It's a Long Jump

I've been feeling a strange little stirring for the past few days.  No, I'm not pregnant, so it's not that kind of stirring.  It's a restlessness, an unsettled feeling, a -dare I say it- need for change.  Change and I aren't usually on speaking terms.

Truth be told, I started this post about two months ago. And, yes, I'm still feeling this way.  Physically, there has been many changes.  Most of which I'm not happy about.  There's been emotional changes, too.  Those are way more complicated than any physical change could ever be.

After living in somewhat of a cocoon for five years or so, I feel like I am finally emerging and facing the world in a new way. I'm ready to take back things that were stolen from, or lost to, me.  I'm done hiding in the shadows, believing the lies spoken to me, about me.  But it's hard taking that first step!

I feeling like I'm teetering on the edge, in danger of falling from a cliff.  I also know, though, that the only way to fly is to be pushed out of the nest, with nothing to break the fall but the ground.  I think this step is harder the second time around. I did fly once.  I was strong, brave and courageous.  I was out there.  I was doing. And then I was shot down.  There was no blaze of glory. It was a fiery, hideous crash!  That experience makes it even harder for me to step off the ledge again.

Yet the stirring continues.

Tears: let them roll

Have you ever felt like you really just need a good cry?  That's where I find myself lately.  The emotions seems to continually be bubbling just below the surfce.  A few tears may escape, here and there, but the torrent is dammed up. 

Crying can be incredibly cathartic.  Things just seem to be lighter, the air cleaner, the soul restored.  But there is also a tremendous feeling of vulnerability that makes it hard for me to really get there.  It's not that I'm opposed to crying, per se, just with what it represents.  Tears remind me of children, weakness and loss.  "Tears of joy" is something I have never understood, let alone experienced.

I'm not sure why it's so hard for me.  Well, yes I am.  There was a time when it was pretty free-flowing between bouts of stoicism.  But it was used against me, so I turned it off again.  It's not that I'm trying to keep it together for someone else; it's really is simply about me.  I need to keep it together for me.  If I just surrender to it I might not stop.

There is so much for me to mourn in my life right now, and yet it seems selfish to do it.  There is also so much that is good, and I don't want to overshadow that.  That's the quandry I find myself in:  I'm conflicted about where to put my energy, my focus.  It feels like it should be easy.  Why wouldn't I just focus on the good?  Good question. One I don't have an answer for.  Maybe because my emotions are just at the end.  My physical body is in constant pain, fighting me at every turn.  Stealing so much energy and strength.

I'm not sure crying would really help, but it seems like such a good idea.  Maybe that's just the exhaustion speaking.  That's likely.  I'm beyond worn out, and that usually goes one of two ways: extreme giddiness/silliness/laughter (which hasn't happened in what seems like an eternity) or tears. Yet I hang here in limbo.

Sounds like a chick flick might be in my near future.