I don’t put my heart on the line over Twitter or Facebook. Or ever really. I’m a pretty private person … oh and I like to think of myself as a bit of a ‘double-hard bastard.’ (Fans of Game On will hopefully get that reference.) I don’t tell all and sundry when I’m feeling crap, low or just generally all round ‘meh.’ Understand why some people do, but I normally turn to my Other Half to off-load at the weekend. Otherwise, it just gets stored up. And I’m definitely, definitely too busy to cry.
My Other Half works away all week, so sometimes I can’t get hold of him because he’s in a meeting, or … I just don’t want to impose, and I end up feeling … a little lost.
I’m totally wrong of course. I know I can always call him and he’ll always be there, no matter what, but I like to think I can cope on my own. What kind of woman would I be if I went crying to him every time I felt rubbish? (I’ll come back to that point!)
He knows that he doesn’t really have to say much … just venting is all I need … but I struggle on, thinking I’ll be just fine.
And then the slightest, smallest, most inconsequential thing will bitch slap me upside the head and today I found myself sat crying in my café, looking and feeling like an idiot, trying desperately to rub my mascara-streaked face with half a dirty napkin.
(Why can’t I look like Marilyn Monroe when I cry? A ladylike sniff and one, lone, solitary tear rolling down my face? Instead, there’s snot, mascara and a whole lotta nose blowing.)
Crying isn’t a common occurrence for me. I’ve always been old skool and believed that not crying is a sign of strength. Not breaking down in front of people is how you really show how well you’re coping. Unfortunately, as I’ve learnt over the years, the truth will always out and when you least expect it ….. BAM! … the floodgates are opened and you’re left wondering, where the feck did that come from?
Take today. I come to my café nearly every day to work (and drink coffee and eat cake. But primarily to work.) I’m used to what type of people come here. I still like to feel like I’m one of the youngest … hey, gotta get my kicks where I can, and I see couples, old people, babies and mums and daughters for the most part.
That last demographic – mums and daughters – always touches a raw nerve but usually I can cope. It is what it is. My mum isn’t here anymore and sometimes, I get jealous. There, I said it. I’m jealous of every single one of you who still has their mum around. Even if they annoy the hell out of you (and believe me, I know my mum wasn’t perfect,) but you still have them in your life.
I don’t … and it sucks.
So, as I sat there crying like a moron, I mentioned on Twitter what happened. I didn’t want to trouble my OH or BFF. So I just said:
… and immediately a handful of my favourite Twitter friends (you know who you are,) replied back with just what I needed. No solutions, no telling me what to do. Just a hug (albeit a cyber one) and I was left with a feeling that even though I might sometimes feel like I’m on my own, I’m not. There are people in my life that give a shit.
It was all I needed.
I’ll have a long chat with my Other Half tonight when I feel like I don’t have to rush and I can just ‘be.’ And in the meantime … I’ll go to Skig’s Leaver’s Service at church with my teen, I’ll do the shopping, cleaning, more writing, paying bills and life will be just as it always is – a challenge, full of surprises and wonderfully busy.
For better or worse.
So in answer to my own question … “What kind of woman would I be if I went crying to my Other Half every time I felt bad?” …. I think I’d just be a woman who does her best to cope. Someone who, for the most part, likes to be private. Someone who struggles with admitting when they feel sad. Someone who doesn’t like to impose. A woman who, at 40, still misses her mum and someone who sometimes … just needs a cuddle – cyber or otherwise.
So if any of you are feeling a bit ‘meh’ … and you’re like me, too busy to cry or too proud to ask for help, this is for you. I’ll be getting my real cuddle on Friday night – and I can’t wait.