I am going forward.
I am not thinking less. My heart is still weighted.
But I have decided that there is nothing wrong with carrying a lot in your heart. It is not always pleasant, actually, it hurts a lot usually. But there is nothing wrong with it. I won't let myself feel bad for feeling.
So, I'm moving forward.
I'm not sure yet where I'm headed. Toward something more, something better, I hope.
I will keep writing. I will keep reminding myself to just stop, to just breathe. I surely will keep remembering that there is fog, there is darkness. But I know better than to sit around in that. I know better than to let that burrow it's way in.
So, I'll keep walking.
The past is there, it doesn't just cease to exist because I chose to have a more positive outlook. If there is anything to remind me of that, it is the weight in my chest. But all I have to do is look up, and there is something... a future waiting for me over there.
I'll take it.
Heavy Hearted
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Marvelous. Magnificent. Great. Superb. Stupendous. Fabulous. Glittery. Good.
They have all been pretty relative lately. I can't put my finger on it... on this, this thing that is sitting on my heart. It doesn't always hurt. It doesn't make me feel like I'm drowning, not usually. But it doesn't feel right. It's pressure.
It's a heavy heart.
And I think sometimes it has to do with the time of year. Sometimes, I think it's school work, or maybe the weather. But maybe those are just excuses. Because I'm really not sure.
So, the fog that comes with this heavy heart, it spreads. Whoa girl, does it spread.
I feel it here, where I can't seem to write a single sentence without deleting it at least twice. I feel it in the way that I am suddenly certain my jeans are snugger. I feel it when I look in the mirror at those dark circles growing under my eyes. And I am feeling it the sort of passive numbness that surfaces every time I even think about school work.
I'm not sure what it is. I'm not sure when it is going to pass. But I know it will. All fog lifts at some point.
This weekend I visited with some of my favorite kids. They are crazy, and smart, and a giant pain, and lovable, and the perfect set of brothers and sisters.
In the midst of washing a sink full of dishes, keeping one from driving another crazy, and keeping a few more entertained, I found myself in the kitchen, singing along with the little girl that is suddenly not so little, to songs from Tangled. And it was perfect. It was perfect in that, my brain was swimming, with the world outside of my head. I was perfectly engaged, and dishes were getting done, and no one was crying, and we were singing, and there was no fog. None.
It's foggy again tonight. There is visibility. I'm finding that, no matter how many times my head starts to tell me otherwise, the sun will show it's face again. And things will clear up. And it will, well it will at least look like things are working out.
I don't know where I'm going, not with this, not with anything really. I do know though, that as directionless as I get, there will be a path, and it will lead me out of whatever terrible metaphorical weather system I've found myself in. Heavy heart and all.
They have all been pretty relative lately. I can't put my finger on it... on this, this thing that is sitting on my heart. It doesn't always hurt. It doesn't make me feel like I'm drowning, not usually. But it doesn't feel right. It's pressure.
It's a heavy heart.
And I think sometimes it has to do with the time of year. Sometimes, I think it's school work, or maybe the weather. But maybe those are just excuses. Because I'm really not sure.
So, the fog that comes with this heavy heart, it spreads. Whoa girl, does it spread.
I feel it here, where I can't seem to write a single sentence without deleting it at least twice. I feel it in the way that I am suddenly certain my jeans are snugger. I feel it when I look in the mirror at those dark circles growing under my eyes. And I am feeling it the sort of passive numbness that surfaces every time I even think about school work.
I'm not sure what it is. I'm not sure when it is going to pass. But I know it will. All fog lifts at some point.
This weekend I visited with some of my favorite kids. They are crazy, and smart, and a giant pain, and lovable, and the perfect set of brothers and sisters.
In the midst of washing a sink full of dishes, keeping one from driving another crazy, and keeping a few more entertained, I found myself in the kitchen, singing along with the little girl that is suddenly not so little, to songs from Tangled. And it was perfect. It was perfect in that, my brain was swimming, with the world outside of my head. I was perfectly engaged, and dishes were getting done, and no one was crying, and we were singing, and there was no fog. None.
It's foggy again tonight. There is visibility. I'm finding that, no matter how many times my head starts to tell me otherwise, the sun will show it's face again. And things will clear up. And it will, well it will at least look like things are working out.
I don't know where I'm going, not with this, not with anything really. I do know though, that as directionless as I get, there will be a path, and it will lead me out of whatever terrible metaphorical weather system I've found myself in. Heavy heart and all.
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