Why don't real things make me cry?
June 16, 2010 8:24 PM Subscribe
Why do fictional things trigger my crying-reflex when I haven't cried in years? (So much snowflakery inside.)
Scroll for TL;DR
As a kid, I would cry all the time. At any source of stress or anxiety. One day, I remember very specifically, I cried during a test and got so embarassed I stopped. Since then, it was only my mother and grandmother (my dad died before I was born,) both skilled in the art of antagonism, who could make me cry. Weirdly, whenever my mother showed signs of kindness, I also welled up a bit although never actually wept.
In my early 20s (I am 25 now,) I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and am currently taking medication for it: a low dose of Welbutrin, a moderate dose of Tegretol, and -- somewhat unrelated -- Ritalin. Since going on medication haven't cried at all in about five years. I was almost driven to it by a breakup, but it never went through. It is like there's a trigger than needs to be pulled and even though the finger is on it, it never is. It doesn't help that I also hate the feeling of crying (I never relieved myself of emotion by doing it, it only ever made things worse) and occasionally get nauseous if I am in the state when I should cry. Honestly, I also do not get angry, although I've almost never gotten angry outside of childhood. Whenever I recognize the emotion, there's a reflex realizing that it will solve nothing to be angry, and the anger fades away into the baseline.
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind any of this. Before the medication, I was an emotional wreck, always swinging, never knowing how I would feel. Whenever I had an adrenaline rush -- I played a bit of tennis as a teenager -- I would break down, my mind and body just exploding with energy that couldn't be released. It was really, really terrible. I still avoid (most) adrenaline-releasing activity. With as many medication cocktails as I had to try before we found one that works for me, I do not want to find different medication. I have fun, I laugh naturally, I am fully capable of loving both platonically and romantically. I'm good. I don't need to feel the things I don't already. I am terribly curious, though.
TL;DR
The weird thing is that very odd things get me into the welling-up-of-tears phase. My mother recently died, painfully, and outside of stress and a sense of duty to comfort her, there was never a crying-feeling. My grandfather is currently dying and, again, nothing. My grandmother calls me, terribly depressed, and outside of stress and annoyance, nothing.
On the other hand, I welled up at the opening scene of the new Star Trek film when Kirk's dad was in mortal danger. I welled up reading the Avengers when Captain America leads the team into battle. I welled up seeing Superman talk a teenage goth girl from jumping off a roof in All-Star Superman. Seriously, that scene was the closest I have ever come to crying in five years. I just located it for the post and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The closest thing outside of that was my girlfriend reading a Craigslist entry for guinea pig supplies that ended with "I have all these things, just no more guinea pig." I could barely hold it back then.
What's going on here? Why do fictional things get me to that stage but real events, that deal with me directly, don't?
Scroll for TL;DR
As a kid, I would cry all the time. At any source of stress or anxiety. One day, I remember very specifically, I cried during a test and got so embarassed I stopped. Since then, it was only my mother and grandmother (my dad died before I was born,) both skilled in the art of antagonism, who could make me cry. Weirdly, whenever my mother showed signs of kindness, I also welled up a bit although never actually wept.
In my early 20s (I am 25 now,) I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and am currently taking medication for it: a low dose of Welbutrin, a moderate dose of Tegretol, and -- somewhat unrelated -- Ritalin. Since going on medication haven't cried at all in about five years. I was almost driven to it by a breakup, but it never went through. It is like there's a trigger than needs to be pulled and even though the finger is on it, it never is. It doesn't help that I also hate the feeling of crying (I never relieved myself of emotion by doing it, it only ever made things worse) and occasionally get nauseous if I am in the state when I should cry. Honestly, I also do not get angry, although I've almost never gotten angry outside of childhood. Whenever I recognize the emotion, there's a reflex realizing that it will solve nothing to be angry, and the anger fades away into the baseline.
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind any of this. Before the medication, I was an emotional wreck, always swinging, never knowing how I would feel. Whenever I had an adrenaline rush -- I played a bit of tennis as a teenager -- I would break down, my mind and body just exploding with energy that couldn't be released. It was really, really terrible. I still avoid (most) adrenaline-releasing activity. With as many medication cocktails as I had to try before we found one that works for me, I do not want to find different medication. I have fun, I laugh naturally, I am fully capable of loving both platonically and romantically. I'm good. I don't need to feel the things I don't already. I am terribly curious, though.
