Sometimes I have to sit on my damned hands to keep myself from doing something I really want to do but shouldn’t. And then I get up off my hands and come tell you all about it, because everyone loves hearing about someone else’s crazy, right? :)
I deliberately didn’t blog after therapy last night. I hadn’t cried in session in a long time, but the drought ended in grand fashion. I spent the first half talking about all of the amazing things that have happened and that I’m doing for myself and that I’m hopeful about, and the second half with tears streaming down my face non-stop. I’d love to say they were the cathartic kind of tears, the kind of cry that leaves you feeling refreshed and ready to pick up and move again and just altogether better – but it wasn’t. It was the kind of cry that sits just behind your eyes and nose and in a lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest and waits for you to acknowledge it even a tiny bit and then it threatens to spill all over no matter where you are, what you’re doing, or who you’re with. Right now, I’m fighting this cry at my desk at work, telling it that I only have six minutes left of my lunch break, dammit, and I wanna get this post written, edited, and shared before my time is up.
It’s okay to feel a lot of things all at the same time. And sometimes one feeling will be a little bigger than the others and make it feel like it’s the only one, but it isn’t. And while this means that when happiness and hope and excitement edge to the front, that’s not all there is, it also means that when I feel so sad and lonely and confused, that’s not all there is, either.
I’m really looking forward to this weekend; it’s supposed to be beautiful outside, so I think I’m going to take another nice long walk in the morning and not miss the indoor farmer’s market by ten minutes this week, and then maybe grab Joshua and head to Mackworth or Fort Williams. I’ll even let him choose, since he doesn’t get a choice about whether or not to leave the damned house for a couple of hours :)