CRY YOUR HEART OUT

I haven't shared words with the world in a long time and I think that is because I have, in some ways become more cautious. Less courageous with baring my soul to strangers. More inclined to keep things to myself and to cry. Today I remembered though that I intended this blog to be a place to document my life as it is, the magic and the melancholy. I'm beginning to accept that it is okay for the latter to linger on days when the magic seems absent.


On a Sunday in August I wrote:
"I sat tall in a chair with a child on my lap and very nearly let tears roll. I kept them back, for I could not comprehend why they were swelling in and almost out of my silent, solitary soul. I feared that if I let them fall I'd be obliged to offer explanations that I didn't have. All I knew what that I felt anxious.

Today as I cradled and cuddled children I was thankful for kisses they placed upon my cheeks. And with their lips they spoke words that made my heart tremble in the best way. But I still felt anxious. I wanted to cry again.  

Tonight I've been making pom poms and staying up far too late listening to Keaton Henson. The belated burden of lonesome blues has settled on my back and helped me to understand my anxiety. And so I fold my facade and say IT'S OKAY TO CRY YOUR HEART OUT. "


A few weeks later on a Monday I remember sitting at the table eating a cheese and pickle sandwich and crying but not knowing why. My shoulders were low, heavy with the weight of absolutely everything. Too many things. I began to question my sanity and worry about my state of mind, which only made matters worse. I became even more overwhelmed.

I've been told before that I am a highly sensitive person. Once two years ago and again two weeks ago, both were times when I needed more than anything to understand my mind but I didn't listen. It was not until this morning that I sat down to discover that in fact my friend and my mother were right. Everything makes so much more sense. I'm not insane, I'm just sensitive.