I’ve been doing a lot of crying recently.
I like all the distance ‘doing’ puts on “a lot of crying.” It makes it sound casual, like you’ve been doing yoga. It doesn’t conjure up the actual, sweaty reality of yoga where I’m forcefully reminded of my unstretched limbs and poor stamina; ‘doing yoga’ is chill. It’s walking down a sunny road with a rolled up yoga mat and some water with lemon. ‘Doing a lot of crying’ feels similarly unaffected. It’s like doing a gratitude journal or box breathing.
How’ve ya been? Oh ya know. Same ol’. Doing a lot of crying. The usual.
I am, clinically, very un-chill. Chronically unchill. And my crying doesn’t feel chill either. I full-on ugly cry. I sob, I heave, I ooze snot. If I have a little cry, it’s me warming up for the big cry I can have later when I’m home. The little cries don’t do shit. I just feel all the tears brimming under my skin, waiting for when they can finally be released.
And when I think about the state of the world; how hard the world works to devalue art and writing and creativity, the work I’ve dedicated myself to; how much some people (a tiny, screaming minority) hate queer and trans people like me; about our growing cost of living crisis and the growing threat of homelessness amongst so many of my friends; frankly, if you’re not crying, I wonder if you’re paying attention.
Crying is cathartic. I made it the heading as a joke, but I do believe it. You don’t cry for no reason: you cry because something inside you needed to be released, one way or the other, so you might as well cry. Otherwise, all those tangled emotions just stay locked up inside until it’s too late to hide, and you end up scream-crying on a train.
I don’t have any control over what things make me cry (like why do I cry every other time I’m learning to drive?), but I at least know that some things are DEFINITELY going to make me cry. That makes me feel good. When I can feel I’ve tried to make it through the week with too many little cries, and I can feel the tears bulging behind my eyes and making my head ache, I know I have things I can turn to that’ll a.) turn on the waterworks and b.) make me feel okay about it. Because it’s good to cry. It’s cathartic.
Here is my non-exhaustive list of things I can reliably turn to when I need to cry:
Being reminded of the scene in Moana where her grandmother is comforting her when she’s ready to give up, and then she decides actually she is STRONG and CAPABLE and she comes from a family of VOYAGERS and I AM MOANAAAAA.
Dear Zachary, ( but if you don’t know this doco, please check Wikipedia or DoesTheDogDie for content warnings first. )
The second half of Hamilton because I’m a basic musical bitch
Fun Home because I’m also a queer basic musical bitch; Ring of Keys and Telephone Wire get me all the damn time
Your Life, by Andrea Gibson
It doesn’t take a genius to note the many similarities around what makes me cry.
That’s my list. What do you do when want to cry?
Thanks for reading! (and for not commenting on how long it’s been since my last email). Have several treats:
Newsworthy treat: 150 African Workers for ChatGPT, TikTok and Facebook Vote to Unionize at Landmark Nairobi Meeting
Musical treat:
Last treat:
Comic by Miranda Harmon