My tears will tell you that I’m sad.

I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but tears have a different texture, depending on the emotion behind them. Tonight, my tears are sad an disappointed. They are hot and thick and sticky. I don’t want to be this me I am right now. The weak, fearful, exhausted me. The me that feels as if my organs have been replaced by separate balls of anxiety. A black, useless energy that causes my mind to spin and my body to shake. I hate it. This…this flaw that I have, the flaw that I am. I want to win. To conquer each day and yet I have admitted defeat in the night as I thrash in nightmares. My insomnia fills the room and I can hear it breathing while it lurks there. Next to the bed, under the blanket, on my pillow, next to my weary head that seeks peace and solace and calm. Some would say that I give the anxiety, depression and insomnia too much room in my person. However, I accept and embrace them and so we must learn to live together. Some days, a simple meditation will do. Other days, like today, begin and end with my face pressed against my security object. Sticky tears soak the fabric and when I’m on the edge of control, stifle my sobs. I am not crazy. I will not “lose it.” I do not need to be locked away in Sageview. This too shall pass and life gets better. While they are somewhat obnoxious cliche’s, I logically believe them to be true. Here in the dark, I do not feel that my God has forsaken me. He might be dragging me by my hair, but we are getting somewhere. Right now that is here, typing in my blog and releasing the bad, the broken, the lack of emotional beauty that does shame me. This week, giving in to the ugly, the dysfunction, the suffocating, means that I will miss a very important celebration. I have prayed about it and screamed about it. I am so angry that my life has limits. I want to dance and sing and celebrate and put aside my fear and social phobia. I won’t go so far as to say that I can’t. Rather I acknowledge that I am making a choice to let them stay. It has happened in the past that when I let them in, they stay awhile, we visit, I pray, we make amends and one day, out of the dark, the sun shines brighter than the day before. The air smells sweeter. The strength I’ve shown before is simply hiding. I know how easy I have it compared to many. Yet here I am overwhelmed and admittingly wallowing. I trust that those who love me, will have read the countless posts I’ve put on social media about what not to say with someone who has anxiety. Do not patronize me with “get over it” or other toxic nonsense. Either love me, or leave me. You don’t have to get in the muck and mess, with me. You can wait it out from far away. Or you can pray. I ask little as I have almost nothing to offer in return now. Except this. I love you. I can give this away and have enough left for myself. Today, my tears will tell you that I’m sad.

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About reinventingrebecca

Human, Christian, Wife, Mother, Daughter, Reunited Adoptee, Sister, Friend. I love all people. I've lived lots in my 35 years and all of it has made me who I am, and who I choose not to be. View all posts by reinventingrebecca

4 responses to “My tears will tell you that I’m sad.

  • charissagrace

    ohhhh.

    ohhhhh….groan…aching and crying with you all day. You just said it…so perf. What I have lived, what I have faced…and yes, so glad you cry out those tears…get that stuff out.

    I have asked before why my tears run unending and never dry…it is so I can be cleansed.

    and even then…NO! ESPECIALLY then you surrender to God, because who can do anything BUT that, the one Authentic act in the face of the thing that haunts, hurts, cuts and hates?

    I will never ever walk away, or be away…and while we do not live within a quick drive, I will tarry with you in gethsemane anytime…anytime…

    Gethsemane means “place of great pressing” and there was a big press in that place, where that which is precious is pressed out of that which is the mere carrier…olives…grapes…and human hearts…this is why the Lord did that awful business there…

    Love you so, true sister…true friend.
    Rissa

  • reinventingrebecca

    I don’t cry often because I am afraid that I will never stop. Nothing makes me lose control faster than letting down the wall that keeps back the storm of tears. Even while writing this post, I had to keep looking away, putting my head down, taking breaks. Yet, I had to get past the place of keeping all the toxic sh*t stuffed inside. New relationships, even family, are always a risk for me because it adds one more person to my life to disappoint and potentially hurt by my ugly.

  • Suz

    Fwiw, i have a similar approach to my own anxiety. My therapist taught me to welcome it in, invite it to sit down next to me. As long as I was fighting it, giving it power, I made it stronger. When I said “oh, hi, hello” it becomes less intense for me.

    • reinventingrebecca

      Suz, I have gotten in a rut of angry and anxious. A horrible combination. I agree with acknowledging anxiety and recognizing it early. I wallowed this time. Today, I feel like I’m climbing out of the whole. I still have anger to process and let go of. ❤

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