I’m A Little Blak Rain Cloud
mi vida estupida|(I totally stole borrowed the title ,with slight modification, from The Coconut Diaries.)
My original plan was to write something at work yesterday or today, but as I’ve been doing actual work at work, that never happened. I did, however, manage to think about what I would write. I had some ideas about a year-in-review (even if it is getting close to mid-January). I wanted to write about certain aspects of travelling. I debated whether I was ready to write about some more personal things that had been on my mind. Also, I wanted to have all this done by 10:30 PM so that I could finally get to bed at a decent hour since I start work at 7:30 AM. (Clearly this part has not happened as it is now way after midnight and I am not even in my pajamas yet, though my eyes are stinging and my lids are getting heavy).
All these grand ambitious schemes completely failed because a very strange thing happened. I started crying. Big fat tears came rolling down my cheeks, my shoulders started to shake, and I had to sit on the floor and just let it happen. And the whole time that this is happening I am feeling guilty because, honestly, nothing tragic has happened. So many people around the world are dealing with pain and suffering that I cannot even imagine, but here I am with my head between my knees like a little baby.
When I finally got my shit together enough to turn the deluge into a trickle, I tried to figure out what was going on in my head. I’ve concluded that it’s some combination of lack of sleep, confusion about certain things in my life, and issues I am having with the padres. (If I dig even deeper maybe I’d find something about not having properly mourned the end of my marriage or not having taken risks that I dreamed about years ago, but I’m not ready for that much head-shrinking just yet.)
Then I verbally slapped myself and forced myself to think about how blessed I am. And I do realize that I am, so please don’t think me ungrateful. Not only do I have a job but one that I love. I’ve got some amazing friends and the best sister ever. The padres love me and mean well. I’ve got my health, my Monday night volleyball, my passport which is like a gateway to sanity for me. And of course I got you blogosphere peeps who always crack me up with funny comments and your own adventures.
Maybe I just needed to get something out of me. I know in the morning I’ll feel ok, though I’d feel even better if it was about 40 degrees warmer outside. Maybe I just need one of those light-therapy contraptions that the kids in Siberia stand in front of. (I swear, I saw a photo of that years ago. It was a black-and-white shot from the ’50s or something and these scrawny Russian kids in white undies were standing in front of a huge square light. I’ve never been able to forget it.) Yeah, it’s probably a case of the winter blues because I truly am happiest and most comfortable in my skin during spring and summer when I can feel a warm wind on my bare arms.
But at least I’m not in North Dakota where they can probably blow bubbles that shatter like glass when they hit the ground, because then my tears would freeze on my face and I would be one sad mess.
January 8th, 2010 at 11:03 am
Sometimes when things get too overwhelming a good cry will wash away the stuff in our brains so we can see clearly what is eating at us. I hope things seem better now that it’s morning.
“Happy” lightboxes supposedly work wonders for those short winter days. Sometimes I pull back the curtains as far as they’ll go, and turn on all the lights, and it still feels as if there’s not enough light in the room. Maybe I’ll get a happy light too
January 8th, 2010 at 11:06 am
I’m with you, lady. Sometimes a ten-minute crying jag makes me feel better for no reason at all. Or, wait! I’m going to blame hormones. Yeah. Girl things.
This is our year. Big things are going to happen for us. And not big BAD things, either!
January 8th, 2010 at 4:52 pm
I totally know which picture you’re talking about - I swear it was on 60 Minutes or something years ago.
Southern California in January does wonders for a mood - just saying.
January 9th, 2010 at 1:28 am
Oh, the therapeutic benefits of a good cry. I can’t say enough about them.
January 11th, 2010 at 10:31 am
Crying is good. *hugs*
Now get some sleep
(yes I know this is from days ago but it probably is still relevant!) Ohhh, I need to blog too. All I’m doing is fbing, twittering, and IMing. Damn free wifi in hotel! 
January 11th, 2010 at 1:15 pm
Lack of sleep tends to bring the demons to the surface.
better to deal with them when you’re well rested and have a brighter perspective on things. but a good cry is nothing to feel ashamed of, no matter how small or fickle our problems may be in comparison to world issues…they are still ours, our demons, and they need to be addressed. take a nice long hot shower — sing out loud — and get some sleep. you’ll feel better and more capable of picking at your own brain in the morn. hope you’re feeling better. we need to have a sleepover and catch up soon! luv ya
January 11th, 2010 at 2:33 pm
missmccracken - thanks for popping in, though i wish you’d found me on a day when i wasn’t indulging in a pityfest. that is true about a good cry though. and instead of a lightbox i’d prefer a trip to the caribbean. can’t wait for the day when we are transported in jetsons tubes.
npw - i think you’re right about 2010. it’ll be a good year
corinne - hey girl, you’re still around. just that in itself put a smile on my face. if i could transport my school to socal i would be there soooo fast.
dingo - after i wrote that, i read your post and felt like a dumbass. hope you and mr. dingo are keeping your spirits up.
simone - hugs to you. i really miss you, especially when i see all the photos and want to be on the next plane to se asia.
jersey - thanks darlin’. we do need a sleepover. last time you saw the apartment it had a bed with no matress, i think. now i’ve got plenty of crashing spots.
January 11th, 2010 at 3:06 pm
Well, I’ve been socialized not to cry, so I cannot speak to the potential benefits.
I do understand what you speak of in terms of light. My Dad suffers from it, and as I get older, I find I do more as well. It plays a factor whenever I try to think of where else I might live. For example, I think Portland is a great town, but that many solid days of nothing by gray skies would probably depress the hell outta me…
January 13th, 2010 at 3:30 pm
Sometimes I will actually induce crying just so I can feel that relief afterward. I keep my go-to movies handy for whenever I need them. Are you not usually a crier? Maybe this is a good turn for you.
Processing emotions always seems like a positive to me.
I want a light I can stand in front of in my undies…even though I live in So Cal!
January 15th, 2010 at 10:41 am
gh - for a few years i REALLY wanted to move to seattle, and the only thing that really worried me was the gloomy skies. i’ll probably never live there for that reason alone.
mel heth - geekhiker was socialized not to cry as a boy but i think girls are socialized not to show anger. i tend to cry when i am really angry (which isn’t often). i used to cry a lot more with d because he made me sad often. so i guess i’ve cried a lot less in the last year and half. it is therapuetic. (and so is throwing myself around the court and slamming serves at volleyball.)