TL;DR
The weird thing is that very odd things get me into the welling-up-of-tears phase. My mother recently died, painfully, and outside of stress and a sense of duty to comfort her, there was never a crying-feeling. My grandfather is currently dying and, again, nothing. My grandmother calls me, terribly depressed, and outside of stress and annoyance, nothing.
On the other hand, I welled up at the opening scene of the new Star Trek film when Kirk's dad was in mortal danger. I welled up reading the Avengers when Captain America leads the team into battle. I welled up seeing Superman talk a teenage goth girl from jumping off a roof in All-Star Superman. Seriously, that scene was the closest I have ever come to crying in five years. I just located it for the post and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The closest thing outside of that was my girlfriend reading a Craigslist entry for guinea pig supplies that ended with "I have all these things, just no more guinea pig." I could barely hold it back then.
What's going on here? Why do fictional things get me to that stage but real events, that deal with me directly, don't?
I wrote a long answer and deleted it. Look at it this way: your question is basically identical to why do I love roller coasters but hate being in an out of control vehicle?
posted by moxiedoll at 8:36 PM on June 16, 2010 [24 favorites]
posted by moxiedoll at 8:36 PM on June 16, 2010 [24 favorites]
Transference? Catharsis? I'm not sure of the right word, but especially with the history outlined, we can get Really Good at defending against expressing negative emotion in our lives if we condition ourselves over and over to understand that negative emotions feel awful. But fiction (and, at least for me, music) often taps in to those emotions in ways that we just aren't as girded against.
One thing I found is that when I'm in pretty good mental health crying, especially about fiction, doesn't feel awful or like it'll never end. It can actually be cathartic in the best sense.
posted by ldthomps at 8:37 PM on June 16, 2010 [1 favorite]
One thing I found is that when I'm in pretty good mental health crying, especially about fiction, doesn't feel awful or like it'll never end. It can actually be cathartic in the best sense.
posted by ldthomps at 8:37 PM on June 16, 2010 [1 favorite]
I used to have the same issue. I even had some sappy dvds that I'd use to cry my little heart out every so often. It was great, I'd feel sooooooo much better the next day, after letting all those emotions out.
posted by Neekee at 8:44 PM on June 16, 2010
posted by Neekee at 8:44 PM on June 16, 2010
Drama was invented to be super-normal stimulus. A modern film director has 90 minutes to get you to care about someone, a tiny sliver of time for emotional engagement, so they pour it on thick.
You sound as if you have girded yourself strongly against the mere drama of real life (which I hope you don't consider a desirable end in itself) but theater drama is super-normal and psychiatric medications are certainly known to make some emotionally labile.
The (rhetorical) question I'm left with is why you consider crying to be so desperately avoided.
posted by fydfyd at 8:46 PM on June 16, 2010 [2 favorites]
You sound as if you have girded yourself strongly against the mere drama of real life (which I hope you don't consider a desirable end in itself) but theater drama is super-normal and psychiatric medications are certainly known to make some emotionally labile.
The (rhetorical) question I'm left with is why you consider crying to be so desperately avoided.
posted by fydfyd at 8:46 PM on June 16, 2010 [2 favorites]
I'm pretty secure in my current mental health and even I teared up when Steve got the band back together during Siege. I think you're probably okay, and hey, comics are giving you an outlet for all your own issues, right?
posted by fairytale of los angeles at 9:55 PM on June 16, 2010
posted by fairytale of los angeles at 9:55 PM on June 16, 2010
My pop culture knowledge is weak, but do all those examples have brave men who want to use their power to lead, protect, or shelter something smaller? Could there be an emotional key that unlocks your pent up tears?
posted by salvia at 10:40 PM on June 16, 2010 [2 favorites]
posted by salvia at 10:40 PM on June 16, 2010 [2 favorites]
Because its safe to cry about fictional events, whereas real-life events come with a bunch of unhappy baggage. You say that your mother and grandmother were able to make you cry, so perhaps you associate crying over family members with being deliberately manipulated to cry, rather than genuinely expressing your emotions from within yourself.
