Expression: Writing vs. Speaking

I had a hard conversation with a friend last night.  I was feeling very angry, overwhelmed, and upset by life in general, and this friend was trying to help me out of that mind set.  Now I admit, I WANTED to feel that way.  There was a perverse joy in feeling those powerful emotions and I wanted to be in that state for a little while.  Yet, I also knew the crash from that angry high would not be pretty.  So with some prompting, I started talking, and instantly wanted to bawl my eyes out.  And did cry some. 

And then when the questioning turned from the 'explain how you are feeling' to the 'well, have you tried to do X in your job search, or what are the parameters you can do Y in ... I got very angry and yelled out in frustration, and went on verbal attack ...

You see Friends, I don't always like talking through the DEEP stuff.  I'll give surface answers all day, but when you start to dig deep in conversation, I get very, VERY uncomfortable. 

Later in the evening I sent this message to my friend... and I think it explains what I go through fairly well:

"It's very uncomfortable for me to put into spoken words the hard 'truths' of my heart and mind ... I typically end up in tears and hysterically crying. I am much better at verbally glazing over the tops of it, leaving it to be interpreted.  The digging, the prodding, the admitting to the places I go in my mind & heart is embarassing

when spoken. 

 

Give me a journal, a key board, and time, and I can write it all out, in a more easily digestible 'pretty' package that can make sense of the chaos and depths of emotion ... and introspection. With writing I don't have to hear the other person agreeing, or disagreeing, or asking to have a point clarified.  If I wanted to be clearer on it, I would have done so in the writing .... 😛  In other words, through writing I don't have to hear the critique ...

 

To speak about it, to be that vulnerable, is something that scares me speechless.  I admit it's a form of connection I yearn for, but also scares me.  Because what if when someone sees how potentially broken and screwed up I am?  What if they then walk away, or use it against me?  Or in some ways, even scarier, what if they get it ?

 

That compassion is just as likely if not more likely to make me cry and sob ...And yet - I've come to realize, this is one of my challenges.  To honestly open up to others, to set my boundaries in my life, and then to open up more to people, and let them know me, ME.  And to share when I can, because that is where the truer, more fulfilling connections are made." 

When Does it Stop?

When does the pain stop, and the acceptance and peace move in?  When will the tears stop coming to the surface when I'm not constantly being present IN the moment?  When?  When does the grief stop sneaking up on me?

TIME.  I have time.  Time to think.  Time to idle.  Time to rest.  ... TIME, that supposedly heals all wounds, heals the hurts.  Supposedly.  I know it's only true in so much that eventually, it won't be as fresh.  As raw.  I know, in my own way that I will heal.  That time will do 'it's thing.'  

But today, I wonder - when?  

Today (well, yesterday at this point), was his Birthday.  Another round of hopes, dreams, and expectations that are not to be.  Another mile marker on this journey called life, still progressing along.  Dropping people off here and there, new players coming on field, others stepping off, new adventures on the way.  But it HURTS.  Today, it HURTS.  Because I have all this TIME.  I thought I was past the tears.  I learned today I am not. 

I am crying for the past.  I am crying for the future.  I am crying for all the times I didn't cry about him, and others.  It's all linked.  One relationship to the next - there are common threads - And with this TIME, I am completing the steps for each one, and that brings tears.  I can see where I went 'wrong' - I can see the patterns, and I can see where and how I can do better in the future - so long as I am open to it.  And I can also see how I really did so much better this last time ...  

Today was a hard day.  A sad day.  Hopes, Dreams, and Expectations came rushing back.  And all I have is TIME to think it through.  So the tears fell, I wrote, I felt, I talked it out, I visited with a friend.  

And still I wonder ... When does it stop? 

Tears, Hope, & Compassion

Tender
Explosive
Abrasive
Restorative
Soothing

 Tears:  noun

1.

a drop of the saline, watery fluid continually secreted by the lacrimal glands between the surface of the eye and the eyelid, serving to moisten and lubricate these parts and keep them clear of foreign particles. Synonyms: teardrop.

2.

this fluid appearing in or flowing from the eye as the result of emotion, especially grief: to shed tears.

Tears.  Crying.  So easy and natural for some, not quite so for me.  I do not know exactly how or where I got the idea, the 'tape', the message, that I should not cry.  That crying won't solve anything, that I don't deserve to cry - because really, is my life so bad?  Really, are you going to cry about this?  Others have it so much worse, why are you crying?  Look at all the good in your life, you don't need to cry about this.  Suck it up, and get over it, look at the bright side ... (what ever it may be for the situation, and there was always something bright to find, if I looked hard enough) - this doesn't deserve tears!

 ... and so, I would swallow the tears, the emotion.  I would put on the happy face, TRY to breath, and move along with my day, night, life.  And thus, having shoved down yet another round of intense emotion to add to the growing, compacted pile, I would carry on. 

That is until recently.  Perhaps within the past 2 weeks.  I have allowed myself to start crying.  The bouts don't last long, but are exhausting none the less.  Great chest wracking, hyperventilating sobs that are releasing the pent up STUFF.  Then I quiet down, and can breath and feel ... EXHAUSTED.  But oh so much better.  Releasing the emotion is wonderful  WHY didn't I do this before?  Because it was a sign of weakness?  Because I felt I needed to carry all that emotion, ALL THE TIME?!  Because I needed to be strong, and PROVE I could 'carry on.'  Prove it to who???  Oh, that's right, all of you ... and me.  Perhaps one day I will figure it out (and really, if I don't find out the reason, but can stop the pattern, that's ok!), but for now, I'm allowing myself to cry, when I can.  When the sensation hits me.  And I know a lot of it is not coming from just these most recent events, but from all the other times I pushed down a fear, a sadness, a personal injustice  It's the compounded effect of years of emotions tied together, which is why I think its so utterly, wonderfully, exhausting.

No, that is not sarcasm - I welcome the exhaustion.  Holding onto all that emotion kept me restless, filled with anxiety and all sorts of insomnia.  Restless, sleepless nights; waking with racing thoughts.  To feel a moment, or a couple hours of pure, worn out exhaustion is - oddly, welcomed.  The healing sleep that comes after is restorative.  Its brief, and good.  

Which all gives me HOPE.  Hope for a brighter tomorrow.  I can see glimmers here and there, that each one is a bit better.  I can feel myself healing a little bit.  And I thank each of my friends and family members for their support and compassion.  Compassion which also brings tears to my eyes, and sometimes sets off the quiet, streaming down the cheeks, loving, healing kind.  The kind that twists and tugs at my tender, hurting heart.  And, I step back and realize, compassion has always made me cry.  To know and feel another's love is a very special, heart tugging experience.  A friend once told me that tears of compassion are a gift.  I had shared that I often cry when I actually do get to church, and was wondering what it meant.  She said it was a gift, a way to recognize love ... I have held onto that little conversation, and I think I have begun to understand it.  

Just as much as the absence of love can hurt; the presence of love also heals.  Self love, understanding, compassion, unexpected gestures, a hug, a knowing/understanding look - all these and more, are love.  It doesn't have to be fireworks and lightening strikes.  It can be appreciating the thoughtfulness of another, a moment of understanding, a glimpse of peace during meditation.  These are love, compassion, HOPE.  Tears of healing, of love.  Expressing themselves just as the hurt also comes out. 

And today's thought is:  'Do the best you can until you know better.  Then when you know better, do better.'  - Maya Angelou