(no subject)
I worked to the point of physical exhaustion, sleep deprivation and becoming physically ill this weekend. Then I tried to recover in bed this morning, missing the Easter church service.
For 4 years, I couldn't cry. You could have broken both of my legs or killed someone in front of me, but I wouldn't have been able to cry even if I wanted to. But since March 17th, 2006, that rule has been broken. I often wake up, having dreamt of my grandmother, and my pillow is wet and my eyes feel tender. I've been crying in my sleep, maybe for hours on end. Maybe that's all I do when I sleep anymore. But today, I woke up and it carried over.
She lived a good life. It was her time. She's in a better place. It's all true. And even though I believe it, it's not making it any easier for me to take. And when I've been worked nearly to death, and I'm tired and alone, it overcomes me, and I can do nothing but start pouring my grief into my hands and pillow. All the while, telling myself the good things that I believe, but still won't make it stop.
For 4 years, I couldn't cry. You could have broken both of my legs or killed someone in front of me, but I wouldn't have been able to cry even if I wanted to. But since March 17th, 2006, that rule has been broken. I often wake up, having dreamt of my grandmother, and my pillow is wet and my eyes feel tender. I've been crying in my sleep, maybe for hours on end. Maybe that's all I do when I sleep anymore. But today, I woke up and it carried over.
She lived a good life. It was her time. She's in a better place. It's all true. And even though I believe it, it's not making it any easier for me to take. And when I've been worked nearly to death, and I'm tired and alone, it overcomes me, and I can do nothing but start pouring my grief into my hands and pillow. All the while, telling myself the good things that I believe, but still won't make it stop.