You seem to have found a coping mechanism for real life by emotionally blocking it off, and never letting it get to you. Fiction does not need the same coping mechanism, as it isn't really a threat, and does not carry the baggage of outside manipulation, so you let those emotions through the defenses.
This seems like something you could discuss with a therapist, if you feel like it is a problem. If the question was more of an idle curiosity thing, then no need for therapy :)
posted by Joh at 10:48 PM on June 16, 2010 [4 favorites]
You seem to have found a coping mechanism for real life by emotionally blocking it off, and never letting it get to you. Fiction does not need the same coping mechanism, as it isn't really a threat, and does not carry the baggage of outside manipulation, so you let those emotions through the defenses.
This seems like something you could discuss with a therapist, if you feel like it is a problem. If the question was more of an idle curiosity thing, then no need for therapy :)
posted by Joh at 10:48 PM on June 16, 2010 [4 favorites]
HAMLET:
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wan'd;
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her?
Good question.
posted by washburn at 11:03 PM on June 16, 2010 [1 favorite]
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
That from her working all his visage wan'd;
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing!
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her?
Good question.
posted by washburn at 11:03 PM on June 16, 2010 [1 favorite]
Because choking up over schmaltz is both safe and cathartic.
posted by orthogonality at 3:52 AM on June 17, 2010 [1 favorite]
posted by orthogonality at 3:52 AM on June 17, 2010 [1 favorite]
Safety. If you cry at fictional things, well ... it really doesn't have an effect on your own personal life because it's just a story. But to release the sadness, fear, whatever for something/someone REAL? Whole different story.
Either way, it's fine for you to react just as you do. I cry like a big dog at everything. It's just how my body releases that energy. You've learned that it's not safe to cry in public or really, for anything that is close to you.
Really, it's okay to cry or not as the situation pulls you. Don't judge yourself for it. It's just you. (((HUGS)))
posted by Mysticalchick at 5:42 AM on June 17, 2010
Either way, it's fine for you to react just as you do. I cry like a big dog at everything. It's just how my body releases that energy. You've learned that it's not safe to cry in public or really, for anything that is close to you.
Really, it's okay to cry or not as the situation pulls you. Don't judge yourself for it. It's just you. (((HUGS)))
posted by Mysticalchick at 5:42 AM on June 17, 2010
nthing safety, but from the point of vulnerability. I learned very young not to cry in front of anyone because it was blood to a pack of sharks. I then stopped crying for a few years altogether until a huge crying fit got triggered by a book I was reading. Now I'm like you, I cry at everything fictional, but I still don't let any person MAKE me cry.
posted by L'Estrange Fruit at 6:26 AM on June 17, 2010
posted by L'Estrange Fruit at 6:26 AM on June 17, 2010
I think this is really normal. It's difficult for real life events to make me cry anymore, even though I was a big crier as a child. (In my case it was mostly anxiety-related to my parents' health and relationship, not anyone manipulating me.) Sort of like the anger thing you described, I eventually just got a reflex that being upset wasn't going to solve anything because whatever was gonna happen was gonna happen, and the bad feelings are blunted before I even get close to crying now.
Fiction is a whole other arena, though. I will cry easily at fictional stuff. As others have mentioned it's at least partly because it's a safe thing to cry over -- part of the whole point of sublimation is to take difficult feelings and put them in a safe place to confront them -- and because it's designed to engage your emotions (or else it's not any good). I agree with others that it doesn't feel as horrible as crying over something real does, and I'm actually disappointed when fictional things don't move me in some way. One of the reasons I read and write fiction is to be emotionally moved in a way I find difficult to come by in real life. I tend to cry over books, movies, plays, and songs; I'm not visual enough for a picture or painting to move me, so that's really rare.
The weirdest thing I ever cried over and the thing I cried over the most are the same thing: a children's treater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. My friend loves the whole "fake it 'til you make it" aspect of that story because she's had to deal with depression her whole life, so we went. Almost everyone in the audience was children or their parents. Let me just say I'm glad we sat at the back because I cried from nearly the beginning to the end of the play, like nonstop. My friend cried too, but considerably less, and I think some of the crying she did was just out of empathy for me. Oh my god. When we left the theater I was like, "What the fuck?"
