Thursday, March 17, 2011

Can't Even Cry

I'm lost. I think I'm looking though. No I know I am. Something's going on. I want to cry. But I can't. I actually almost did a few minutes ago.

My alarm goes off at 5 every morning. I wake up at 4:45 a.m. My body, my mind, is telling me to get the hell out of bed. I've been fighting and fighting and fighting. I got pretty low but I think the changing that is happening in me is stronger then the resistance. Finally.

I want to cry. I want to write. I do. I've been reading some incredibly honest, put-it-out-all-out-there bloggers lately and I kind of make myself sick for just bullshitting and doing this half-ass.

A lot is happening.

Sometimes, most of the time, I worry to much about what you will say or think. Especially if I know you.

I miss people and I feel so stuck. This can't possibly be my life. I can't possibly live here. I had the conversation with my husband where we said the words to each other "do you want to be here?" "do you want to stay?" "do you want this to last?"

So I get up at 5:00 to do yoga and meditate. This morning I get to the mat and I feel lost. I know what to do but I don't know what to do. I spend most of my time in child's pose. I keep coming back to it. I want to cry but I can't. I saw some of my yoga friends Sunday night and I felt them slipping away. Maybe not slipping away. I felt the time that had passed between graduation and Sunday. The month that had passed, the places we had been without each other. The people we had seen, the things we had done. I don't know. Maybe that's just my usual shutting down, pulling away, giving up.

They are so far away -- 90 minutes. I am so here. With my job, my kids, my marriage, my house. I can't get to them. Every time I talk to them something comes up that reminds me where I am.

So I spend most of my time in child's pose. Finally, I start to cry. But just the beginning, no tears come. I start to let go. I'm holding on so tight to this stuff, whatever it is. But for just a second, just a moment, I start to let go.

Yesterday after meditation in the morning, I laid down, in a fetal position, and I felt a little safe and a little warm. And I guess that's the beginning. I guess that's what I'm coming to this mat for. To go deeper and deeper and deeper and pull all that shit out and look at it and let it go and move on. I don't know how and I know how. I'm lost and I'm found. I'm beautiful and about as fucking ugly as can be.  I'm a little bit dead and completely alive.

11 comments:

Magpie said...

stuck. i know what you mean. i've been using that word a lot recently.

this too shall pass?

the sandwich life said...

thinking of you....

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

I'm saying a prayer for you today.

Rupa said...

Thank you for expressing so beautifully what we've all felt or are feeling. Sending love.

sherilee said...

Been where you are, and wishing you lots of peace and love to get you through to the other side. If you haven't ever read Pema Chodron, check out her book Dealing With Uncertainty. Was a real catalyst for me in sitting with my pain rather than fighting it...

That last paragraph--wow.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

I hope the path becomes clear at some point.

Rebecca said...

Thinking of you. It's so hard to get through these times but you can do it...with help or by yourself, I'm not sure...but you will come out of the sadness and find what you need to be whole again.

flutter said...

the Buddhists would say Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. Maybe you should, too

JCK said...

This is an incredibly honest post. Don't put other bloggers on a pedestal for brutal honesty, you are doing that here.

It is hard that pieces...when people you know read your blog. But, you are really reaching out here, and I hope that you feel some reciprocation of kindness back.

Thank you for sharing yourself. Being lost sometimes has to happen, so that we can find our new Island - whatever that is.

Christy said...

I don't know what to say, except I'm so, so sorry, and thinking of you and sending you hugs.

Karen said...

We are your witnesses...you're in this emotional place, and eventually you will move through it and out it. And in the meantime, you are thought of--held in warm, healing, loving white light...