I cried today but not enough to really wash my makeup off. I wept today a silent tear for fear that someone near may hear and think me weak when I am strong enough to cry today...
(and old ditty by me for the tough days)
For a few days now I have felt my shoulders buckling under the weight of caring for a grieving kid, the hustle, the weather, the laundry, the new darkness when I wake. The weight of myself, the past, the collective heaviness, the weight of always trying to be positive, of always being a carer whilst longing for some maternal level care myself has been overwhelming.
But something in me has shifted, for the first time I'm not playing happy music to shake it, or putting on a brave face or distracting myself. Today I am playing all the sad songs. Today I am crying. Today I am showing my son that I am human and fallible and fragile. Today I am letting it sit in me, roll through me. Today I am putting the heating on high so I can wear what feels good to feel raw in. To feel human in. To feel weak in. Today I am putting down the load and breathing out that breath I have been holding on to so tight my jaw aches. Today I am soft, I am fragile, I am me.
However, you are feeling today and however, you are managing those feelings I'm sending you love and a bit-too-tight-maybe-snotty-squeeze.