It’s 1:35 a.m. on a Sunday night. They say nothing good happens after midnight, and if you’ve ever experienced final exams as a college student, you know this to be all too true. I’m laying in bed. I should be sitting upright, with the lights on, typing away at my desk - but no, I’m laying in bed, my room illuminated only by the laptop resting on my stomach. It’s been a rough night, and I can’t see it getting any better.
I have a lot of things going on. Besides the 10 page research paper I have due in three days, my school week is filled with a slew of tests, projects and other obligations. I haven’t figured out travel plans for the trip home I’m taking in a week. My whole body aches from lack of sleep and my throat hurts from what WebMD tells me is either a common cold or West Nile virus. And on top of that, I’m not even sure if my bank account balance is a positive integer.
As I’m laying there, listening to Adele and minding my own business, my brain decides to remind me about all of my failures and insecurities. There’s something about the way she hits that high note in “When We Were Young” that always brings a tear to my eye. Well, on this particular night, one tear turns into many more. And just like that: I’m in my feelings.
You're probably wondering, "Marin, why did you share this with strangers on the internet? Why would you admit that you cry alone in your room?"
Doesn’t everyone?
No, seriously, aren’t we all just emotional wrecks in our purest element? Since the dawn of time, humans have responded to times of distress and sorrow by shedding tears. Our brains are wired to do this. Sure, maybe some people repress their feelings more than others. But everybody cries. If this is true, why not treat a natural human activity for what it is?
Crying is quite distinct from my other recreational activities, like baking or dance, for example. It’s a little more impromptu and a lot less socially acceptable. But when I started seeing crying as a form of personal catharsis rather than as a sign of some sort of emotional incompetence, my perspective really changed.
I used to hold in my tears, even when I was by myself, because I thought that for some reason it was wrong to cry over certain things. Although sobbing at a funeral is far more understandable than crying because your debit card got declined in public, sometimes a series of mishaps in our daily lives can get overwhelming. All it takes is one little incident to break a long-awaited dam of tears. Heck, it might not even be an actual life event -- I’ve cried over plenty of movie scenes and songs (thanks, Adele). But when I’m done, I dry my eyes, wipe my face, and go on about my day. (Actually, I usually go to sleep, but that’s an op-ed for another day.)
Surprisingly enough, letting yourself fall apart every once in awhile can help you feel more collected. That’s the value of an old-fashioned, messy, tears-streaming-down-the-face crying session.
I don’t always listen to Adele by myself in the darkness. I also don’t always have research papers due or stay up impossibly late at night. But life happens. So go ahead, have a good cry.
