'Can't Cry. Want to Cry??'
A Caregiver's Paradox of Human-ing.
Hello, Dear Reader! Welcome to our new Carer Mentor community members!
I’m Victoria. You can read why I’m publishing Carer Mentor here: Who Started Carer Mentor and Why?
In short, after a career climbing the corporate ladder and 18 relocations across 10 countries, I made a head-heart-gut-aligned decision to help my Mum care for my Dad. He had a litany of health issues that were destabilised by a major hospitalisation in 2015: congestive heart failure and rheumatoid arthritis were compounded with a diagnosis of vascular dementia and then bladder cancer.
I stepped away from work for a year, returned for six months, and then resigned from the ‘big’ corporate job in 2017 (Belgium has medical leave as part of their employment law1). Dad passed in January 2020. Shortly after his funeral, we moved to another rollercoaster— treatment for Mum’s cancer.
Today, we count our blessings and greatly appreciate each tiny moment and SLEEP.
Day 8 of the Carer Mentor Collaboration: ‘Caring about Crying. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone.’
This collaboration is a blessing despite the emotion-FULL-discomfort that it provokes in me. Curiosity can be a powerful motivator if you’re intrigued by human nature! Thankfully, some wonderful people are the backbone of this month-long collaboration. Thank you, team!!
We hope you’ll engage in comments, but we’d also like to invite you to contribute your own piece of work. E.g. write an article, share a quote, or a published article related to Crying. Here’s The invitation and team
Yesterday’s article by Kristina was personal essay about the complexity of grief. Triggered. Caring About Crying Anthology By Kristina Adams Waldorf, MD as guest author on Anne’s publication The Future Widow.
The essay resonated deeply—the conflicted emotions. I can’t cry, but do I want to cry? Yes, I do, but then no, I don’t. Can’t cry, want to cry? I don’t know, maybe?
This is an invitation to glimpse inside my messy head.
A Caregiver's Paradox of Human-ing.
In the distant corporate past, empathy and inspiration met stoic pragmatism. Team leader met C-suite board presentations. So, I had an in-the-arena view of ‘Daring Greatly’2
Climbing the ladder and learning to walk my talk as a leader of large, diverse, cross-cultural teams in different countries was my ‘wheelhouse’, my jam. I rocked and rolled and loved connecting with so many different people. ‘A people-oriented, values-based leader, building brands, portfolios, and high-performing teams.’— is LinkedIn lingo for having can-do agility to make shit happen and trust the gifts of the team to achieve what we need to do together, plus have some fun where possible!
Orchestrate, plan, predict, pre-empt, manage, interface, control and lead myself and others. ‘One of these does not belong now, which is it?’
We could not control the cardiovascular symptoms Dad suffered that were compounded by his bladder cancer, nor the episodes of vascular dementia that stole his reasoning. He couldn’t control his balance or his mood swings.
The most vital decision in my control, for me, was to resign from work. The head-heart-gut decision was tattooed inside me with his tears as he sat exhausted and depleted, just needing me to be there with him—a physical presence of love, comfort, and empathy.
I could be the best extra arms and legs and tool of caregiving. I could hold his hand, I could help Mum rest, and I could sit in his tears with him, even if my heart tore apart.
I can’t tell you the precise moments that the floods of tears into pillows became rivers, rivulets became drops, or tears became a glaze of salt.
I know that some days, I had imprints of my nails in the palms of my hands to frustrate the tears. Frustrated sadness of a long goodbye before he’s passed?
A bittersweet, hot anger evaporating water before tears can hit my cheeks? Anger? Frustration? Sad, dark, bittersweet and then, in the midst of it all, a piercing moment of hysterical, weird, silly joy-laughter.
My ‘caregiver’s paradox of human-ing’ is that emotions are not singular, binary or even nuanced. For me, it’s a kaleidoscope of lightness and dark all in one, mixed, beautiful, fragile, and inexplicable.
Because, after all, how can I possibly articulate a lifetime of experiences that have formed my emotion-translation box into a few words?
Brené Brown and Susan David’s3 books and research gave me more words and concepts I could anchor to. But perhaps there are not enough words on concepts in the world to compute the permutations of my emotions.
