A Good Cry

I've always been the type of person who kind of holds in stress. I feel this need to be all things to all people, except myself. I hold myself to pretty high standards and am pretty proud of my abilities to meet most of them. It sounds like I'd be a typical Type A personality, but I really don't think that I am.

Anyway, since I can remember (and since my mom can, too) I've known the therapy of a good cry. But, due to the variety of hats and masks that I wear on a day-to-day basis, and the shear lack of time where I get to truly take off those hats and masks, I haven't been able to allow myself the vulnerability of a good cry. Until last night. I found myself alone in the car headed to a destination where puffy, red eyes wouldn't be conspicuous, and I just let it all catch up with me. It felt really good (until I was reasonably certain that I was going to vomit...then I had to take a step back). But, since I don't/can't do this so often, I've had a hard time shutting it down and have found myself kind of weepy today. I had a terrible time sleeping (since my mind was still running through the various stressors and the implications of those situations) and have added tired and hormonal to my already fragile existance today.

In short, my head and my skin are not happy places in which to exist today. The good news, though, is that I get to/have to don my teacher hat until 7:30 tonight, where I switch into my mother/wife hat, and I probably won't have too much time to actually think about things for the duration. I know that may sound lousy, but when you can't particularly change the situations that are causing the stress/anxiety/sadness/anger/frustration, we just play through.