When I was 8 my mother brought me and my siblings to her boyfriend’s on Christmas Eve and they went out for drinks and left us with a 13 year old baby sitter. They dropped us in the driveway without bothering to let us in and his house was locked. It was snowing and we were scared. They didn’t come back until after midnight. She was drunk and blamed him and piled us into the car and took off and crashed into a snowbank. I had to go up to a stranger’s house early on Christmas morning and wake them up for help, which is probably why I am so awkward in social situations now.
Wow, you’re bringing back very specific memories from my childhood. I hope you’ve managed to heal somewhat and found things that make you happy.
- “Fluorescent lights in grocery store too bright, causing a downward spiral into existential dread.”
- Fluorescent lights too dim to “save energy” making everything creepier, causing increased nervousness
I don’t ovulate but some of these resonate
Legitimate reason, but I also hate fluorescent lights
Imagine Implying that ovulating is not a legit reason to cry
I am a big believer in the therapeutic effects of having a good solid cry.
I am man enough to cry when I need to and damn, a good solid cry does feel amazing when you are done.
Crying removes emotional tension and gets rid of excess energy, leaving you better able to deal with the issue after.
For most of my life whenever I felt shitty for a few days but hadn’t cried yet, I’d put on a sad movie and just bawl during the whole thing. Felt much better after a good cry and a good sleep.
Jesus Christ lighting in a store really?
So, I did a bit of digging into this to find a reasonable explanation for this one. I’ve gone through dozens blog posts, research papers, and skimmed through two webinars on the topic. Turns out, this is actually a pretty contentious subject in the sociology field, and there’s a lot of competing explanations for this phenomenon. I reached out to an old colleague of mine, Prof. I.M. Bawling, author of Why Am I Crying? Tears, Wails, and Bellyaching Explained, and he was absolutely stumped. After a heated debate that ultimately resulted in the destruction of our lifelong friendship and revoking my invitation to Christmas dinner, the conclusion we’ve come to is:
It’s a joke.
🌟 I’ll bring you some cookies for Christmas.
