Have a Good Cry

      My heart hurts.

     Unbeknownst to me, my heart has silently been mourning all the things this stupid pandemic has cost me this year.  Mother's Day with my mom.  Father's Day with my dad.  My daughter's wedding reception.  My parents' birthdays and their anniversary.  A friend's wedding.  The annual festival in my home town.  My sister's birthday.  And, now, Thanksgiving.

     I've been robbed.  I took for granted the time I got to spend with my family, and now I don't have it.  This pandemic has created a fear of togetherness.  It's isolating.  Generally, I like to be alone, but I didn't expect this to affect me like it has.  I didn't expect it to last so long.

     My kids have lived apart from me for years.  Often in other states.  We've celebrated holidays together and apart before, but it's never felt like this.  We also had the ability to visit with each other whenever we wanted.  Now, I settle for sporadic visits and fleeting minutes in coffee shops and parking lots.  As I drove home from one of those meetings today, hot tears stung my eyes.  Slowly at first.  One hot tear at a time, burning my skin as it rolled down my cheek.

     If you know me, you know I don't cry.  I loathe it. Along with most other expressions of emotion; they make me uncomfortable.  But tears are the worst.  They make me feel weak.  Childish.  Exposed.  It feels like I'm betraying myself, especially when I can't control it.

     The tears came faster.  My heart felt heavy in my chest.  Every beat echoed in my ears like a drum.  Grief washed over me.  We won't get to spend Thanksgiving with our daughter and her wife.  The loss filled me with sadness.  The idea of them being alone, eating sandwiches, made me so sad.  One more thing stolen this year.

     I got home with red, swollen eyes.   My husband was concerned.  My crying makes him as uncomfortable as it makes me.  I assured him that I was just sad.  But as I went through the motions of making dinner, the tears fought to surface.  I thought about how isolated I am.  My autoimmune diseases put me at risk.  Those who love me want to keep me safe.  I get that, but how much longer will we have to be separated?  This is a lot, even for someone who appreciates solitude.  I'm sure as the week goes on, there will be more tears.  It won't just be me.  Our families, our neighbors, are all suffering the same loss.  

     Be kind.

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.