Sometimes you just gotta....

Don't cry, sweetie.
  I know you have been trying so hard...

Why is it that when the strongest need a release, they are told not to?  Release, that is.... albeit a good hard cry to just let it all go.  I swear, I am a walking pressure cooker of control.  I hold in my frustrations, I hold back my sorrow, and do my best to look happy when I am at my worst.

With years of practice of emulating June Cleaver with my ability to cook, clean, and rear the child with a smile on my face is getting a bit much.  Regardless of how my day truly is, DH holds little patience in hearing me vent about my day and after many sternly worded comments about my attitude needing some serious adjustment... I grit my teeth and put on my best act that everything is just perfect.  Otherwise, expressing that I am human is only getting me into trouble when it comes to DH.  Sleep deprived?  Suck it up!  Hungover from the once a month outing with friends?  Better act like it never happened!  Sad about something?  Plaster a smile on your face!  In pain?  Crack jokes about it!  Mad about something?  Keep it to yourself!  The only allowed emotion is to be HAPPY, HAPPY, HAPPY!!!  ACK!! Pass the Prozac, people!  It is supposed to be a happy fest!!

You all may see this as I am living in a very unfair existence, I have managed to learn something from this....

Who really wants to deal with an emotional being?  Saying "sorry" to a person's personal demise does not come close to mending the tear in a person's heart.  Life is not meant to be easy.  We all have our crosses to bear; our issues to deal with.  Yes, DH has made it crystal clear that since I am a stay at home caregiver, I should not be having such emotional issues that require his assistance... even if I am not actually asking for assistance... just release.  In fact, he sees my current career of caring for the family first as a perpetual vacation from reality.  When things were getting hard financially, I was told to find a job that does not interfere with my current responsibilities of keeping the house clean, the laundry up to snuff, raise our child, and having a hot meal waiting for DH when he gets home.  Yep, the classic television of Leave it to Beaver, The Brady Bunch, and the even more squeaky clean family dynamic of Ozzie and Harriet Nelson are what DH sees as what the ideal family life is supposed to be.  Apparently, those views are quite different than the modern age family that has computers, cell phones, and video games.  Kids these days have less respect for their parents and as each generation whips by, we see kids achieving things their parents were never allowed to achieve when they were their age, but still, the notion of being a happy housewife all the time is a requirement.

DH came home from lunch as I was doubled over in agony.  Only two words can explain my situation without becoming a T.M.I. segment....  it sums up to....  "Woman's issues".  With Tylenol being popped like Tic Tac candies, heating pad firmly placed across my lower stomach area and a greenish tinge to my skin (severe pain makes me nauseous), I had to plant a smile on my face and look all excited that I was blessed with his presence.  After he leaves, the phone rings.  It is the person that did a phone interview with me for a job at the local high school last week.  So local, I could walk there.  The job....  Student Supervisor (aka hall monitor).  Ideal for me since it is the only job that mimics DD's school schedule and the hours are quite similar.  This allows me to be home when she is and home early enough each day to run around like a lunatic to keep up with my daily chores that usually take me all day to accomplish.  At least if something was done....  DH's stern words are held at bay.  Well, I have been applying for this job at least a half dozen times over the past 2 years.  I am on the substitute list and can get called in to help if someone calls in sick, but it is far from something that offers a consistent paycheck.  Every time I apply, I put my best foot forward and yet again get passed up for the opportunity.

Getting rejected for a job is getting quite tiresome, but I have managed to handle the rejection quite well over the years.  It was just the icing on an already miserable cake that set me to crying.  When the tears were about to go pouring down, I called my mom to tell her about the recent rejection for a job.  Thinking I had everything under control, I get the usual, "sorry to hear that".  When my breathing started to hitch with sadness, I got yet the reminder that crying does not fix anything.  That, of course, beings me back to the words my father told me.... "Crying is a sign of weakness.  If you want people to see how strong you are, you need to not cry in front of them."  I swear, I took pride that I did not cry when I broke my ankle years back, I did not cry while giving birth to my daughter, I did not cry when I was doubled over in agony before my gall bladder needed to be removed....  Yep, I have been one tough cookie and my dad should have been proud.  Sadly, I feel like I failed him because I decided that it is time to really let loose and cry very loudly after I hung up the phone.  I knew that if I did not.... I would definitely lose my mind.

Did you know, that after 5 minutes of really crying out loud, I actually feel better?  It was a much needed release.  Just letting the tears flow with my sobbing at full volume ended up being the one remedy for my always thinking mind.  I was able to look at that rejection call as just another minor setback that I will survive from.  With the small chant of "what does not kill me, makes me stronger", I was able to look calm and composed before DD came home from school.  Odds look pretty good that DH will not see me be emotional and can maintain the June Cleaver attitude when he gets home this evening.  I will even be able to handle hearing his emotional rants about his frustrating day and even his tense talking about the fact that I accomplished nothing I should have accomplished today.  At least a physical setback is understandable in his eyes.  As long as he does not hear all the details about it.  If it was an emotional setback.... well, that is just not an acceptable excuse.

So, if you are feeling like an emotional pressure cooker and you are nearing the explosion point.... take just 5 minutes alone and LET IT GO.  Scream, cry loudly, swear, rant, complain loudly, throw a pillow across the room.... whatever it takes to let off some steam.  Trust me.  You may feel ridiculous doing it, but afterwards, you will feel so much better.  It actually eases the weight upon your shoulders to a more tolerable level so you can move forward with your day.  Highly recommended!  Well, now I need to get back to my heating pad and pop a couple more Tylenol.  Maybe this round will make it possible to not want to throw up and maybe eat some dinner with DD while keeping DH's plate warm for him when he gets home.