Crying Catharsis: The Ugly Face

“Why does every movie make you weep like a little bitch?”

That’s a great question, thank you for asking.

I love to weep at movies because it’s cathartic. I love the escapism of it. When I watch movies I always put myself in the character’s shoes. I always imagine what it would be like if it was me, and my husband died of cancer and sent me letters from beyond helping me heal and get over it. (P.S. I love you.) I like to imagine how my family would deal if I died from my diabetes. What would my funeral be like? Morbid, I know, but it’s just like Steal Magnolias.

The Notebook. Titanic. The Neverending Story. Now and Forever. One Day. The Lion King; I can’t even get through the first 3 minutes. Any of the family episodes of Survivor. The Olympics.

I weep like a little bitch and I love it. I purge all the shit that I don’t let myself cry about normally, with wracking sobs and an ugly face. You know, that face you make when you cry uncontrollably and your face gets all distorted and slobbery with leaking snot and drool? I also make my husband hold me while I do it. It’s so sad and heart wrenching. I love the catharsis, and I also love the word catharsis.

Luckily, he’s a good sport about it. One time, I wanted to watch The Notebook but no one would watch it with me so I watched it by myself. My husband fell asleep on the couch beside me, and as soon as my waterworks started, he woke up just to hold me.

Another time, I was visiting my buddy (the one that got married) while he lived across the country. He, being a big softy, and I decided we wanted to watch The Notebook. I don’t know what we were thinking. By the end of it we were both a mess. There’s a 3 hour time difference, and we were finished the movie around midnight which was 3am back home. I called my (then boyfriend) husband and when he answered the phone, I couldn’t even speak, I was just sobbing.

“What happened?!” He sounded mad.

“Nothing! Nothing…we just finished watching the Notebook.”

“I”m hanging up now.”

Yeah, I don’t blame him.

I guess the reality of it is that I don’t show my emotions all the often. I have them, I feel them, I revel in them so I know they’re still there, and I blog about them, which helps, but sometimes you just need a good, long ugly-faced cry.


2 responses to “Crying Catharsis: The Ugly Face

  1. What other pursuits are cathartic for you? Is masturbating cathartic, or is just getting the job done?

    Maybe I need to cry more. Sometimes it feels like this medication locks me up so tight, that it’s so hard to sneak past it and be myself. Be creative, be loving, with lots of feelings and desires.

    Do you know I even held my tears back during RENT?!?! The saddest movie of all time and I held back! But don’t you think that maybe I let too much out sometimes? I don’t know. We need to talk about this in person – this release, this catharsis.

  2. I definitely think masturbating is cathartic. I can (experience/create/have) some incredible orgasms by myself, the intensity of which I can’t duplicate while having sex. (Not to say that I don’t have intense orgasms during sex, it’s just different when I’m masturbating.)

    I seem to be missing that part of me that can hold back tears. I feel like it broke once, long ago, and now there’s just no holding back.

    There is nothing like the catharsis of a good cry. I feel like it scours your soul clean, leaves you fresh and ready face whatever else life has to throw at you.

    We should talk about this in person!

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