The Build-up To A Cry
Maybe you cry regularly or can’t even remember the last time you did it.
It may be something in particular that’s happened, a trigger. It could be meds and hormone imbalances. It may be for seemingly no reason. Or perhaps it’s simply because everything has got on top of you; you try hard to distract yourself, numb yourself & stay busy, but suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed, the turbulence lurking under the surface unable to stay hidden any longer.
And then the flood gates open. You cry. You can’t help it. You can’t seem to stop it. The tears come and you wonder how they got there, and how you’ve got so many to cry.
For me, it happened on Saturday. There was some sad news we received; hearing this and seeming my mother upset triggered it, on top of my hormones being out of whack, pain getting difficult to manage and lack of sleep. I don’t know where the rest came from; it hit me from nowhere and I realised I painfully sad, I was angry at so many things, felt let down by people, I felt alone, I had so many regrets, so many worries, so much pent up and bundled up and tucked away. I started crying and I couldn’t stop. This wasn’t about me, this thing that triggered it. But the avalanche that ensued didn’t let up. I tried to keep busy and distract myself but the usual tactics weren’t working. I was exhausted. My head hurt like hell. My eyes were so raw that I actually slept that night for four hours straight through, which is two more than I have for a few weeks. The next day I felt numb, with some intermitted crying like pesky rain showers that come out of nowhere on a sunny day. It’s just a waiting game.
Today, things feel slightly lighter. There’s no crying forecast. There’s no breakdown imminent. Today, I have to get back to focusing on things I need to do and being productive, while trying to appreciate that I’m not all that strong right now. I’ll be driving on Wednesday, all things being well, to take my mother to see her brother, who she hasn’t seen in a few years but speaks to regularly on the phone. If he’s moved before then, we’ll have to delay the trip a few days.
She had a call to say he’s dying. My uncle, who’s been in and out of hospital for weeks and fighting off everything that’s been thrown at him. Now, after many infuriating problems with the hospital and the awful care he’s received, it seems his body may have had enough. I still hope he’ll surprise them all and pull through. He made it through the weekend, which they’d hoped he would. Maybe it’ll be a week, maybe several. Nobody knows. I won’t share more than this, but you get the idea. I’m not a fan of driving long distances so I’ll factor in a break midway and hopefully get us there in 4 hours, then stay overnight so we can visit him again in the morning. We’ll be seeing other family we haven’t seen in a long time, too. I’ve got a lot of things to sort out before going, appointments to re-arrange, stoma supplies to pack, making sure my father has everything he needs while we’re away, albeit briefly, as his health is a constant worry too.
Would I have cried like I did without that phone call, without seeing my mother upset? Probably not. It had been so long, I can’t remember when I last cried properly. But eventually I would have self-imploded, being too overwhelmed without even realising it.
It’s Okay To Not Be Okay
I’m writing this to a. let you know I may not be around the blogging world for a couple of days, and b. to remind you that sometimes it’s good to let go, to acknowledge what’s going on and have a good cry. I mean a proper one, a full-on, snotty mess of a cry that requires countless tissues and leaves your eyes sore.
It’s okay to cry your eyes out. It’s okay to let go and give in (not up) for a little while. Be kind to yourselves.