Always Looking For Excuses

I keep crying. I'll be driving down the road and start crying. Or take a walk and cry. Or surf the internet and cry. Or mop the floor and cry. Watch TV and cry. Organize a cabinet and cry. Pet the cat and cry. Listen to music and cry. Cry, cry, cry.

When I'm not crying I have a constant lump in my throat and I know that with just one wrong move,  I'll start crying all over again.

I hate crying. Mostly because I know that it will bring on a sinus headache from hell the next day that no painkiller can touch. But also because it seems weak. And pathetic. And pointless. It doesn't ever solve anything (and with that headache it seems to only make things worse). It doesn't seem to propel me forward in any way or give me any relief. I end up in a big, sad heap of mush wishing that I could just disappear.

I find myself excusing the tears. That song was sad. That movie was a tearjerker. That floor was really dirty. That cat was really shedding.

I do the same thing with my feelings and emotions too. Always trying to explain them away. Always trying to talk myself out of them. Always berating myself for feeling them. Always telling myself that my period must be coming or that I need to get more sleep or eat better or exercise more or BE STRONGER RACHEL.

Here's the truth though. The truth that I don't want to deal with. The truth that I don't want to be true. The truth that brings me to my knees...

My heart is broken.

It is utterly, miserably, irrevocably broken. Just...broken. Shattered. I am someone who is heartbroken.

And I don't want to be heartbroken. I want to be whole. In one piece. Strong. Above it.

I'm not.

I am heartbroken. For some of the obvious reasons that anyone who knows anything about me, knows about. (The deaths or impending deaths of many loved ones will break your heart - OBVIOUSLY.) But also for reasons that I can't discuss here. Or anywhere. That are locked inside of me and that I am alone with. Not because I want to be, but because that's my only choice. There are some things that cannot be out in the open and the isolation of them makes me feel completely hopeless and adrift.

So, I cry. And try to make excuses for all of the crying - to myself mostly. And I try to take that next breath and that next step, and hope that each time I do it, it will bring me closer to putting one piece of my heart back together at a time. I don't have a lot of confidence though. I don't think it's possible. But I'll keep breathing and walking and trying.

It's the only option there is.