Cloudy day in Port Stephens, Australia
I like to wallow in the clouds.
You know the ones: It’s a beautifully sunny day and the last thing anyone wants is for one of those funny shaped masses to roll by and scar the perfect sky.
But I do.
For me, those clouds mean a break from the heat, a break from having to squint my eyes and be sunny and having to live the moment.
I know that I lead an incredibly charmed life, and I’m more than grateful for that, but sometimes I need to steep myself in a little turmoil. I need to wake up and have time to break down and feel something. Putting on Something Corporate and having a good cry even if nothing is wrong makes me feel better. I’m a firm believer that listening to Everybody Hurts when you’re hurting is absolutely the best thing you can do for yourself.
I know that the doctor’s recommendation for a broken heart is to not think about it, to move on to greener pastures and that eventually, with time, the heart will heal itself. Frankly? I think that’s crap. I think it’s running away from a problem at its worst and that, especially in matters of the heart, you need to let yourself be broken. You need to be completely unreasonable and you need to go a little bit nuts. If you don’t? Either your heart isn’t actually broken or your in for a world of hurt when the feelings you were trying to run away from eventually hit.
And they’ll always hit.
Now – I’m not a sad person. Sarcastic as hell? Yes. Dry? Yes. But tangled in the deepest throes of depression? Absolutely not.
But when I’m having a sad day? I need it. Being told to cheer up? Sucks. I get that nobody likes a Debbie Downer, and I try to keep people out of my Greatest Hits of Breakup Music marathons lest I scar their sunny day. But in return, I want them to keep their sunshine out of my clouds. To let me have my moment and let me work through it by just being sad cheers me up more than hugs and promises that “everything will be OK.”
A good friend of mine used to yell at me every time I put on a song that was remotely tinged with emotion. She’d kill me right now watching me type away about broken hearts while listening to Matchbox 20. But this is therapy.
Being sad? The clouds? They feel good. I can stop squinting long enough to miss the sunshine and appreciate the clear skies when they return.
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