I don’t cry much these days. I don’t know why, whether it is down to my antidepressants or my tried and tested strategies for dealing with loss and grief and whatever it is that makes you cry. But I just don’t and that, I say in all seriousness, makes me sad.
Four awful deaths among family and friends in 2025 so far, with just half of the year gone and not a single tear shed. Even the most shocking, sudden death didn’t encourage the tears to come along, despite my making no effort to prevent them. A big part of me wishes I could cry easier. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
You might think that crying was something to be ashamed of given the media coverage of chancellor Rachel Reeves’ episode yesterday. She’s a mere woman, presumably, but as she’s a politician she mustn’t cry or show any outward signs of emotion, ever. We want politicians to be more real, don’t we, at least until they are.
I have no idea why Ms Reeves appeared to be distressed in the House of Commons but of course the press pack makes up its own reality, quoting anonymous ‘sources’, who may or may not exist, in order to put the boot in. They tell you they know why Ms Reeves was so visibly upset, even though they likely don’t, and the bottom feeders of today’s media are more than happy to use clickbait in order to get a story than, God forbid, a public figure to show emotion.
I see people crying from time-to-time. I go to funerals where people cry tears of sadness, our food bank where people shed tears over hopelessness and sometimes events like weddings where people shed tears of joy. It is as if a release valve has been opened and people can let go, as they should.
I do not know whether that pressure valve that seems to store up my emotions has any damaging effect on my mental health or my life in general. I used to cry much more, for sure, about practically everything from a story in a sad TV show or my frustration at school and later work in not being able to understand simple things that others managed to do with ease. You might say I do grief better than I used to. As I said, I rather wish I didn’t.
I’d like to think that the public in general would be more sympathetic to whatever it was that was going on in Ms Reeves life and head than the sickos who control and manipulate what little is left of decent journalism in our country.
I no longer listen to radio phone-ins because, frankly, I can no longer tolerate the amount of hate and bile they engender, not even the best in the business Nicky Campbell, the ‘plug’ for his phone-in today reading, ‘Rachel Reeves: Crying Shame’; doubtless a headline not dreamed up by the man himself, but by some trendy, chino-wearing luvvy in the production department who wants to show just how clever they are. Yes, I can see what the headline could be trying to say, but I can also see the ‘in-joke’.
Just look at social media sites, as well as TV and radio news bulletins, on any given day and remember just how much politicians of all persuasions are hated and reviled, as if they were all from a different species of being. They are not, of course. Sure there are some wrong ‘uns in politics, as there are in the gutter press and the rest of the media, but the proportions will inevitably be similar to the worlds you and I live in.
Doubtless at some point, we will learn the reasons for Ms Reeves’ apparently distress because that, unfortunately, is the way of the world. The current speculation and gossip is at best intrusive and at worst poisonous and the media need for clicks is far more important to them than caring for a fellow human being, even if they happen to be a senior politician.
There’s nothing wrong with crying. It doesn’t make you weak, it makes you human. If you think it’s funny or that there’s something wrong with it, maybe you’re the one with a problem, not the person who is crying. Anyone who had a heart could surely see that?
