Anatomy of Breakdown

One of the hardest weeks of my life.

I have not yet lost any of my aunts or uncles. My mom and dad had huge families and they are all still living. My husband, losing his first...it is my own. I know him better than many of my own because he chose to share his life stories with me...mostly by email helping me learn to compute. (In those days, I "downloaded" everything, whether I was uploading, downloading, or simply "loading". He was patient. I never got to know him much in person because he had the strangest jokes to tell all the time, and I seldom got them, but laughed anyway. And they had a big indoor dog, and I was afraid of him.)

His sense of humor never let me get too frustrated with the learning curve of whatever I wanted to do or understand with my computer.

He made us wooden crafts. I still have a brightly colored, beautiful woodpecker doorknocker, handcarved and painted. Now that we've moved, we've not yet found a door for it. I need to find it a place. Maybe on the porch door.

I've not been able to let myself deal with it yet this week.

Today, I could not stand or sing or enjoy church at all.

I'm not mad at God. I just needed worship in my own way today, and the direction of the service did not accomodate my heart's needs. It was an agitation. But, thinking back, it was an emotional independance day skit opened my heart to feel anything. And, when I did, boy was I grumpy, and very ready to cry on somebody.

A dear friend met me on the crowded stairs and asked me how I was. "How are you?" Well, that's all it took. I collapsed on the poor girl in the middle of the stairs, blocking traffic, and didn't move for a good three minutes. She drug me down half way and at least let traffic pass. Emotional overload knows no rules. Go hide, or be real and just let it go, but it's coming.

Oh well, so much for composure. I've had to keep some semblence of composure most of the week for someone, and, to be completely honest, it felt very good to just let go for five minutes with any friend available at the moment. My tears are no respector of persons. Next time, it may be you. If you don't want to know, I suggest no asking!

I do not have it together. I am not above emotional overload. I think it's normal, even though it looks and feels abnormal and weak at the moment. I struggle with death of dear ones at times like this, even though I have the hope of heaven. I grieve. I hurt deeply. I mourn and weep in unconventional times, in unconventional ways. Whenever it's time, it's time. I get cranky when I'm getting overloaded. I stomp my feet. I ignore it and push it away when I feel it in the pit of my stomach off and on and off and on. I push it down and down and down and hope it stays until I can take it. The release feels good. I cry more, and it's easier the next time, and I'm not embarrassed anymore. And...it's okay--there's always somebody around to hug and take it. They seem to appreciate it.