Somebody Hand Me a Tissue

I've not been shy here about mentioning some of my "mental health issues." If you're new here, go read here and, to some degree, here.

Well, for those of you playing along at home, I'm off my Lexapro again. I weaned myself this time and have had a much better result. MUCH better. You know what's best about it, though? The tears. The crying. Oh, how I've missed crying. And the sad thing was that I didn't even realize that I was missing it, which is odd since I'm a life-long crier. I'm talking about the sentimental tears. You know the ones -- that ones that come when the Mom in the Publix commercial realizes that the cake the little boy made is for her, not some imagined sweetheart. Or the ones that spring to your eyes when your child gives you a spontaneous declaration of love accompanied by a huge hug.

Of course, my most notorious sentimental cry was over the Mercedes commercial. This one, to be exact. Come ON! How can you NOT cry at that? Its life is flashing before its eyes!

I didn't even realize these tears were missing until I was driving along the other day, singing along to the radio with my kids. All of sudden, my voice and Bubba's rose above the radio in perfect harmony. I was filled with such a swell of love at that moment and all of a sudden my eyes welled.

Wait. what's this? This...wetness...in my eyes?!

Since then it's been like unleashing a dam. Everything sets me off. Oh tears! How I missed you. I'm sooo glad you're back. And just in time, too, for Christmas, when the sight of the kids with Santa, every Christmas carol, the Christmas Eve service at church are sure to bring on the waterworks.

I'll be looking at the Christmas tree this year with tears in my eyes. And boy am I glad.