I don’t like to cry in front of people. It‘s happened. But it’s uncomfortable for me. Let’s start with the fact that I can’t seem to achieve the doe eyed, glowing, tear streaked face found only on Jennifer Anniston in some chick flick. Nor can I achieve gut wrenching sobs in a Oscar winning way. When I cry it’s not a pretty sight. Blotchy face, sinuses overblown, nose running like a faucet , eyes red and swollen darn near shut and the sounds emitting from my mouth sound like what I'm sure a dying cow sounds like. It’s quite frightening actually!
I have always been able to cry to my husband and find comfort in his arms. At least that’s the way it used to be. The one person I knew I could always count on when it really mattered is gone. I don’t mean to say I can’t count on my friends and other family members. I can. But… he has been my rock, my other half, and, I always believed, my soul mate for almost half of my life. I always knew when push came to shove I could lean on him. I don’t know if I remember how to be alone. And I don’t want to remember.
I cry alone most of the time now. I try not to overdo it. I really do. Because I realize it simply plays into the notion drilled into my head as a child that I am a drama queen. I’ll admit I was as a kid and I probably still have a little bit of drama queen in me (show me a woman who doesn’t) that comes out full force every once in awhile. I don’t deny my own faults. If anything I probably point them out too often.
But this really isn’t me being a drama queen. This is me feeling more emotional pain than I have ever felt in my life up until this point. I’d imagined, for lack of a better word, what it would be like if something like this were to happen to us. When we were fighting or having a really rough time, not often. I used to think I’d be able to handle it. I had discussions with my girlfriends about it and was adamant that if it were to happen I would do this, this, this and this… I’d react in a certain way. I had no idea what the hell I was talking about. No idea.
I never considered the true depth of the emotional ache. There are moments, though not as frequent as a few months back, when it takes my breath away. I feel it in every bone and muscle in my body. It really does effect me physically. We all know I’m not sleeping much. I’m not eating right. I think the last time I stepped on the scale I was down a good twelve pounds. Ok, I’ll admit.. I don’t really mind that last one. The point is I am blown away by how much this effin hurts!!!
When I’m not crying (like now, though I was about an hour ago) I can look at the situation somewhat logically. I know what I have to do and I do it. One day at a time. When I’m in the throes of a dramatic sobbing event I feel like I’m spinning out of control. Like I’m never, ever, going to feel good again. I want to crawl into my bed, curl into the fetal position and never move.
I don’t. When I’ve reached that point my logical mind usually kicks in and gives me a firm “Dear God Michelle.. Knock it the hell off!”. And I dry my eyes and go about my business.
What I want to know is when is it going to stop feeling so raw?? I know it’s going to hurt for a long time. But for how long will I have these moments where it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and then stomped on for good measure? Because I gotta tell ya’… it’s exhausting.