Why I Screamed In a Recent Comment and Why Am I Crying At the Drop of a Hat?

June 9, 2008 in Facts About Patient Anonymous, Fiction is Stranger Than Life, Life is Stranger Than Fiction, You Decide

I’m going to do this a little backwards and write a post before I get to my outstanding comments. I always respond to my comments first.

I wrote in a comment last night: “Stay tuned for my next post after this that had me BAWLING MY FUCKING EYES OUT TONIGHT!”

Erm…yes. I actually had to sign off, leave the rest of the comments that came flooding in re: other posts and just say, “ENOUGH!” Yes, more block caps. I’ll get to you Gabriel… on that one per your comment! It’s not really about me shouting in the comment or me crying, by the way.

However, yesterday that is what I woke up to, ironically. Since I have been laid off, I have obviously been spending more time at home. The upstairs tenant used to run her own business from home and she has been gone every day, all day. Another job elsewhere? I have not seen her so I have not asked.

Well, yesterday. OMG, what a thing to wake up to! There was all of this screaming and crying! In my bleary-eyed and foggy state, I had no idea what was going on. As I became more clear, I realised she was on the telephone. I heard nothing else but her voice and her “fairy elephant” feet (a nod to fishwithoutbicycle for that one.) It’s a term from England where you think someone who would be light on their feet are certainly not! It gave me a real laugh when I heard that one.

Anyway, the yelling, the screaming, the crying continued all day. I was so worried for her. Of course, not wanting to eavesdrop–but I couldn’t help picking up on some of it–it was so loud and right above me! It seemed to be a problem with her partner or boyfriend? I’ve never met him and didn’t even know if she had one.

Then things started to get really interesting. Or potentially frightening? Some guy showed up. The front porch is right behind my bedroom window. I tried not to make it obvious but I peeked out from behind my blinds a bit. There was another woman with my upstairs tenant (for safety, support?) This guy was freaking out! My upstairs tenant seemed a bit more calm but then later in the evening, more loud, screamy, tearful phone calls.

I had to go out later. Damn, when does the store close? I need milk!

When I got home, we crossed paths. Oh, awkward. I basically said that I knew it was none of my business but was she alright? She said she was and apologised for the “yelling and screaming.” I said to her that, no, that wasn’t a problem, nor the issue. It was her. Again, was she alright! I offered up myself to her to talk anytime or if she needed anything. She thanked me and then walked away.

It was at that point, I just fell apart. I started, yes, bawling my eyes out like a little baby. Really, these days…what isn’t making PA bawl her eyes out? I am tearing up even as I write this post.

I have mentioned this before and it may be hard to grasp but when I speak (have spoken) to at least professionals, they have never batted an eyelash. When I was a child, I was so incredibly sensitive, I was basically “empathic.” I know, it makes me sound like I am making myself out to be Deanna Troy from Star Trek: The Next Generation. But it’s true. I could just “sense” peoples’ feelings–mostly negative. Well, gee, pretty much all negative?!

I have a clear memory of sitting on a public transit bus in my home town across from a woman who was overweight. I could just feel how unhappy she was, even though there were no blatant “signals.” She wasn’t crying or she didn’t have any “sad” look on her face. Immediately afterward, some kids started teasing her about her weight. I was shocked by this.

I could feel it with children, as well. It was this “visceral thing.” I know, I know…this all sounds so out of this world, unbelievably ridiculous, “PA thinks she’s psychic or has ESP!”

As a result of this (and many other things), I used to cry so much. I was nicknamed, “Cry Baby” by everyone. When I grew into adulthood, I repressed those “feelings.” I repressed my tears. I simply somehow shut it all off and began to live in my head more and more. That is not to say that I do not feel at all! That is not to say that I can not be sympathetic or even still, empathetic to someone’s situation if I realise that I have “been there too.”

I don’t necessarily believe or even know that these types of feelings are coming back. What I do know is that I am beginning to cry so damn easily as I did when a child. I am starting to feel pain from damn near everywhere like I am a completely exposed nerve.