Sometimes You Need a Good Cry

There’s a quote on a Pinterest pin I always see.  Something about salt curing everything…

The cure for anything is salt water :: sweat, tears, or the sea. – Isak Dinesen

That really sounds good and makes sense.  Except I’m not running anywhere to work up a sweat.  And no offense to those who love it, but I have no desire to take a dip in the Gulf of Mexico.

So I’m left with tears.

I will not blame PMS.  My feminism won’t let me take my ability to show emotion as a weakness.  But sometimes you just need that release.  The push over the edge of the brink of tears that are always bubbling under the surface. Happy tears.  Stress tears.  Frustration tears.  Tears without pinpointed causes.  There’s something catharatic about the sniffles.  The deep sobs.  The steady stream of tears.

A good ugly cry.

good cry

After a particularly stressful week, I was tempted to just sit in the car and not move a muscle.  Not go into the office.  Not go back home and crawl back into bed.  Just the idea of doing anything else besides sitting in my car seemed impossible.  I needed a minute.  Granted I probably needed a day, but I took the few minutes and gave myself a good cry.  It wasn’t just work, but work didn’t help.  It wasn’t just one anything.

I gave myself the time and when I was done, I felt…lighter.  Isn’t that how it goes?  You don’t expect the tears to clean your inbox, or clean your home.  You don’t expect suddenly to open your eyes and have things be perfectly fine.  But you feel better.  Maybe even hopefully that it’s not as bad as you feared.

Or you put on your favorite sad movie and grab a box of tissues and have at it for two hours.  Or you take an extra, extra, EXTRA long shower.  Or you belt out Alanis Morrisette when nobody is around.  Whatever you do to get it out.  It does no good to anyone for you to harbor all of those feelings for so long just because you don’t want to “inconvenience” anyone with your woes.  You don’t have to wait until your house gets flooded or someone passes away.  We’re humans.  Crying is a thing we do.

So yeah, maybe we all do need some salt water every once in a while.  To clean us out.  Temporarily cure what ails us.  Maybe it’s just enough for someone to see you wipe your tears and sincerely ask you what’s wrong.   And you don’t really even need a “good” reason.  Isn’t just wanting to enough?  It is for my 4-year-old.

Do you opt to just sit and watch The Notebook to get your good cry?  Or do you opt to sweat it out on the track?  Take a quick trip down to the sea wall? What’s the best way for you to let it all out?

sea water
As close to the Gulf as I care to get. It is peaceful though.
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Breonna B
Breonna was born and raised in Houston, Texas. She is recently married to Tyrone, a graphic designer. They currently reside on the West Side of this great city. A big fan of movies, books, photography, and Starbucks, she currently finds herself knee-deep in the throes of being a mommy to Addy {Feb 2011}. Breonna spends the typical 9-5 doing yadda yadda yadda at her job {yes, it’s that nondescript and uninteresting}. She started blogging as a way to do movie reviews, but that gave way to pregnancy blogging. She eventually landed her own space of the internet on BreWrites as well as on Twitter and Instagram {@brewrites} where she talks about everything from the sassiness of her child, to the most recent concert tickets she got her hands on, to the occasional piece of short fiction.

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