I need to cry.
I try not to post my most tender feelings on my blog, but today is an exception.
I’m typing and wiping ~ tears flow as the iPhone plays soft songs. It’s 12:30 p.m., and I’ve only been out of bed to go to the bathroom. It’s a sick day for me. Began as a physical nausea. When that passed, my mind and chest showed the real origination of my ill feelings. Dealing with depression and intermittent grief over life-changes exhausts me. I want out. I just want out.
I can’t get out because of my kids. My mama. I can’t do that to them. They don’t know how much I hurt sometimes, though. They keep saying that I am loved and that life will get better. I’ve waited for four years. Life is better, but not “better.” I miss my kids every single day. Not a “lonesome” like other moms seem to experience. Mine is a longing that shreds at my insides. I can’t look at old photos or videos. I’m a pathetic jumble of emotions and dysfunction.
I’ll put on a mask, walk outdoors, buy groceries, attend classes ~ almost fooling myself into believing that I’m enjoying life. Later, I see it was a temporary situation.
I’ve been enjoying the embalming cases I’ve worked in the prep room. Though I wonder how much of that is adding stress to my life. I dreamed I died last night. I drowned in my car. Bubble, bubble . . . . I was surprised that when I took a deep breath underwater, I felt no pain. I was transported to a different environment. Always being tested on my behavior by “those in charge,” who could decide to banish me into an existence of pain. I cheated – doing things to help other women in my same position. Getting them food, etc. Very sad and stressful dream. I can’t even escape anxiety in my sleep. I evidentally don’t stop nurturing in my sleep, either.
I suppose I’ve now cried enough to release this episode of pain. Do I post this or erase it? My therapy. I’ll post it. Writing is a release. Publishing is just metaphorically sending this pain into cyberspace. Feels good.
Be gone, grief. Be gone, sadness. Be gone, hopelessness. Be gone, apathy.
Be gone – everything just BE GONE.