Not fictional but related since it had nothing to do with me: once I was moved to tears by watching some little girls have a tea party at a Pottery Barn for Kids, and I don't really like children (though I don't have anything against them). I cannot, for the life of me, explain why. I think one of my crying triggers is innocence. They just seemed so good.
As another example, my husband seemed incapable of crying over anything for years. His parents got divorced when he was young because of his mom's alcohol problem, and he was left dealing with her emotional abuse and manipulation because she got custody. He says he remembered that he felt bad for her at first when she'd have her crying fits, but after a while he got sick of it because they were irrational and she refused to let anyone help her, she just wanted to play the victim, and she had a bad habit of making her children feel like disappointments for no good reason -- my husband got straight A's, never did anything wrong, had wonderful extracurriculars and is now a literal rocket scientist; his little brother is similar and currently in medical school, yet she somehow found something to insult. She was extremely manipulative -- and still is to an extent, though she's learned by now that crying and guilt-tripping make my husband react with scorn. For a long time when we were first dating, I wondered if he was even much capable of empathy because he just didn't seem very good at picking up on what would upset other people or understanding that it was natural for them to be upset, plus he was really independent and honest-to-god didn't seem to need to be loved like other people do; if he hadn't been so nice to me I would have just broke up with him. He is definitely the most guarded person I've ever met in my life -- not so much anymore, and not at all around me anymore, but back then, maaan. I found it unnerving at times, even, just because I'd never met someone who couldn't be rattled whatsoever. If his mom hadn't been able to make him feel horrible I would have thought he was a sociopath or something, oddly enough. I think he just decided when he was a kid that he wasn't going to get upset over anything and he wasn't going to rely on anyone to love him, so caring about other people's feelings wasn't an option most of the time. As he got older that became second nature, I think other people seemed oversensitive and weak to him.
Well, for a long time we only watched lighthearted stuff together, or at the very least stuff that, even if it was serious, wasn't technically well-done enough really force tears or anything. After a while we were just together 24/7 so watching stuff wasn't even a "date" anymore, and we started watching whatever. Turns out if something is done well enough, he will cry. Though he takes somewhat more prodding than I do, PIXAR does it almost every time; he cried like three or four times during Wall-E and a couple of times during Up!. He is always somewhat appalled by this, but more in an amused way than an ashamed way. There are moments in Up! for example where they unexpectedly spring something moving on you, and my husband would go, "Oh, fuck, stop!" and start wiping at his face, embarrassed.
Also, he doesn't read very much because it's rare that he's in the mood for it, unless it's an engineering book for work -- less than a novel a year, maybe a novel every couple years. He's just not a word person, and when he writes and speaks it's very concise -- I actually think he's a great writer because of it -- but most writers do not write concisely. He recently got sent to the middle of Saskatchewan for three weeks for work, so I packed Vonnegut's Mother Night for him, thinking that Vonnegut is probably a good fit for his tastes. Since he's stuck in a boring town in the middle of nowhere he actually got around to reading it, and I was surprised when he said one part of it near the end had some profound effect on him; he said it made him feel awful, just incredibly upset. It turned out to be the one passage in the book that I thought was definitely something special, but it didn't move me nearly as much as it did him; he actually had to lie down, think about it, and recover from it. I really wouldn't have thought that was possible for him in particular; art is often strange that way. Mostly my husband cries at things that are sad or bittersweet; I cry more easily at things that are uplifting.
That's definitely what art is for, though; not everything effects everyone the same way, but I like to think everyone is susceptible to being profoundly engaged by some art. So far, I've yet to meet a single stoic person that hasn't been moved to tears by something fictional.
posted by Nattie at 7:31 AM on June 17, 2010
Fiction is a whole other arena, though. I will cry easily at fictional stuff. As others have mentioned it's at least partly because it's a safe thing to cry over -- part of the whole point of sublimation is to take difficult feelings and put them in a safe place to confront them -- and because it's designed to engage your emotions (or else it's not any good). I agree with others that it doesn't feel as horrible as crying over something real does, and I'm actually disappointed when fictional things don't move me in some way. One of the reasons I read and write fiction is to be emotionally moved in a way I find difficult to come by in real life. I tend to cry over books, movies, plays, and songs; I'm not visual enough for a picture or painting to move me, so that's really rare.
