This is how I felt today when I went to a neurologist to find out what the hell is going on with my body. Simply put, he asked what was going on, and I replied with a gushing of choking snot filled tears that basically resembled Niagra falls dam breaking.
Except this was all over his office. Poor man. He was nice too. Probably thinks I'm a psycho.
Hence my post regarding "opening the flood gates.". I know I have shared this feeling with plenty of women, but I also know some men who have experienced this too. It's so challenging to keep your composure without breaking down into a pile of salty boneless flesh, and yet you happen to pull it off for months on end with the neat and easy reply, "I'm fine, and you?". Banking on the fact people will most often talk about themselves (hell, I talk about myself all the time) it's not much more management past that... because they're onto their own topics. BUT... When someone has you cornered like a raccoon raiding your trash can that you just flashed your light on, you can't help but feel as if you're a toilet and someone just flushed you. Sit and whirl in your panic filled tears baby, sit and whirl...
1. Darting eyes avoiding contact (nope I'm not gonna cry, dammit).
2. Mistakenly look them in the eye as catch their concern for your emotional well being (shoot, now the first chip of mortar has dropped from the foundation).
3. Lips are quivering, and you breathe loudly (stop it!!! Stop it NOW! YOU HAVE THE POWER!!!).
4. Voice wavers, lips quivering, tears start to shed (it's too late you just can't stop it now...), you apologize for your demeanor to this poor soul encountering your emotionally disturbing verbal sludge.
5. Number 5 is the second to last stage after you have been left a shell of a being (literally you just lost like 85% of your water so you *really* are like a shell) and feeling shamed for your lack of control over your emotions.
I LOATHE this phase in the flood gate mass exodus timeline. You're sitting there, calmly sniffling, several nose blows, and breathing normal again. Convinced this person thinks I am crazy beyond belief, I just decide to deal with the walk of shame out of his office. Damn it, I only wish my eyes didn't look like Sugar Ray after a prize fight. My blood red, half swollen eyes sure as hell give away that I'm an emotional wreck (or i look like a meth addict?).
Then, the final episode... You explode into emotional tears to the extent you're now severely dehydrated on top of being an emotional snot filled mess. Much like the second gush of water that comes out of the tub after you shut the shower off. You think you're done, step away, regroup - then nope... Grab your kleenex, and some Tracy Chapman. This is usually in the car, parked at the nearest strip mall, hidden tactfully in the section where the delivery trucks park to unload their merchandise.
Now having written this, I realize the trick to composing yourself before a doctors appointment. Bawl your eyes out BEFORE the appointment, and your golden.
Must keep this in mind for my next emotionally explosive "cleansing"...