No tears in the house.

I’m finally sitting down to type. I’ve been avoiding this, because I’ve needed to write and express the feelings welling up inside me, but I haven’t wanted to. I don’t always share what I write, and I don’t know if I'll share this. But writing has long been a therapeutic life force, allowing the emotions to come out.

Last night, I texted a friend that I was on the bus hoping to cry, because I couldn’t cry at home. That’s been my rule. No tears allowed in my house. It’s my safe place, and my haven. It will not be a place of weakness. And so I cry in church, and in other people’s houses, or on the bus. But never in my house. I walked in and squared my shoulders, my resolve and strength summoned on the threshold.

It's hard being alone. I’m perfectly capable, and if the last few years have taught me anything, I can thrive on my own. But it’s tiring. Tiring to try to flip the bloody table by myself. Tiring to slog through the groceries alone. Tiring to try to figure out appointments for drivers licenses, and healthcare, and all the other things, with no one else. I could use a break. Someone to come get my affairs in order and help me pick up after.

But I’m here. Grinding and slogging away.

I remember hearing what if I fail? And someone responds, oh my darling, but what if you fly. Some days I do feel like I’m flying. Some days I’m literally flying and life couldn't be better. But some days, the weight of life is heavy. 

----------------

It's always when the pain is the highest I wish the hardest for someone. To hold me and comfort me and feed me and be my strength when I don't have my own. My back hurts. Not sure if it was Sundays hike, or the new round of Ozempic or a tumor. Biryani and cookies comforted my soul a bit this weekend. And my office biryani provided dinner as well. A smoked kielbasa and some cheese temporarily masked the intense pain. I feel so tired. I remembered my rule not to cry in the house and stood at my fridge, internally pondering if I could cry on the balcony instead. That surely didn't count as the house. 

I sit here in silence. The hum of a car and voices outside the only thing breaking the stillness. In here, the curtains don't even dare to flutter. Turning my head and my hair brushing against the sequin pillow sounds like screaming. I sit perfectly still. Afraid even typing this on my phone too fast will break the darkness demons and unleash them. 

There's something so comforting about a hug. And being held. And being close to other humans. But life presently doesn't afford me those comforts often. 

~~~~~~~~~

disclaimer: these writings are not from this week, and I am doing well for those who will worry and text me :) But I do find it important to share and write the heavy as well as the happy.