I’m in a dark place right now. It will pass, and I know that. I’m very good at focusing on that light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how dimly lit it may be. But in the meantime, I want to embrace the darkness. I don’t want to ignore it. I don’t want to deny it. I want to feel the darkness.
The short story is that my brother witnessed a freak accident that took the life of a close friend. It wasn’t a fast moving event. It was slow and painful. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Nothing.
As I talked to him, it was clear he’s having a ton of trouble comprehending what happened. And that makes perfect sense – what he experienced isn’t normal and no one should ever have to go through this. (Just as no one should have to die a slow and painful death, either.) No matter; here we are. And now I’m trying to process this from afar. I’m certainly not going through what he is, but I totally understand the hopelessness that comes from the helplessness of what occurred. Further, the empath in me certainly feels his pain.
Why won’t the tears come?
I’ve been on the verge of tears for nearly 24-hours since learning of this. Yet, somehow, the tears won’t come. I want them to come. I need them to come. But they won’t.
Over the last few years I’ve been on quite an emotional journey. I’ve grown in amazing ways that I’m truly proud of and I’ve tapped into my emotions more than ever before. I get misty-eyed pretty easily when a movie gets emotional or when I’m out with my Anjunafamily at a show and the feels just crash over me. But a good, deep, uncontrollable, cathartic cry? Those haven’t come in a long time.
Still the tears won’t come.
Frankly, this isn’t new to me, but it’s hitting me particularly hard right now because I know how much I need it. I think back to when my mom died 36-years ago (I was 12). I remember clearly the moment I was told that she passed and I didn’t shed a tear. It took about a week before I did and then the flood gates really opened.
But why? Why when it’s so clear that I want and need this cry? It makes no sense.
So here I sit writing about wanting to cry. Listening to the saddest music I know hoping to cry. Now I’m sharing this with you. Maybe when one of you reads this and reacts I will finally cry.
Either way, as I said, I know I’ll get through this. I’ll be OK when I come out the other side. But right now, I don’t want to be OK.