Crying Loops

Sometimes, hormones mess with my brain. There’s no other way to put it. I can qualify it if you want. I can say: it’s not my fault, it only happens to some women, it shouldn’t impede my cognitive capabilities, you shouldn’t judge me on this one thing, it’s not just me. But. It. Happens.
So I’m listening to the radio, and the woman gives a heads up message that the next song, “Creep” by Radiohead, was banned by the BBC for being too depressing. I, of course, relate to the song. I’m already a bit teary, not, oh look a baby sniffling, but sniffly. I start singing along, “I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.”
The words hit. Boom. Then I’m thinking about the last time I heard the song. I remember I was sitting by myself in my dorm room back at school listening to Radiohead for the first time, looking for something that would mean something to me, feeling all alone, unheard, and understood by no one. So I’m thinking of that, driving down a pretty busy street in rush hour. And I start crying and singing. I’m wiping my eyes, singing along with wobbly gasps, and navigating traffic. We stop at a light and I look to my right. Oh look, it’s a police officer. I’m worrying he’s going to pull me over, and I’ll hit a car while I’m trying to pull over, then I’ll have to get another job to pay for my broken car, and I’ll still be crying. So I’m frantically trying to wipe my eyes and at the same time roll up the windows so he can’t hear my shrieking. But, I went right on past. No problems.
And that made me cry, because I thought maybe he needed to fill his policeman quota, but he didn’t want to pull over a crying girl after a day’s worth of work, so now he’s having a bad day because I’m having a sad day. Then Thom finished his sadness hole, and I drove back home, flicking radio stations every minute so that I didn’t get too attached to a song with too much memory.

20 thoughts on “Crying Loops

  1. caughtintheclouds

    I have totally been this person. Then once I get home, I pull out one of my trillion journals, blast some old Staind (or The Cranberries if I’m feeling really edgy) and start sobbing and writing simultaneously. Definitely a woman thing. 🙂 You’re awesome.

  2. Bren

    Now I can’t say it’s happened while driving cause I don’t drive but I’ve had that happen, the crying jag. Something will spark a seed of sad and it grows and it seems unstoppable at the time. Later it might seem silly but personally, I don’t think it’s ever silly to cry. That’s just how I feel about it though.

    1. some bad plankton Post author

      I think it’s very interesting how emotions look in the past, or how we characterized past emotions. I like the idea that sometimes we feel the same thing forever and sometimes we utterly flip-flop.

  3. Manchester Flick Chick (Chrissie)

    The amount of times I’ve blubbed my way through that song and the daft thing is, I start listening to it knowing it will have that effect. Sometimes we just have days where we are a little fragile and it doesn’t take much to set us off – sometimes even a hug to cheer us up because that’s so lovely *blub* that someone *blub* cares enough *blub* to do that for us *BLUB* ;o)

  4. Joe and Eur Moma

    I would say this whole incident is a good indication that your brain is working fine. Imagine, “Creep” came out in the early 1990’s so that puts the song well over 20 years old. When the song reappeared in your contemporary life (assuming this post as something that honestly happened – not a narrative means of conveying ‘sadness based on reflection’) messengers within your neural network raced back into the storage files, found a scene of a dorm room cocooned in the silk of the grunge movement and Radiohead’s “Creep” playing at some moment, and then those messengers each scooped up armfuls of past memories/feelings and raced with them back on the path to the present to drop them in your current lap, as it was bent into a car seat. That’s your brain at work, all systems firing. This isn’t to dismiss any real sadness though; sorry if so. A little sunlight, maybe a pinch or sip of some fitting stimulant, and that Bobby McFerrin song would cure a moment like this. Cheers. – JM

    1. some bad plankton Post author

      I’m glad an impartial third-party has affirmed my mind’s well-being. Sometimes I like to embrace the sad moments to be just as inherently “good” as the happy moments. In this case, I thought I’d share my real-life story, goofy sadness and all, pretty much how it happened to me.

  5. Slave2thePaint

    the hormones of our species are the devils of our kind. Wielding a sense of cognitive balance, I too am subjected to their dreadful call, no sailor was safe from the wailing of the sisters of the sea.

    Be free of the heinous music of the free!

    Hormones are bastards, cynical throngs of misbehaving senselessness! Argg be damned the rogue tear.

    1. some bad plankton Post author

      Ha! Perhaps, though, because we cannot always control our own emotions, heinous 90s music be damned, it reminds us how wishy-washy life’s emotions become if we give them a chance to breathe.

  6. jef

    you are liked. I might recommend against checking out my stuff, though. It’ll only result in a fusillade of likes flying to and fro like volleys in a hopelessly friendly war. Let’s just like each other the old fashioned way and have a virtual ham sandwich together every now and again. Keep up the good stuff. And goodnight!

  7. jef

    You had me at “Then Thom finished his sadness hole.” But I can’t follow or like you or whatever, as I’ve long since come to realize that all the Liking and Following is largely a disingenuous way to accrue a fan base comprised of 14,000 people who Liked you once and were Liked in return, such that the blogosphere is aswarm with bloggers trailing 14,000 followers who want much much more to be Liked than they want to Like, and who will only occasionally visit the Liked blog and even less frequently wax your or my car. So, I’ll like you for real because you seem clever and dry and mildly radiant with an evident cynicism that pleases me. But this is not a Like the robot masters of the innertubes can detect with their foil hats and so on. Also you can’t just say ‘fried chicken’ like that. That’s more than a little reckless.

    1. some bad plankton Post author

      Well this was unexpectedly delightful. It’s nice when someone gets me. I don’t think I’ve ever had a compliment to my writing so spot on to my person, “because you seem clever and dry and mildly radiant with an evident cynicism.” I’m actually going to go look at your stuff now, because I’m interested. I feel liked. This is nice.


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