4.13.2016

Absolute Truth

He holds me while I cry and whispers in my ear.

The past two days in particular have been glazed with a steady flow of tears, wept for a multitude of reasons and to simply ease the pain inside me as well as they can.  Sometimes I think that there is a deep crack in my heart and soul, and when the seeds of heartbreak and hopelessness grow into vines reaching for my surface it means resetting and beating them back.

Life overall is so, so good.  But sometimes the stress builds up because I'm thinking about how hard it's been to find a new place to move to - harder than in 16 years of renting.  It builds up because I'm uncertain about my job and where it's going for me.  It builds up because I try so hard, I work, I'm out of the house for 10 hours a day, and I still can't get by.  Because I had to take sick days for me and the kids and I am long out of paid time off, and now I'm behind and I don't see how I can get back on top.  Because I was doing well, but then one bump in the road knocks everything off track.  It builds up because I have things to do, commitments, passions, and plans, but I am tired and it's really difficult not to just spend the small amount of me-time I get to just relax.  It builds up because I have to watch as my ex takes spontaneous trips to casinos and shows me her new watch and I am struggling so hard.  It builds up because I feel like I don't do enough for my kids, even though I do the best I can.  It builds up because I have birthday parties to plan and am already thinking about how I'll afford childcare or what the kids will do during summer break.

Each stressor adds to it, brings it closer, rubs me a bit more raw.  And then, something happens, and I break.  I am grieving the loss of someone who was important in my life, and taken from this place much too soon.  It's hard for me to tell which tears are shed for her, and for her loved ones who are also my friends, and which tears are because of anything else.  It all just mashes together into this ball of pain that makes my chest ache and my body curl up and tears flow.

He tells me that I am safe, and to let it out.

I cry harder because there is this thought licking at my brain, that for so long I was not safe.  I hate thinking about it.  I hate that it still affects me, that I still carry the memory and conditioning of not being safe, not being okay, not being allowed to feel my feelings and have them be okay.  I try to be okay with the fact that I'm such a wreck, and to believe him when he tells me we all need help sometimes, we all need to break down and cry sometimes, that I don't have to be strong all the time, and that this is okay and I don't need to feel bad about it.  I try to silence that part of myself that feels guilty for not being fun to be around right now, for spending our time in the self care I need - warm dinner, TV, and cuddling and nothing more, and being held while I cry - and make myself believe that he really means what he says, that he loves me and wants to support me and that there is nothing to feel bad about.

He says that I am one of the strongest people he's ever met.

I try to believe him but I feel weak.  I feel helpless and I feel annoying.  I worry that if I post one more status update about how I'm struggling, about how I'm having a hard time, about how hard things are sometimes, that my friends will start to disappear, to drop away because no one wants to hear someone be negative over and over.  And I try not to be, because I am happy, but having a hard time, at the same time.  It makes me feel weak that there are so many things I cannot change that are making things difficult.

He offers to take on my stress and worries, tells me to pour them out into his arms.

And I do.  I cry hard and I nestle into his hands on my back, and my tears stain his shirt, and I try to let go and find serenity in the knowledge that I am doing my best, and to believe him when he tells me that I'm an amazing person and a wonderful mother.  I try to let him take some of the weight of this burden from my shoulders, to lighten my load.

He promises to help me through this, and tells me I never have to be alone again.

It's absolute truth.  He means what he says, and his heart is so good.  And even though in that moment I feel all of these things - weak and mopey and not very much fun - because he is with me, I know that it's not forever.  He helps me remember that my heart will be okay, that everything will work out somehow.  I know that he is right, and that even if I don't feel it right now, someday soon I will feel strong again and will be able to climb back up and grab life by the horns.  But for now, he helps me remember that it is okay if sometimes I am not okay.