I Get So Emotional, Baby

By now my proclivity for tears has become a bit of a joke. My son and one of my Angel friends have called me out for crying "because the sun came up today." I roll with it. At least they're giving me the attention I so deserve desperately crave.

Just your typical day for "feelers" like me!

If you want to label me a bit more accurately, I'm not strictly a crier. I think a better word might be "feeler." I experience a range of emotions in a really deep way. It's as if all the nerves that trigger emotions lie too close to the surface. As a result, tears and laughter come in equally easy measure. The same movie might elicit both, and if you're with me, you may be embarrassed by how freely I share them. If the reaction of strangers is of concern to you, I'll understand if you want to sit a few rows behind me. I should also warn you that I can get physical when frightened. Rob still has the scars of childbirth. Let's just say I held on to his hand really tightly.

In addition to those experiences that evoke a physical reaction, I also can feel overwhelming emotion in life's everyday moments. The daily news or a walk down the street can trigger heartache. The beauty of nature can hit me like a ton of bricks. Even my rare bouts with being content or peaceful are acute, nearly palpable.

Sometimes I think I possess some strange genetic disposition that causes me to observe and absorb more from the world than most people. Except I guess it's not genetic, because I'm pretty sure I'm the only one in my family built this way. My sister tries to avoid unpleasant feelings at all cost, and Abby seems immune to emotional distress. She may be the only person in America who didn't cry at The Fault in Our Stars, though she did confess that her eyes welled up a couple of times. I'm not going to see that movie, at least not in the theaters. Don't want to drown out the audio with my sobbing.

Given my tendency toward free-flowing tears or raucous laughter, one might think that I'd avoid situations that are likely to result in a total breakdown or complete hysteria. But here's the thing: I kind of like the depth of emotions that I experience. While I often will pass on books or movies that I know will cause me distress, when I stumble upon something that touches me, I embrace it rather than fight it. I don't see my emotions as a curse, but rather as a blessing. What a wonderful gift to be so alive and in touch with the world around me!

Having said all that, I should add that the level of emotion of which I speak, even when it's sadness, should not be confused with clinical depression, with which I also have plenty of experience. Perhaps those of us who struggle with this disease also tend to feel things more deeply than others, but they are not one in the same. Depression is a weight that drags you down, making your heart feel heavy regardless of the book you're reading, the movie you're watching or the evening news. In fact, one of the most frustrating things about it is how it settles in regardless of the reality of our lives. When you're suffering with depression, there's nothing worse than hearing "you have nothing to be unhappy about." Be assured that I know my life is nearly perfect, and I already feel badly about feeling bad for no logical reason.

Personally, I'm in a pretty good place these days. I'm lucky to have found a combination of things that work for me, including medication, exercise, wine and quiet time. And I'm happy to say that the antidepressants I take allow me to feel those range of emotions that I've described. If you're on meds that leave you feeling nothing--no highs or lows--I urge you to see your doctor, or a different doctor. There are ways to make the pain go away without shutting down all the feelings--good and bad--that make life worth living.

They say, next to anti-depressants, it's the best medicine

Frequent and loud laughter is the characteristic of folly and ill manners.
--Lord Chesterfield

Lord Chesterfield has my number, but then I never did like that guy. Yes, I laugh easily. I laugh heartily.  My laugh makes people laugh. My Freakin’ Angel friend Theresa told me it's one of the things she likes best about me. Though she added that there really isn't much else to choose from. Theresa recently reminded me of an occasion at a small movie theater in which she heard a woman’s loud distinctive laugh and told her husband, “I think that’s Kim.” Husband thought she was crazy. Rob and I ran into them leaving the theater. Yep. That was me.We still laugh about it. Ha.

It may seem to be a desperate subconscious cry for attention, but honestly, my laugh is genuine and heartfelt. It makes me feel good to laugh hard. As Charles Swindoll writes, “Laughter should come easily to a place characterized by joy.” It does that for me. Laughing removes all traces of sadness, stress, frustration, irritation, etc. I feel so wonderfully alive when laughing out loud, consumed by the moment.

I just wish I wasn’t often the only one laughing.  Like at church. Or my child’s school assembly (where the kids turn around to look at me instead of paying attention to the speaker). Or in the theater.  It seems what I find laugh-out-loud funny is often not what others perceive worthy of a hearty chuckle. I have a soft spot for dry humor, smart humor, and snarky humor (no kidding). Comedians Jim Gaffigan, Chris Rock, and Jerry Seinfeld are favorites. And I still miss Dennis Miller on Saturday Night Live’s Weekend Update. I think being quick-witted is an exceptional trait (my son Ian is among the gifted) and I can appreciate light-hearted, good-for-the-soul attempts to make me laugh (as found in many a forwarded email joke and those cute BBC talking animal videos).   

I think the Three Stooges and most Jim Carrey movies are stupid, I’ve never been a Lucille Ball fan, and potty humor doesn’t do much for me either.

Humor does not appear to be a genetic trait. I think my funny bone is substantially larger than that of either of my parents (though on the occasions that my dad does laugh out loud, it’s worth the wait) or my sister (though when she gets going, her laugh itself is hysterical). While Ian has a terrific sense of humor, Abby may have been born without a funny bone. After watching the BBC talking animal video, she asked, “Why is that funny? Animals don’t really talk, you know.” And she saw no laughter potential in the Muppets, which breaks my heart.

Another side to having a sense of humor and embracing life’s laugh track, is being eager to make others laugh. This is one of my goals in life, born out of necessity and pain, of course. Like many a comedian, my desire to make others laugh masks a deep insecurity and need for validation. Somewhere around the age of six months, when I first realized I was not like everyone else, I made it my life's work to distract from my differences by creating laughter, even at my own expense. I'm still working it out in therapy, but don't let that stop you from finding me amusing. 

In my next post, I'll share how I cry easily, cry heartily, and how my cry makes other people cry. Have your tissues ready.