Here Comes The Flood (doo doo doo doo)

Let Go – Imogen Heap

I love crying.  I cry when I am happy and when I am sad.  It always feels so pure, serene, peaceful to let everything fall out.  Every time I cry, I feel stronger, braver, and calmer.

I’m sitting in my bed tonight.  Candle burning, lights off, with no sound but ringing in my ears from blasting music too loud for too long.  I realize that I blast music in a vain attempt to drown out my thoughts.  In therapy today, I admitted how desolate I feel and have felt lately.  I endured a “trial by fire” of PTSD trigger management.  Today, though, I did something different.  I talked to my kids about how much I love them. That part isn’t new, of course.  I wanted them to see, though, who their Mommy is.  With their father, I told them each their birth stories.  I was relieved to hear him tell them how much they should respect me for how much I love them, and how much I do for them.  That message has been lost lately.

I told them, finally, about their half sister.  This is a pain I hold on to so tightly and silently.  My kids had no idea I gave a child up for adoption.  I showed them pictures of her, pictures of them as babies, and I cried and talked.  We shared good memories, Groundhog Day popped on the TV, right at my favorite part. Bill Murray whispering to Andi MacDowell about how she is the kindest, sweetest, gentlest woman he has ever known.  I couldn’t stop the tears.  It made me wonder how I’ve lost that person who sees all of these sides of me and understands that I am deeply flawed but deeply loving.  Their father was once my rock, but now I feel as though I bash myself against him.  It reminded me of how, a few years ago, I was so lost that I could not cry. Nothing could make me cry.  I felt so dead inside at that time.  In many ways, I may have lost everything over the past few weeks.  Today, I stopped fighting, because it’s killing me.  I can still feel the numbness lingering – my lips, my feet, and my head  still are not what they were.  I’ve lost a drastic amount of weight inadvertently.  I started Seroquel and Prozac.  The Seroquel is not making me feel right.

I hate that feeling – rotting inside your own body.  Lately though, it is exactly how I’ve been existing.  Sleep has fallen away from me, smiles are elusive, and dry tears are par for the course.  Doubt, uncertainty, and questions are a constant.  Fear has been my worthless compass. I’ve been struggling with, “Why can’t I just be happy?” today, I realized, I won’t let myself.  I feel I don’t deserve it.  That is an awful waste of life, and my life has been too beautiful to waste dying.

I remembered sobbing as I was nursing my son to The Notebook, also sobbing when they killed King Kong (screaming it’s not fair!), and sobbing listening to Snuff by Slipknot or ZZYXZ Rd by Stone Sour.  Crying reminds me that I am alive.  Crying reminds me of rainy days, snuggling under blankets and being glad to have a warm home to be dry and safe.  Crying eases the pain, and pain is something I have grown weary of. There are so many words I will never actually hear, and maybe that is for the best.

I’ve wasted weeks apologizing for too much.  I did not realize how utterly numb I can get. Apathy and disassociation became me.  Today, though, I found the feeling I’ve been missing for some time.  Serenity.

I have a few simple hopes – to see the sun tomorrow, to spend a day without looking or thinking about my own shadows, and to feel confident enough to cry whenever I feel the slightest tingle.  It’s been far too long.

I looked up at the sky and saw God’s thumbnail after I opened up to my kids.  I smiled and thought, “Maybe that’s a good sign.”  I am so very grateful to find maybe in my vocabulary.  Maybe implies hope, and hope is the only thing that has and will keep me going.

Looking at my kids crying and smiling with me, their amazement of me, and feeling them want to have me by their side gave me that serenity I’ve missed.  It’s time for me to stop repeating history.  It’s time to stop hoping people will change.  It’s time to stop trying to change, and choosing change.  I still do not know what I do not know, and that is good enough for me.

Wrap me in a bolt of lightning
Send me on my way still smiling
Maybe that’s the way I should go
Straight into the mouth of the unknown
I left the spare key on the table
Never really thought I’d be able
To say that I’ll visit on the weekends
I lost my whole life and a dear friend
I’ve said it so many times
I would change my ways no never mind
God knows I tried!

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me its over, I’ll still love you the same
Call me your favorite
Call me the worst
Tell me its over I don’t want you to hurt
Its all that I can say
So I’ll be on my way

I finally put it all together, nothing really lasts forever
I had to make a choice that was not mine
I had to say goodbye for the last time
I put my life in a suitcase
Never really stayed in one place
Maybe that’s the way it should be
You know I’ve lived my life like a gypsy

I’ve said it so many times
I would change my ways, no never mind
God knows I tried!

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me its over, I’ll still love you the same
Call me your favorite
Call me the worst
Tell me its over I don’t want you to hurt
Its all that I can say
So I’ll be on my way

I’ll always keep you inside
You healed my heart and my life
And you know I’ve tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me its over, I’ll still love you the same
Call me your favorite
Call me the worst
Tell me its over I don’t want you to hurt
Its all that I can say
So I’ll be on my way
So I’ll be on my way
So I’ll be on my way

Call Me – Shinedown