Creative Ways To Hide Your Post-Election Crying Fits

Whether you’re ready to move on or not, regular life is carrying on in our post-election world. Hey, you can go for as long as 45 minutes without remembering the current societal chaos! Perhaps you’ve even smiled once or twice? And then, out of the poorly-predicted-by-Nate-Silver blue, you’re crying. Again.

Don’t fight your feelings, just hide them. Here are some creative ways to keep your politically inspired tears under wraps.

Aggressively look for that thing in there somewhere

You’re keeping yourself together during your Red Line commute. You’ve even started listening to pop music again (instead of that non-stop Bright Eyes/Elliott Smith playlist). Just as Katy Perry's "Roar" comes through your headphones, a little girl gets on the train. Does this child know she can still be president one day? Do you even believe that anymore? Your eyes burn with impending wetness.

Plan of action: Aggressively search for something in your purse. Maybe even add a sotto, "It must be at the very bottom?" Shove your whole head in to cry in peace. Tote bags are best for large heads.

Backup plan: Carry around a trumpet at all times to mute your whimpers.

Fro-yo faceplant

You fundamentally disagree with the current health care system and were looking forward to having it obliterated. Then, while adding cookie dough to your fro-yo cup, you overhear the radio announce our president-elect might actually keep most of Obamacare intact. Did you cast your vote for a suspected bigot for nothing?

Plan of action: Crank the French vanilla valve up to 11 and “trip,” conveniently landing face-first in the overflow. No one will be able to tell your sobs are swirled into the soft-serve.

Backup plan: Create a fake tornado drill and get everyone the hell out of that yogurt shop.

Blame everything on Ryan Gosling

Your significant other comes home and asks, “How about Chinese for dinner?” You scream in response, “I don’t know how to move forward, OK? Stop putting all this pressure on me!” And then you start to bawl. Not because you’re mad at your partner—you’re mad at yourself, because you did not vote. And everything might be your fault.

Plan of action: Have the climactic scene of “Blue Valentine” queued up on Netflix. Gaze at the screen, frozen on an image of Ryan Gosling’s failed marriage and weep yourself dry.

Backup plan: Same as above, but “The Notebook.”

Just own it, because you’re not alone

You’re taking a five-minute break in your shared cubicle and check Twitter. Immediately, your soul is smashed by stories of hate crimes, arguments between friends about the value of protesting and attempts at optimism that are immediately deemed offensive.

Should you stop torturing yourself with news? Or must you remain present even at the expense of your sanity? Is moving on with your life too passive? Is stewing too aggressive?

You cry. You cry from frustration, sadness, worry and so much more. You have nowhere to hide. You put a sleep mask over your eyes, but your co-worker can see your shoulder sobs. You express your honest feelings. Your co-worker, emboldened by your sincerity, starts to express her confusion with the nightmare that is America in 2016. You do not feel debilitating embarrassment. You have an open conversation. You both bust out the tissues.

This post also appears at redeyechicago.com

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Follow Alice Stanley Jr. on Twitter & Instagram @astanjr.