Embracing the Contradiction of Bothness by Susan David (Dec 12. 2023)
‘This “bothness”—the persistent, sometimes painful duality of life—is a cornerstone of emotional agility.’ Susan David. Click on the image to go to the full article.
Can’t Cry, Want to Cry?
Emotional agility4 has reframed my thinking. I research with curiosity, meditate with the free guided self-compassion resources of Kristin Neff5 . Intellectually, I have the tools. I can manage…but isn’t that just another way of saying trying to control emotions?
2018 to 2020 were the toughest years for us. Dad had a second transection of the bladder. His pee became the colour of a merlot, his heart missed beats quite regularly, and we learnt the first names of most of the paramedics in our area.
But the falls—off the bed, off the recliner chair, and backwards off the last step from the stairs—shocked the tears into recession. Tears were frozen by adrenalin from panicked shouts in the middle of the night.
Grief was the cement layer, but the traumatic moments and shouts were the heavy blocks dropped from a height.
And still, our words were: Orchestrate, plan, predict, pre-empt, manage, interface, and lead ourselves and others—without control.
We are the conductor, the instruments. We have to put the sheet music together, make seats and try to chorale everyone from our position between our loved one and the audience....all without the baton.
When could I cry?
There are leaky tears and then eruptive crying events that happen in the safety of those friends who can hold my tears and me.
Perhaps it’s unsurprising for someone whose ethos is values-based on empathy and inspiration. I need to connect. My Chosen Family listens and receives the full brunt of it all.
Blessed with a big capital B. But do I WANT to cry?
When my time and memories are my MOST precious assets right now,
sometimes I thinkI don’t want to ‘waste’ a minute of respite, me-timeWhen I’m running around like a headless chicken, lining up the dominoes of appointments, keeping the big picture of scans, results, and appointments teed up, my brain can’t be foggy. Who’ll do it if not me?
Fact: sobbing-crying eruptive events produce a long grief hangover of black cloud foggy YUCK.
I realised this when I commented on
article: ‘Sacred Tears How to be with others as they cry’.Space, time and chosen family allow me to move (literally and figuratively) through tears fully.
I’ve used films and music, lit candles in a church and sat in nature’s wonderment, letting tears fall. But these light showers are an ‘incomplete’ resolution. Something is amiss if I cry alone.
Alone, I rationalise, control, and manage. But emotions and feelings are not just ‘brain’ constructs. Tears and crying are head-heart and whole-body related; a complete human-body experience.
Sometimes, we need to get out of our heads, move our bodies and connect with others to help ourselves process and complete stress cycles.6
So? Do I WANT to cry?
Yes, I want to cry because there are a lot of grief and traumatic moments that lie behind that strongly built, cemented dam. Did you know that Caregiver PTSD is a well documented phenomenon? Here’s one article with some tips and resources: PTSD: Caregivers and Combat Veterans Share a Common Emotional Enemy.
Yes, for all the memories embedded in the walls of this home, echoing, with physical cringe and auto-playback of images in my mind.
I know something about PTSD. As life grew fast around that dark grief, it became shrouded. Yet, unexpectedly, an incisive cut through the veil and its dark core burns the present light.
So yes, I want to cry to move through that dark grief. I know it will take more than talking. My research highlighted how Eye movement desensitisation and reprocessing (EMDR) could help. If you’ve been through shocking, traumatic events, you may want to consider this.
shared this article with the team: The antidote to depression may not be what you think. Reflections from both sides of the therapy roomToday’s conclusion: I think every caregiver feels the full amplitude of emotions frequently and intensely. How and when we permit ourselves to release what we absorb from others or feel ourselves is at the heart of our paradox.
Within this Caregiver’s Paradox of Human-ing, I can’t cry, but I do want to cry.
P.S Please don’t ‘caresplain’ to a caregiver what they should do. If a caregiver chooses to share their tears with you, consider this a unique gift and offering.
We’re all seeking a soft, empathetic reception for our vulnerability to land safely.
