Land of Lakes and Volcanoes

I used to cry a lot, like a really really lot.  For large periods of my life, I cried at least once a day.  I'm not going to get into specifics about what times of my life were the "worst" since what was going on in my life wasn't responsible for the tears.  It was like I was a cup that was full of water and any little thing would just make me overflow, and the only way I knew to deal with things was to cry.  Difficult conversations with people would start the waterworks, and I'd keep talking, since I thought that was just my reaction to any kind of emotional stress and just try to convince whoever I was talking to that that particular conversation wasn't responsible.  And I was right.  I wasn't crying about that little conversation, I was crying about all of it.  It took a divorce (accepting that I could be imperfect and still loved), Nicaragua (learning that I could make things happen when I really wanted), and my mom's death (finally dealing with ma...