Emotions

I certainly think the depression plays a role in all of this, especially if weeping is the primary emotion you experience.  My depression-related weeping catches me unexpectedly, usually when I'm tired and alone in front of the computer in a slightly darkened room--such as when I play poker.  But when it's in response to a specific, identifiable stimulus, I tend to believe it's a natural response to something that has honestly affected you.  

Lately, I've also found myself laughing more, as well. And you say that you are responding to things you find beautiful.  That is something that evokes an emotion or a memory that is deeply personal.  You also say this happens "when you allow it to", which speaks to a lessening of inhibitions.  Not that this is bad!  I'm almost glad to see it in me, after spending most of my life trying to maintain an even keel. 

Yesterday was quite an adventure.  We were up at 6:30 (obscene!) for a 7:30 doctor's appointment ( both of us).  We both finally got into two adjacent examining rooms, when he puts on his coat and announces he off to an appointment a couple of blocks away and will be back as soon as he can.  He tells me thatI can have the occasional drink with my Tylenol, gives me the prescriptions I've requested, sends me for blood work and is off to see David, for whom he makes a couple of referrals. First a stop  on the main floor of the building to obtain resting hand splints.  When I asked the woman if Blue Cross would cover any of the cost, she cheerfully said no, but Manitoba health will cover the entire cost for you.  Then, we're off and running.  Downtown to make an appointment for new foot orthotics--for which I've been waiting ever since I started this knee replacement journey.  Then to the  art supply store to buy supplies for next weekends workshop.  Then to WalMart to drop off prescriptions--whoops, the pharmacist is on break and we have to wait a couple of hours to pick them up.  Then off to Tim's for breakfast.  Home  a few minutes and then off to the ReStore for more workshop supplies ( small glazed ceramic tiles--don't ask),and then to deliver me to a meeting of the art group I have become involved with.  Finally he picks me up from the meeting and it's back to WalMart for the pills.  Neither of us is used to this frenzy of activity.  We're too old for this!!