A few last thoughts worth exploring for yourself
1. Cultural impacts on crying
As someone who has worked across cultures for a long time, I’m hyper-aware that I’m a paradox of cultures. Collectivism and Individualism. Are you a child of two cultures? Or relocated several times like me? Perhaps explore the differences and similarities: The Culture Factor: The Country Comparison Tool
Tomorrow, the Asian Writers Collective led by
and will be hosting a Discussion about the cultural impacts on crying, and everyone’s invited.2. Beyond the intellectual—bypass the words
While I’m a nerdy researcher who loves books, words, thoughts and thinking, I’m inspired by the inexplicable. How art and music make me feel bypasses the need for words. I disengage my brain.
The image on the left is shrouded in dark colour with a depth of red and light yellow streaks emerging. It has distinct but grainy lines. The Image on the right is awash with blue. The lines have been watered, dissolving and merging. Overall, it is brighter than the image on the left, with an uncontained mix of colours. The light may be less piercing but still held in the mind’s eye. ‘The Warrior Within, A Cry. Relief? Release?’ By Victoria.
3. And, of course, music.
Music is, and always will be, a catalyst for my emotions.
One of the most touching renditions of ‘Schindler’s List.’
A booming ballad.
I dry the tears I’ve never shown
Out here on my own
Except, how can I feel alone with all of you lovely readers and this wonderful Collaboration Team!
Thank you for receiving the tears, these messy thoughts and being part of this exploration of crying.
Are you starting to feel like this unique human ability is actually a natural selection gift?
P.S Don’t forget to join in the AWC Discussion Thread tomorrow.
The Caring About Crying Anthology. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone.
The Caring About Crying Anthology. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone.
Sept 1 Launch article: Caring About Crying. We All Cry. You’re Not Alone By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration
Sept 2 Crying: 'Did you know?' Resource: Tears the science and some art. By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration
Sept 3 'Cry, Baby. Why Our Tears Matter' A Podcast Interview. Dan Harris and Dr Bianca Harris of Ten Percent Happier with Reverend Benjamin Perry. By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration
Sept 4 ‘In Conversation with Rev. Benjamin Perry’. Victoria interviews the Author of 'Cry Baby: Why Our Tears Matter' By Victoria at Carer Mentor: Empathy and Inspiration
Sept 5 ‘My stoic mom's parting gift. Making peace with tears’ By Sarah Coomber
Sept 6 We Invite You to 'Care About Crying'. By Victoria on behalf of the team.
Sept 6 ‘ICU Special Edition: There's Crying in Baseball?’ By Nurse Kristin
Sept 7 Triggered. Caring About Crying Anthology By Kristina Adams Waldorf, MD
at After He Said Cancer and Anne at The Future Widow
Leave to support or care for a family member.
Under labor law in Belgium, every employee has the right to either fully suspend the performance of their employment contract or reduce their working hours to care for a family member facing a severe illness.
Employees can cease their work commitments for a maximum period of 12 months per patient.
Each of these breaks must be taken for at least one month and a maximum of three months at a time.
Daring Greatly By Brené Brown (April 7, 2015) ‘How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead’
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; . . . who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."--Theodore Roosevelt
Resource: 'Dr. Susan David's TedTalk 'The Gift and Power of Emotional Agility.'(November 2017). Six years ago, this was a gift to see and to feel seen. 'Sawubona'. Video and Book
An Introduction to 'Emotional Agility'. Dr Susan David and Christina Congleton. (November 2013)
Dr Kristin Neff ‘With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and support we’d give to a good friend’
Recommendation: 'Burnout and how to complete the stress cycle. Emily and Amelia Nagoski' Dr. Brené Brown's 'Unlocking Us' podcast.
Thank you for sharing this vulnerable and insightful post on crying and grief. I really enjoyed this topic and it prompted a lot of thoughts, especially my own culture’s relationship to crying.
I love how you both shared your story and wove in the research around crying. I've been thinking more about the "inconvenience" of it as well as the physical/emotional toll it can take on us when we do go through it. I had a chaplain student whose third language was English and he referred to someone crying as "dropping some tears." I love that phrase and it stayed with me. We can often have all sorts of reasons not to want to cry, including it being one more thing, or not wanting to be out of control (often true for me). And dropping the tears can feel as though we are letting go of something that we may not let go of.