Tears

[Lucy Waterman]

I've been crying more lately than I have since I was a kid. That's what anxiety does. I'd rather not be specific, because then I'll start crying again, perhaps.

Hope you’re taking as much care of yourself as you can. For what it’s worth, when I’m at the bottom of anxiety and depression, I often feel like I WANT to cry but feel too isolated to be able to. So maybe your ability to cry is a good thing, that you can at least let those feelings out? But I may be wrong, just musing.

[Sporting]

When I moved in with my partner she already had a cat, whose name was Felina. I didn't particularly care for this cat, scratchy old moany thing that it was; and very soon afterwards I cared for it even less when it disobeyed our orders to kill a gigantic mouse that got into our bedroom. (In the end I got hold of the rodent by the tail and after being dissuaded from flushing it down the loo threw it on to the patio four floors down where it narrowly missed a woman who was cleaning.)

Our son was born and came to like the cat more than I did. Anyway, when Felina was 17 she began to slow down, lose her appetite, vomit more; and then a lump appeared on her body.

We took it to the vet. We had told oour son, who was then five, that the cat was very old and ill and to prepare for the worst.

The vet confirmed what we had thought and diagnosed cancer. In his opinion, an operation simply wasn't worth it and we agreed to let him do the necessary.

That afternoon, when our kid came home from school, I could hardly bear the thought of having to tell him,

"And Felina," he asked, "Is she better?"

How to explain?

"I'm sorry but we had to put her to sleep."

But he didn't know the euphemism.

"So she's sleeping?"

I explained more directly. He burst into tears and I cried a little too, not for the cat but for seeing my son so upset.

A minute later he said, "I have money in my piggy bank, We can get a new cat with my money."

Two minutes later he was talking about something completely differerent,

[Femme Folle]

I'm trying to enjoy my Saturday afternoon watching "Monsters Inside Me" and they keep playing these extra long ASPCA ads that go on for at least three minutes, although it seems like thirty, and they make me cry every single time. How am I supposed to learn about how to avoid getting brain-eating bacteria when I can't see though the tears? I ask you.

[Nocturnal Submission]

Last night's edition of Newsnight ended with the late Clive James reading from the book Poems That Make Grown Men Cry, a tome I may have to ask for as a Christmas gift.

[elguapo4]

I broke down a little saying a few words about my brother at his cremation, his funeral is on Saturday, so there'll probably be a few tears then as well.

[Nocturnal Submission]

Well, I've never heard anyone say that they felt worse after shedding a few tears, so go ahead, mate. It's all part of the grieving process.

[MsD]

I don't cry anywhere near as much as I used to; must be oestrogen slowing down. I used to well up a lot, sometimes embarrassing in social situations where I'm just having a conversation with someone and we emotionally connect <sniff>. PMT made it ridiculous, so I'd cry at the Yellow Pages piano notes, didn't even need to see J R Hartley or whoever.

Another factor could be that I avoid sad stuff more - actually on the occasions when I've watched a moving film (or even an episode of Poirot) I've been crying, sobbing even.

I do cry when Jeremy Corbyn speaks with passion, I've cried a lot at Labour all my life and that's probably why I'm in the Party.

Cried when my sister died but not really at the funeral, not much, maybe at one bit. I don't really cried at funerals, I tend to go into self-protection detached mode. I am a rock, as they say.

[Snake Plissken]

Almost broke at that crying koala on Channel 4. Sounds daft but reminded me of the ones I was looking at in Australia earlier this year.

[The Pollster]

Pal's dad's funeral yesterday, who I'd never met.

Had more than one tear in my eye when they hoisted up the coffin on the way out...

[Gangster Octopus]

Watching my little brother almost die on telly is upsetting me, even though I know the happy ending.

[Patrick Thistle]

I cried today. I wrote a Facebook message to a guy I've known almost all my life, who is in a hospice. I was going to write him a letter but I think I left it too late. He's my brother's best friend and I always got on really well with him.

The universe is unfair. I can write a long list of cunts who should be dying in a hospice.

He should be living long enough to see his kids grow up.

[HORN]

I've been ill. "Tummy bug" sounds much more mundane than the reality of repeatedly passing out, smashing my face on various items of (hard) furniture. I've proper scared Mrs H, who saved me from drowning down the toilet in a cocktail of my own vomit and diarrhea.

Several times since I've awoken to find she's checking I'm still breathing. It's so distressing putting someone you love through this upset and worry.

[Satchmo Distel]

So sorry to hear of so much pain and distress here. Deepest sympathies.

I cried when one of my kittens got sick, after an insect bite, but also tears of joy when she got back to her healthy bouncy self. Most painful of all, about 12 years ago, my wife was in hospital just out of surgery and they forgot to turn on her morphine drip for several hours. Tore me to shreds.

[Nocturnal Submission]

I've been ill. "Tummy bug" sounds much more mundane than the reality of repeatedly passing out, smashing my face on various items of (hard) furniture. I've proper scared Mrs H, who saved me from drowning down the toilet in a cocktail of my own vomit and diarrhea.

Several times since I've awoken to find she's checking I'm still breathing. It's so distressing putting someone you love through this upset and worry.

Bloody hell, HORN. Have you seen a doctor? That sounds horrendous.

[Antepli Ejderha]

Look after yourself HORN, that sounds awful. I'm surprised you're not in hospital.

[ursus arctos]

Yes, HORN, please take care of yourself.

[Sporting]

Ditto.

[DCI Harry Batt]

I've been ill. "Tummy bug" sounds much more mundane than the reality of repeatedly passing out, smashing my face on various items of (hard) furniture. I've proper scared Mrs H, who saved me from drowning down the toilet in a cocktail of my own vomit and diarrhea.

Several times since I've awoken to find she's checking I'm still breathing. It's so distressing putting someone you love through this upset and worry.

Christ, man, that sounds hideous. Look after yourself.