Suppressin’ my Luck?

This week, after giving it some thought, I made a conscious decision to stop crying every single night. I wondered if this was also a decision to suppress my feelings. I’m not clear on that, yet. I mentioned it to my therapist last week toward the end of my session and we didn’t have time to discuss it in a lot of detail. Tomorrow’s session should be interesting and possibly very difficult.

Suppressing feelings isn’t good, but I have had it with the crushing breakdowns and I just want to enjoy my life the way I used to before all of this horrible stuff happened. Wow. It was just very easy to compartmentalize the horrors of Chris’ illness into a place simply and generically labeled “horrible stuff”. It hurt less and I could feel myself ignoring the entire event as though it never happened. I don’t care. There has to be something easier than crying and easier than popping antidepressants.

What happens when I “try” to stop crying is that anxiety takes over. Just like Archimedes’ law of displacement, where he discovered that his body mass displaced the water in his bathtub, I am now experiencing the displacement of my hopelessness with anxiety. Which is the lesser of two evils and can it possibly be true that evil is all that is left?

I sing. I run. I love my job. I love my friends. It doesn’t matter. Chris is still gone. When will the gaping hole in my soul fill back in? Will it? I don’t know how to do this? I only know that I don’t want to do this. That doesn’t matter either and it doesn’t matter that I have a whole bottle of Lorezapam in my bedroom because I don’t want to rely on it. I do like it, though.

This is never going to end. It’s never going to be over. If I don’t stop now, or sometime, on purpose, I just going to keep crying all the time, every night, every time I need a hug, every time I realize I’m alone for the long haul.

I don’t know what to do. I need a plan.

I’ll see what tomorrow brings.