Help your boy.
I’m on a train right now having put myself together from a breakdown in which I ended up crying in Basingstoke.
I’m on my way to an event.
3 Americans and a Brit got on the train at Woking. 2 men 2 women. The Brit was the man, plus an American man named James.
They clearly have day plans in London but James wanted to pick up something in Slough for his parents.They got on at Woking.
The friends we’re trying to convince him not to mess up their day plans because the store had done a 180 on this dude. He seemed really upset about it. He shed some tears then went to cry in the toilet, came back, “game face” and brushed it off.
I contend that anything important to make a grown man cry in public is important enough to mess up your day plans. Don’t play cute and happy knowing you have your way. Like this man’s so called friends.
I found it manipulative and cruel. Like this man was a dog to be petted and kept down. People don’t cry in public. Especially in front of strangers(me.) I don’t know that man from Adam, but I could tell from his face when he came back from the toilet that he was not okay. Jaw clenched, not making eye contact with his so called friends. He was a little embarrassed to be in this situation and tried brushing it off. I felt a rush of sympathy for him. Whatever the errand in Slough, it was clear it meant something to him. People are pretty well self regulated. So unless he’s mentally a 2 year old then he’s got good reason behind his tears. I haven’t seen a man cry in a long time. My dad didn’t cry while being in pain and dying. That was his personality however, like mine, before I started to crumble.
Sometimes I don’t even recognise myself anymore.
I had an anxiety attack today for several hours and it was debilitating, I couldn’t function. I was visibly agitated, ended up crying in public out of fear, exhaustion and desperation. I literally woke up like this. I have a very small support group and whenever I fall through the cracks I fall hard. It hurts. This was a case of that. A couple of people asked me if I was okay. God bless them. I’m not okay. I need rest. God help me.
People sometimes aren’t okay. So if someone shares something important with you, treasure that, and do your best to hold their hearts gently in your hands. It could be the difference between a mental breakdown and crisis averted.
Grace and Courage
Annetta Mother-Smith