Confessions of the Lachrymose
It seems I was thoroughly misunderstood in my last post. I got calls from concerned friends telling me to be strong-hearted 'cause life is tough and I'll face worse situations. I've decided to write this to explain what I casually said then. Maybe someone would be able to relate to it and proffer help based on experience.
There are some people that have larger tear glands than others. They say they have the gift of tears. They are not necessarily emotional people. A lot of times their crying has nothing to do with how they feel about the situation they are crying about. Let me tell you how it is with me.
I could cry wolf in emotional events and I could cry same in ordinary events. I cry when I see excellence displayed like when I'm in a concert, watching a singer or a dancer. I remember crying the first time I saw Jackie Evancho's YouTube videos. I still cry when I watch those performances she did when she was ten/eleven. It's understandable that I cried for Passion of the Christ but amusing to some that I wailed while watching Akeelah and the bee. I cry in situations when I feel humiliated. The other day, I was to alight from a bus. The driver had refused to stop completely, expecting us to jump off while it was still in motion. The lady before me jumped off and as I was about to join her, the bus sprinted off, sending me sprawling across the tarmac. I felt so humiliated. By the time I turned to the driver who had by now stopped (I'm guessing under the influence of raged passengers), I burst into tears. I tried to stop it but I only cried the more. I boarded a Napep and still couldn't stop crying though I didn't incur any injury as to make me cry. The motherly woman beside me noticed and pepped me up. 'Don't worry Jesus knows your pain', she said. I wished I could tell her 'don't worry ma'am. I'm fine', but she wouldn't have believed me.
Recently, I went to submit an application in LUTH for myself and my friends. I had convinced one of them to give it a try though she hadn't finished Youth Service. I had gone through all the rigors: going to the cyber cafe, bank, filling forms, making photocopies, I had reached the last stage- time to submit. Then the man said he had closed 'cause it was past 4pm. I persisted, begged, bought him Malt to cool his brain, yet he was adamant. After much dilly dallying, he finally agreed, sulkily. While he was sorting out the forms, he noticed one didn't have NYSC cert. You should have seen the glee on his face as he gave me back that form and led me to the door. He practically threw me out of his office and locked it up. I didn't follow him out immediately because I was already sobbing. I didn't want him to see me crying. I wasn't crying for being thrown out of the office but for the fact that I was the one who encouraged my friend to apply and she had gone through the rigors of sending the forms through her brother, even the money she wasted buying it.
You should understand that in these situations, I did not want to cry. It is rather embarrassing to see an adult cry like that in public. If I could voluntarily stop it, I would have. I wasn't seeking attention. In fact, I try to run away from such situations and when it happens I try to stay on my own so as not to cause a scene.
My lachrymosity comes in handy when a crying role is needed in our plays. Because it comes easy, I do it perfectly and people think 'Oh, she's such a good actress'. Lol. Sometimes, it paves way for me. Like once I was in a bank, after standing on queue for 4 hours, it was finally my turn and the teller said she was sorry, that their server was bad. I didn't know when tears began to roll down my cheeks. She noticed and asked what was wrong. I said nothing. She went inside, talked to someone, came out and collected my slip, processed it in an inner office and handed me my money. Or once I went to complain at EKEDC office about the disconnection of our power supply. I was talking in anger and next I knew I began to cry. The poor man was helpless, he didn't know when he asked me to sit down, called his foot soldiers to go reconnect it without me paying a dime of the proposed reconnection fee.
I'm easily moved to tears even in ordinary events like when someone is telling me a personal story, when I see someone else crying, when I'm accused wrongly or when I've been cheated. So yesterday's incident wasn't about the money. I hope you can now see where I was coming from. Just as you will never understand what it's like to be a stammerer unless you're one (and there are grades of severity), you might never understand what it's like to be lachrymose except you are.
©Radiant ~December 2015
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