My days filled with tears

I’ve done more crying over the last week or two than I have in many years, a reality that doesn’t worry me in the least, but, until very recently, it confused me because I couldn’t figure out why they hell I was crying. I don’t mind my emotional life experience. I do like to understand it. Especially since this recent stint of tearfalls began right after getting great news.

Watch, I’ll show you.

  • The Kahrmann Advocacy Coalition application for pro bono legal services filed with a group that will wed us to a top law firm has been accepted.  Good news. As a result, KAC is on its way to becoming a 501c3 nonprofit company. Very good news.
    • This means KAC will be able to file legal actions against some who are denying the rights of people with brain injury disabilities in New York State. Good news
    • It means we will be even more adept at uncovering and exposing various forms of corruption (which includes exposing those whose allegiance to the rights of individuals with brain injuries is lip service and lip service only). More good news.
    • It means we will be able to advocate for more people and in doing so, hopefully, make their lives a better place to be.  Really good news.
    • It means the waters will become more treacherous for those who oppress the rights of brain injury survivors, often by treating them as if they are nothing but revenue streams.  Very good news.

With all this good news, why the crying?

Let me again assure you I have no problems with the fact I’ve been crying a lot. No embarrassment and no worries that it means something has gone wrong with me. I know some have been convinced or have convinced themselves crying is an act of weakness. I would say to them, if crying is an act of weakness, why is it so hard for you to do it?

I want to understand, not avoid my my emotional experience in life. So, I reached out to my old therapist, an extraordinary man, Bill Buse. If anyone could help me track down the reason for my tears, he could. He did. I can’t tell my father and my mother. I can’t tell my family because I’ve not had an active family life since I was 16. That I can’t tell them drenches me in sadness.

And so, the tears. Now that I understand them, I am very grateful for them. Every one of them is testimony to the depth of my love for my parents, my sister, my family. Every single one of reflects how great it is that KAC will soon be a more powerful advocate than it already is. This would make my parents and my family very happy, and, if you’ll allow the “little boy” to peek out from behind his history, proud of me.