Ok, I’ll be honest with you guys- I write these posts in advance and schedule them for future dates. I really want this blog to grow into something and consistency is important for that. So, I usually take a day and write 3-5 entries and schedule them out on alternating days. Normally, it’s fine.
Yesterday, though… Ok, honestly, yesterday, I wrote the entire Deafening Silence series. The three entries about the topic and the fourth one, which was intended to help me wind down so I could sleep. (It didn’t really work for that purpose, honestly, but what it turned into instead was fine with me.) I told you that I took breaks in between the entries, and I did, but they were measured in minutes and hours, not in days. It was a very heavy day for me.
So, after I finished writing, I ended up crying and bringing the most difficult questions to my husband. (Am I a bad person for not being the friend that my neighbor needed? Am I a bad person for not being able to mourn her death? Am I important- would people really miss me if I died?) He is a very kind man, and he answered me well. (With my depression in full-on strangle mode, it’s not reasonable to blame myself for not reaching out to others. Likewise, it’s understandable that I didn’t have energy left to feel pain when she died. And, yes, my life and death both matter.)
It’s still hard for me to weep around people- not to cry a little, I can do that just fine- but to genuinely, honestly mourn. There’s a story there, of course, but maybe that’s for another time. Yet, I am learning how to do it, and in turn, how to allow others to genuinely mourn in my presence. This is important, because without this, I cannot be the compassionate, warm person that I want to be. I need to be comfortable with my pain to be comfortable with other people’s pain.