Today my head and heart are not in a good place. This isn’t a blog discussion, or advice column, or any kind of a call to arms or solidarity.

This is just me writing. 

As I said, I’m not in a good place today and my soul and body are both tired. I was able to sleep finally from 3:30am-5 or so. I’m sad and disappointed. In a lot of things that I normally don’t allow to drag me down. Things are hurting me today that usually bounce off of my composure. I have tears in my eyes.

My heart hurts today.

I can’t remember why I feel like I have to hide the effect of being hurt from others and even myself. I can’t remember when I began to do so. I only know that I’ve always done that, and today I’m not.

The tears are here. I don’t feel like a warrior, I feel wounded.

I would have fought against this a few months ago. I would have hidden it, busied myself with trivialities, and made excuses for who or whatever had caused my pain or sorrow. A lot can change in four months, and it has. Inside me.

I call myself on my own bullshit.

Cognitive Therapy is a game-changer for me. It doesn’t just give me the ability to speak freely to another person without fear of judgement, it helps me hear myself. I listen to my own story, identify the things that are no good for me and come up with a plan to change everything. The belief I have (or don’t) in myself, my reactivity to those around me and the choices I make for myself are all within my ability to change.

No more “someone done me wrong” songs allowed.

I have said and done many things lately that have terrified me. I have admitted some things, accepted some and trashed a few. This has saved me. I have hope now.

Breathing and feeling the darkness of today is part of saving myself.

My therapist told me last time we spoke that there was nothing wrong with me for the tears I was trying not to shed, the sadness I was trying not to feel, the anger at myself or someone else or the circumstances. I told him I thought I was losing my mind because a broken necklace had thrown me into tears and then fury.  I admitted that on the way to see him, when I stopped at a red light I heard a man screaming at his wife/girlfriend and my hand reached out to roll down the window and scream to her…

“For god’s sake, RUN!!”

Apparently I’m not crazy, I’m human. I will have days like these where I learn something that hurts me and I am heartbroken, weepy and need to be alone. He told me I needed to sit with my shit and feel it. Just feel it and let it pass through.

I’m not losing my mind, I’m living my life.

Finally. In color.

Even if today the color is grey.

Today I’m fragile. My usual joy stands on trembling legs. Despair simmers underneath sorrow, but do I really need to go there? I don’t know yet. The day is not over, the sun hasn’t set yet. Maybe I just need to dress up in black and be emo for a few hours…

See? There I go again. I call bullshit. That’s my humor trying to hide the cuts that are deep enough for the scars to be permanent. I’m hilarious. The more I hurt or feel discomfort of any sort, the funnier I am.

Today I’m a riot. I’ll be here all week.

I don’t need advice. I don’t need saved. I don’t need sympathy…but thanks for listening…

Where ever you are.