[listen above, read below]
Hey guys, it's Jen.
Um, I wanted to talk about crying in public, because that sure has been happening for me a lot lately, and I'm kind of starting to get embarrassed by myself.
I've always been a whiny child because I've always felt unwell. And recently, I've decided to let myself release the pain via tears in public. I've also, you know, been really embracing my luteal phase, and just accepting that I'm going to be sad and crappy. So that's helped a lot. And it feels SO good to cry though, it really does, it really helps. Even though it really… it makes me look like a crazy person. You think you're going to cry forever when you start. And then about three seconds later, you're finished because the hormones have been released.
The first time I did this recently, I was waiting and waiting for the bus. Coming home from work, I have to take two buses. On the first bus, I began developing the symptoms of a full body migraine, which is pretty common for me. After a while, it just became too long, waiting for the second bus in the hot sun. Google Maps kept saying that there was a delay, a delay, a delay.
So I started walking home. It's only about a mile. The air was cool enough, cooler than the bus would be, with the ambient temperature. But that didn’t stop my body from aching so much, in a way that is just so deep inside of me, that it feels like there is another universe in there. It feels like there is a black hole of pain that exists inside of my body, somewhere between my back and my front. Somewhere in there, there is a whole universe of pain, and so I cry.
I cried while walking up the road, just a nice hum of a good whirring whine. Nobody was around, it was fine. And then somebody was around, just briefly, quickly walking past me. And then he kind of stopped and he turned. He said, are you okay? He didn't say it like that. That's how I would say it. He said, he said it with, like, real concern, um, which I definitely appreciated. And I didn't stop crying, I just held up my hand and nodded very slowly. If that guy ever hears this: Thank you, that was very kind. The next person may actually not be okay. Um, but I was fine, there's nothing anybody could have done. It just fucking hurts sometimes, and sometimes I am just fucking tired.
Which brings me to, gosh, there must have been another time I cried in between, surely. But this brings me to the other night at my boyfriend's show, where I just wore myself out. I just was out past my bedtime. I should have known better. But after a certain point, I didn't think about it, and then I was angry at him while waiting for the bus, or for a car, or for a taxi, all of whom weren't going to be there for an hour. I felt so trapped and hopeless and exhausted, like I just wanted to lay down on the sidewalk and never wake up.
Since we had so much time, my boyfriend walked away to go buy a pack of cigarettes from a store nearby, and I stood with our stuff, against a fence in the dark, and just cried. So tired, so angry, that I had done this to myself, but also angry at his desire to go out, which is another thing I'll get into later. So I cried.
I cried a tiny whimper cry, the kind that people probably say, if you hear it outside your window you should ignore it because it's probably a kidnapping trap. I cried that kind of cry, this little tiny delicate cry. Then my boyfriend reappeared and somebody was five feet behind him, and I could tell— I recognized that person, he was the photographer from my boyfriend's show, and he was going to say something to us. Perhaps hey man, great show. Perhaps do you know when this bus comes? Perhaps do you guys want to split a taxi? But he didn't say any of those things because I was crying.
And my boyfriend said, why are you crying? And I said, because I'm tired, and I'm cold, and I'm over it, and I'm done, and I just never want to come out again, I mean it!
And this guy, this poor photographer man, I'm sure he thought he walked into something that was already emotionally occurring between us. And it was really just me. So, he walked across the street and called a car of his own. And his car got there WAY before ours. So that was nice. So if that guy hears this: I am so sorry, and it is not what it looked like. I've a little bit of tism, perhaps, and I am very hypersensitive and my batteries ran out. Babe and I were not fighting— I mean, OK, so I was like mad at him, but we weren't fighting. There was like, no drama. But that's awkward because, again, I'm just crying in public.
I remembered the other time babe and I were on the way to an art show in a completely different neighborhood that required like a four bus transfer and I was too fucking hot. Too hot. I had a jacket and a hat on and boots. I was too hot. One of them had to go, even though it was a whole look.
When we got to our first transfer point, I realized that I didn't have my weed. And, in case you don't know, I would not call myself an addict, but I would not be surprised if you did. I am fully dependent on weed. It has made me a different, and better person. And as soon as… As soon as those molecules begin to leave my body, I become a raging Tuesday.
Anyway, I realized that I didn't have my weed. All the places we’d gone! This means I dropped it somewhere on the way… And I’d just bought the new rig, and I’d just bought the new gram. We had to go back…
We went to a [weed] store near where we were when I made this discovery— It's so difficult for me not to rant about weed right now, too. But basically, I refuse to pay the prices that exist at this store. I've paid them once, fucking ridiculous to ever pay them again. I will never go there, I do not care that they are a neighborhood business. Suck my dick. $65 for a disposable. Eat my bloody asshole. Where was I?
So, because I refuse to pay those weed prices, we leave the store. We're walking up the block and the sun is beating down on me. I've already taken my hat off, and I have terrible sweaty hat hair. And I'm… I just start crying. I feel like absolute shit. I'm upset, and I just start crying a little bit. Really just a kind of annoying toddler cry. Just a general, a general waanh.
Babe's like, why are you crying? And I can tell that he's frustrated. But I know that he'll understand that three bad things are happening to me at once and it's just too much. Think about it: Who wouldn't be upset if they dropped something that they had just paid for? And on top of that, were experiencing physical discomfort? And now we have to double back and we're going to be late? And that's my fault, too, because of the first two things. Well, because of the weed thing. And then the hot thing is just like the icing on the cake of annoyance. And he understood.
You can argue about how sensitive somebody could be to be experiencing physical discomfort when faced with medium heat in the medium sun. So the degree of discomfort, irrelevant. If you've got it, you understand. And he understood, there's just too much going on.
We went to the CVS where we had been just before. They didn't see anything. And honestly, all those kids there are cool, so I'm pretty sure they would not have taken it. Also, it's still COVID a little bit, so no, gross.
We get all the way back to the apartment where my weed is just sitting on a chair. It's just sitting on top of the chair, perhaps where I packed my purse. I'm not sure, I have no idea. Having found my weed, I have the opportunity to change my clothes. Fucking fantastic. And I feel better because I've cried.
The first time I cried in public this year was Valentine's Day. He had bought us tickets to a local festival. Unfortunately, earlier in the week he’d left his ID at the dentist when he needed it to claim the tickets at the will call. When he realized that that happened he just asked the person at the gate if he could just buy a new set of tickets and the person at the gate pointed out that he didn't have his ID and it was a 21 and over event so he wouldn't be able to come anyway. Which was like a mega fucking tactical bummer on multiple levels.
And I felt so bad for how much he tried. I was so, so sad for him, for how much he was looking forward to this, for how much effort he had put in. And I started to cry. I'm going to do it right now. I was just sad for him. And he was like, why are you crying?And I said, because I'm sad for you, because I'm sad that you tried to put this together and it didn't work out. And that's a big fucking tactical bummer.
I can't remember what we did after that. I think we got a slice of pizza and a beer, and then we took the bus home. Which is still a great night to spend time with him, but… Like, shit, that was a big bummer.
Everybody's done it, so why don't you guys share your stories, too? Email me at jenscuts.substack@gmail.com and I'll read some of them. If this reaches anybody. Thank you for listening to this brief thought I had on crying in public recently. Man, give a cry and tell me about it.
