I have been given the same message….write. I heard it from my friends. I heard it from an angel card reading and in meditation. It was the same every time, what are you waiting for, write? It got more intense after I had stopped blogging. I promised this blog to be the truth of my life. And so I stopped. It started getting real. I was doing a dance around the truth. I was hinting at my life, but felt fear to be honest with you about the real truth of who I am. But, now I have been given a twist in my life that makes telling the truth a release and not a burden.
I’m tough. I’m so tough that I barely ever cry, but when I do its to the strangest people. I cried on the phone talking to our insurance company today. I told the kind lady on the phone I wasn’t crying about my questions to her, but my tears had built up so much inside that now they were spilling out asking her to send a new password. I have kept my tears restricted in the confines around my heart. I stopped crying because I was yelled at for crying. “Quit your crying.” I realize now that is just them not wanting to show their emotions by telling me not to show mine. I cried and the kids would cry. I stopped and with that it stopped bothering everyone else with my tears. But, they were still there. They were constantly brimming up through the eyes and even in times of silence. I retreated farther into my sealed vault and I thought I was in control, but if I let nothing out I didn’t focus on that I let nothing in.
Now, as I think of all this while I type I cry now. I cry for all the times that I didn’t let it out. I cry for the times that I was told to quit and instead I should have started wailing as hard as I could. I should have cried so hard that gobs of snot and spit riddled the front of my shirt and everything in a 10 foot radius. I cry for the times that I was trying not to worry others about my tears. I cry at the thought that I missed out on the hugs from friends who would have let me cry and held me, grabbing me tissues, and asking me if I was ok. I cry for the times that I was hurt. I should have screamed and bellowed out my tears that everyone around me was uncomfortable and had to check in on their own emotions. I cry for when my mom was sick and didn’t know what to do or how to help her. I should have cried and screamed with her at the unfairness of getting sick and dying. I missed out on the reality of my situations and they were desensitized by my lack of emotions. Instead, I bottled it in.
It is time. A good cry is real. I want the snot. I want the puffy eyes. I want you to pass the tissues. I want you to still love me when I’m weak. I want you to hold me and just stay silent. I want to feel vulnerable. I want the fucking release. I want it out of my heart and soul. I want to lose the heaviness of it lingering. I want to be free.