Do you ever find yourself in that place where you burst into tears or at least you want to but the tears don’t actually come? Your pain is real, your heart wounded, the desire and intent to cry is real and the emotion underlying it all is very real but the tears simply won’t come.
That is my place, the place where my innerness resides right now, right at this very moment I am in that place. I paused mid doing to cry but my tears won’t or can’t come so I am left with this in limbo emotional unreleased.
I don’t really know why I’ve arrived here though I am at least certain it will pass.
I live with the hope that my fairy godmother will show up or the handsome knight on the majestic white horse will ride in and everything will be made alright for me. They will take care of it all and I am saved. Wouldn’t that be nice? Don’t you ever just wish someone could come in and take over all the undesirable states of being, the ones that unsettle the heart and wobble the soul so that we can wonderfully reside in that place where all is well.
But should that happen would my journey of growth and understanding and uncovering then take place. And would I even notice?
Perhaps, but having chosen to undertake this journey I do feel a sense of need to see it through. No matter the moments that land me in a place that aches.
Affirmations do work, I know they do as I have found strength from doing them for myself. Unfortunately doing them consistently and daily and when the need arises throughout any given day is a discipline and my consistency is a little rocky thus the place of funk can easily and readily reach me.
It’s not even about alcohol although for the sake honesty a glass of chilled dry wine would be quite nice about now but then even as I write that I sense it’s not even a real thought. It’s more a throwback desire from another time. No, it’s about something deeper, not totally visible because I choose not to want to face it so it hides on the fringes but I can sense the belief of failure in there and so I choose to hide from that thought.
I feel a little robbed though at not being able to cry. I crave the release that a good sobbing can bring. A release that allows the heart to rid itself of that emotional wound that currently festers.
Ahh, fear is there to , my old foe.
Well, I can’t cry and so that release and support avenue is not open to me so I must find another. I am nothing if not a glass half full work in progress. And so my weary heart, soul and body shall rise yet again, brush off the proverbial dust and work with the motions of getting through until I am.