Don't get me wrong, I can cry. I have been an outright crybaby at certain times in my life. During chaotic and uncertain times, when I am heightened. When my fight or flight mode is activated, yes I cry. I cry an awful lot during those times. 

For example, when my children were school-aged, I cried a great deal. I cried ever so much. I probably cried more than I didn't cry. I had to advocate a lot for my children being that they are both neurodivergent. It was especially difficult advocating for my son because his autism was causing a great many behavioural issues at school. Even with having his own educational assistant, there were a lot of problems. 

The thing is, most of his meltdowns could have been prevented. The adults around him often became triggered and were too authoritarian. It's not their fault, they were not qualified. It is a damn good thing our son was cute, or I think he would have been treated much worse. One time, a friend of mine who volunteered at the school saw my son's worker sitting on his chest, saying, "How do you like that?"

I fought, and I fought hard. And the tears, they did flow. It's hard to be taken seriously by professionals when you are constantly in tears. I worked at my children's school, and I was constantly having to see how much my child was suffering. I knew that his suffering was very preventable. It is so hard to make people listen. Thankfully some qualified professionals helped me to advocate for my child. 

But I digress. I cried a lot back then because of the deep empathy I had for my children and my feeling of powerlessness, of being unable to help them. Sometimes it felt like I was reliving my childhood. And why the fuk do some teachers and educational assistants talk to kids the way they do? You can be firm without using that tone of voice. That voice sets me on edge. 

Additionally, I can cry when I am feeling afraid. Once when I was amid my addiction, I was at this guy's house. The guy I bought from was playing games with me as he always did. Pretending he didn't have anything for me, or wasn't sure. He did this every time, and then after a while, low and behold, there it was. Anyway, this guy had a friend over. His friend, upon hearing the guy's usual nonsense, said he had it and would sell it to me. Anyway, a huge fight broke out. The guy I normally bought from, went ballistic. It was a drug-induced thing, I am sure. It was incredibly frightening for me.

I felt so alone, sitting in that chair, in that man's house. I wanted nothing more than to be safe at home with my family. I was frozen. And my physical need for this drug kept me there. I began to cry. The guy calmed down and apologized profusely to me. Things went back to being calm. But this guy had scared me to death. I felt how dangerous he was. I knew I wasn't safe. I did finally get what I had come to buy and I was ever so happy to be home with my family after that experience. I wish I could say that, that experience woke me up, but alas, it took me a little while longer to finally have the motivation to help myself. 

Another way I can cry is when I feel unloved by someone. When I feel rejected by any important person in my life. I have an insecure attachment style and any perceived rejection is extremely painful for me. BUT!!! Take heed, I am now, for the most part, very secure in all my relationships. I had a mentor once, who I became incredibly attached to. Oh what a nightmare that was, for both of us.

They are no longer my mentor, but they are my friend. But yeah, I cried a lot back then when I perceived that I was rejected by them and that they didn't care. I also became suspicious of them. It turned into a delusion where I was convinced they were a cult leader and that the cult was trying to kidnap me. I was convinced that they had stolen all of my writing, that they had hacked into my laptop. I believed that they were spying on me through the laptop camera. 

What an awful time that was. I spent a month in the psych ward. The experience I had there was quite enjoyable. I made friends and hung out with them in the smoking pit. We trauma bonded with each other. A whole other topic.

I think my days of extremely insecure attachments are over. Oh, I had also gotten overly attached to my counsellor. He was funded by the government and when his contract was up, we had to say goodbye. Oh, how I cried. But they are now my private counsellor and if I need them, they are there. In the spring I will be having sessions again. The thing is, I am quite settled in my life at the moment. They are mostly beneficial by giving me someone to talk to.

So, it has been established that I can cry when it comes to feeling powerless to help my children or when I feel rejected and unloved. I can cry when someone I am attached to has to leave. I used to cry a lot when my partner had to go away to work somewhere. Oh, how I cried.

But when it comes to grieving, why in the goddamn hell can't I cry? I feel the grief, I feel the pain. But I shut down. I am frozen. I will cry a little. But not nearly as much as I wish I could. I did cry watching our previous dog get euthanized. But before that, waiting in the vet's office, knowing this was the last moment we could spend with our dog, I behaved Indifferently. 

And my mama passed away two years ago. I cried for a few moments, and that is all. There is pain and grief, but no tears. Something in me shuts down. That last step in the grieving process is stunted. I know I am grieving for mama because I dream about her every single night. I feel a spot in my chest area, where she lives. That is where all of my unshed tears live. They are waiting to come out.

With a lot of my pets, once they were gone, I forgot about them. There was an intense sadness while it was happening. It was horrible. But afterwards, I shut myself down and did not process the grief.

I can cry watching shows or movies that are sad. It's so weird. Maybe that is a way that I can express my grief safely and distantly. When I rewatched 'The Dead Poets Society,' at the end, when the kid committed suicide, and the father's grief and remorse was acted so realistically, I broke. I cried for three hours straight. 

Anyway, if anyone else experiences this inability to cry, please feel welcome to share your experience with me. Idk. Today's writing prompt has gotten me thinking about how I process loss. Because losing pets doesn't make me break down the way that I feel I should, given how intensely I loved them. There was a time when I was more indifferent to our animals. Where I was unable to fully bond with them. That is another story tho.

Thank you, everyone, for reading my stuff.