Crying into a Beer

2 years ago I went to London England. I spent 10 days with my best friend and we partied as hard as we could for 10 days straight. Really late nights. Sleeping on an air matress. Rain. I ate poorly, I drank a ton, (indulged in some foreign substances) and didn't work out. By the 10th day, I think it was safe to say my equilibrium was way off. My skin was greasy and bumpy. My face was swollen and fat. My hair was falling out. My belly ached and protruded. I had heart burn and razor burn. My hands were chapped and my teeth hurt. I was a complete mess. On top of this I have a fear of flying and had to wake up for an 8 am flight home. Needless to say I was a complete ulgy inside and out on the tenth day.

It was 530 in the morning and I found myself mixing Kaluha with a 5 dollar coffee as I slopped through customs with my sunglasses on. As if 10 days of madness wasn't enough, I was now drinking before I got on an plane before the sun had come up fully. As I was walking through customs an older couple, who were clearly Canadian made a comment along the lines of "Hey how are you" to me. For no reason other than because of my Canadian ginger hair I presume. I smiled and felt my eyes water up. The couple reminded me of parents. Not my parents, but they possessed a feeling of wanting to nurture me. This projected nurturing feeling made me feel helpless and cared for.

Now, in London people are mean. they don't say hi, they don't let you go ahead in line, and they have no patiences for slow walkers. I, being a slow walker, got kicked (actually kicked) a few times by people behind me in a rush. This Canadina couple walked slower than I did as we passed an Air Canada sign. At this point I began to cry beyond my control. I tried my best to stop the tears. It was similiar to throwing up. I rushed to the bathroom and let out tears in the stall for 5 minutes. At the time, I interpreted it as tears of joy mixed with a weak mental state related to my 10 day binge. I went to the airport bar, face even more swollen, for a few beers.

While sitting in O Neills bar I had 3 beers, put my sunglasses on, and cried for 1 hour straight. I had no idea why I was crying and I couldn't control it. I was going along for the ride. I had no thoughts racing through my head and no desire to stop the tears. I was emitting emotion. I just sat there drinking while my eyes cried. There of course were endomorphins racing through my body, causing euphoria. It felt as if I was cleansing.

I have to call these nurturing tears. I was admitting defeat, but was OK with it and my feelings of nationalism were nurturing me. The friendly moment with the canadian couple made me feel like a 5 year old kid lost at the shopping mall. Defeated by the world, but at the same time boggled to be a part of it. As a Canadian, I was happy to be from a country that had space; had room for me. A place that I knew and could return to and walk slowly.

Tears #3: tears of helplessness: accepting your past and aknowledging an uncertain future.