Heart crush

Sometimes the weight of what has happened hits me like a wrecking ball. It is all I can do to not crumple to the floor and disappear. But it is good that it comes in waves because if the real impact of this horror hit me for a full day, for instance, I don’t know if I could continue to breathe. Even now, my breath is shallow and I’m having a hard time believing that my heart is even beating.

The only antidote I know is to put the kids to bed and cry it out.

How will my heart survive? How can I be a decent parent and human being and a productive, positive, progressive member of society?

I feel like nothing now. Why has this happened and what am I supposed to do with my life?

I think that this crushing heart pain opened up because a massage earlier in the day helped release it. It needs to come out. I need to feel it. If not, I think the seeds of bitterness and despair would be planted and grow like an invasive species in my soul. But that doesn’t mean that this doesn’t 110% suck.

I went to Home Depot today, kind of in an emotional daze but was feeling pretty functional in a logical sense. The guy in the paint dept asked me what was wrong. “It’ll be okay,” he said warmly.

I told him he didn’t really want to know what was wrong and that I hoped that he was right. Sometimes explaining is just too much.

I wasn’t aware how transparent my feelings are. Maybe the facade isn’t nearly as good as I was thinking it is.