The weirdest thing I ever cried over and the thing I cried over the most are the same thing: a children's treater production of The Velveteen Rabbit. My friend loves the whole "fake it 'til you make it" aspect of that story because she's had to deal with depression her whole life, so we went. Almost everyone in the audience was children or their parents. Let me just say I'm glad we sat at the back because I cried from nearly the beginning to the end of the play, like nonstop. My friend cried too, but considerably less, and I think some of the crying she did was just out of empathy for me. Oh my god. When we left the theater I was like, "What the fuck?"
Not fictional but related since it had nothing to do with me: once I was moved to tears by watching some little girls have a tea party at a Pottery Barn for Kids, and I don't really like children (though I don't have anything against them). I cannot, for the life of me, explain why. I think one of my crying triggers is innocence. They just seemed so good.
As another example, my husband seemed incapable of crying over anything for years. His parents got divorced when he was young because of his mom's alcohol problem, and he was left dealing with her emotional abuse and manipulation because she got custody. He says he remembered that he felt bad for her at first when she'd have her crying fits, but after a while he got sick of it because they were irrational and she refused to let anyone help her, she just wanted to play the victim, and she had a bad habit of making her children feel like disappointments for no good reason -- my husband got straight A's, never did anything wrong, had wonderful extracurriculars and is now a literal rocket scientist; his little brother is similar and currently in medical school, yet she somehow found something to insult. She was extremely manipulative -- and still is to an extent, though she's learned by now that crying and guilt-tripping make my husband react with scorn. For a long time when we were first dating, I wondered if he was even much capable of empathy because he just didn't seem very good at picking up on what would upset other people or understanding that it was natural for them to be upset, plus he was really independent and honest-to-god didn't seem to need to be loved like other people do; if he hadn't been so nice to me I would have just broke up with him. He is definitely the most guarded person I've ever met in my life -- not so much anymore, and not at all around me anymore, but back then, maaan. I found it unnerving at times, even, just because I'd never met someone who couldn't be rattled whatsoever. If his mom hadn't been able to make him feel horrible I would have thought he was a sociopath or something, oddly enough. I think he just decided when he was a kid that he wasn't going to get upset over anything and he wasn't going to rely on anyone to love him, so caring about other people's feelings wasn't an option most of the time. As he got older that became second nature, I think other people seemed oversensitive and weak to him.
Well, for a long time we only watched lighthearted stuff together, or at the very least stuff that, even if it was serious, wasn't technically well-done enough really force tears or anything. After a while we were just together 24/7 so watching stuff wasn't even a "date" anymore, and we started watching whatever. Turns out if something is done well enough, he will cry. Though he takes somewhat more prodding than I do, PIXAR does it almost every time; he cried like three or four times during Wall-E and a couple of times during Up!. He is always somewhat appalled by this, but more in an amused way than an ashamed way. There are moments in Up! for example where they unexpectedly spring something moving on you, and my husband would go, "Oh, fuck, stop!" and start wiping at his face, embarrassed.
Also, he doesn't read very much because it's rare that he's in the mood for it, unless it's an engineering book for work -- less than a novel a year, maybe a novel every couple years. He's just not a word person, and when he writes and speaks it's very concise -- I actually think he's a great writer because of it -- but most writers do not write concisely. He recently got sent to the middle of Saskatchewan for three weeks for work, so I packed Vonnegut's Mother Night for him, thinking that Vonnegut is probably a good fit for his tastes. Since he's stuck in a boring town in the middle of nowhere he actually got around to reading it, and I was surprised when he said one part of it near the end had some profound effect on him; he said it made him feel awful, just incredibly upset. It turned out to be the one passage in the book that I thought was definitely something special, but it didn't move me nearly as much as it did him; he actually had to lie down, think about it, and recover from it. I really wouldn't have thought that was possible for him in particular; art is often strange that way. Mostly my husband cries at things that are sad or bittersweet; I cry more easily at things that are uplifting.
That's definitely what art is for, though; not everything effects everyone the same way, but I like to think everyone is susceptible to being profoundly engaged by some art. So far, I've yet to meet a single stoic person that hasn't been moved to tears by something fictional.
posted by Nattie at 7:31 AM on June 17, 2010
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posted by i_am_joe's_spleen at 8:32 PM on June 16, 2010 [1 favorite]