I wanted to reach out...
I got bad news today. It was from my son. When he told me, I kept a smile on my face. I paused... ran and told my best friend what happened... came back down and finished the conversation. I kept a smile plastered on my face. I knew he wouldn’t catch the underlying pain ... anger ... hurt ... sadness ... betrayal... frustration ... underneath my fake smile. He never does.
When we finished talking, I just said “okay.” And then it hit. All of those feeling - they came to the surface. I cried. I cried until my face was red. I cried until my eyes were puffy. I cried until I had a headache. I cried until I couldn’t breath. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. I hurt. I sat with it. I stopped trying to rationalize. I stopped trying problem solve. I stopped trying to understand. I just sat with my feelings.
I wanted to reach out to you. I felt like no one, in that moment, would understand better than you. I felt like you would have the right words. I felt like you would know exactly what to say. I didn’t though. I didn’t reach out. I stopped. I knew you wouldn't be there for me.
Then, I went upstairs. I took a bath with a lovely, calming bath bomb. I listened to sad music with my mud mask on. I wondered if my eyes would be puffy in the morning. *They were.* And then, when the water was cold, the mask was dry, and I could barely keep my eyes open any longer, I got out. I wrapped up in a warm robe and went to sleep.
I’ve never felt more alone. Though many have gone through this before me, I felt so alone and isolated. I also wanted to be alone and isolated. And because of where we’re at in today’s world, I am isolated.
I’ll talk about it tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll sleep on it. My heart will break. Tears might come. But I’ll deal with it tomorrow. I’ll get through it. I’m not alone. And tomorrow is another day. And I didn’t reach out.