential in the air.

But when the actual storm hits, there is a very distinct energy in the air, and I love it!  There is a wildness there, that marks a storm differently from a mere rain.  There is a fierceness, just like when you are so lost in your tears that the rest of the world fades away.

And there is a cleansing, as the storm washes away all the junk that was clinging to you.  I especially love to be out in the rain, and to feel it hit my skin and my face.  It is a different feeling from being wet from a shower or from swimming. 

I love all the kinds of storms, from the ones with really fat, almost soft raindrops to the sharp, biting ones.  I love thunder and lightning, and that rumbling feeling when the whole world shakes.  And as powerful as they can be, to me storms are soothing.  I am comforted by the feeling of being enclosed in the storm (whether I am indoors or outside).  It is like a barrier between me and the world.

Both tears and storms are often viewed with trepidation.  We may shy away from them, and yet they have so much to offer.  When we learn to work with them, we find new ways to work with ourselves.  We can wash ourselves clean of the residue of our days, the things that cling to us and slowly bring us down.  And once the tears (or storm) is over, everything seems just a little bit brighter.