99 Out Of The Lou | Discombobulated with Bobby Jaycox

A sunrise at the Arch, a long overnight drive, and a confession most of us dodge: sometimes the tears just don’t stop, and the only thing that steadies you is the road. We head back to St. Louis to face a stack of old memories—prom photos, a busted elbow, a skyline that still knows too much—and use humor to navigate the heaviness. It’s raw without being bleak, funny without being flippant, and honest about how weird and human it is to cry next to someone you love while pretending you’re fine.We dig into the small mechanics of hiding big feelings—the fake yawn, the damp sunglasses, the careful breath—and the bigger question of when to share and when to protect your own space. Emotions show up like antique store finds: pretty in the aisle, awkward at home, and tough to part with even when they don’t fit your life. We talk about being “on reserve” for other people’s loneliness, setting boundaries without burning bridges, and why the instinct to go numb can feel easier than being open. Along the way, there’s a rant about bench pressing, a case for gentler movement, and a reminder that presence often starts with a walk, a laugh, and a phone on airplane mode.This story isn’t about perfect healing; it’s about staying with yourself long enough to hear what the feelings are saying and then deciding what to keep. If you’ve ever driven home just to remember why you left, or stared at a city that holds both joy and regret, you’ll recognize the pulse here. Press play, ride shotgun through the nostalgia and the noise, and leave with a lighter grip on what no longer serves you.If this resonates, subscribe, share with a friend who might need it, and drop a review. Tell me: what place still messes with your heart, and what did it teach you to carry?Support the showhttps://www.patreon.com/c/DiscombobulatedwithBobbyJaycox