All these emotions… Go away

Staying true to every other blog I have ever attempted to write, I have neglected this one for a few months. 

I am back. 

The topic of today’s post?

Grief. And feelings. Ugh, feelings. 

If you’ve read my post on the poetry thing I went to in June (hint: go read it) you will have garnered that I am not entirely psyched about the ability to “feel” things.  Unfortunately events this past year (hint: read the post on bad days) have caused me to feel a lot of things. I thought, perhaps, that I was done feeling! I had made it through hell and high water and now I am back in a fairly content state of being impervious to sadness. 

Well was I ever wrong. 

It turns out that I spent so much time in the past suppressing my feelings, I did it subconsciously this time around. My feelings of grief and sadness around losing my mother kindly hid themselves away so I could deal with horrible break-ups and emotional breakdowns. 

Now that I am in a healthy relationship, and things have settled down in every other area of my life, the loss of my mother is hitting me harder than ever. 

On her birthday a couple days ago I was a sobbing mess. Watching Miss Marple discover who killed a woman near Rutherford hall (“They do it with mirrors”) I became an emotional wreck recollecting when my mother and I enjoyed curling up in the basement to watch Miss Marple or Poirot. 

I  feel like I am treading on a thin layer of ice under which lies all of my unused tears.

I am trying something new. 

I have resolved to write more often, on this blog and in more personal venues (yes, I am trying to journal). I am attempting to exercise regularly – I am going to go on a run today! I am spending more time reading comforting books (Harry Potter) and I am even going to start reading a book on grief called Motherless Daughters. I am even going to try and seek counselling.

I feel as though I am going on an adventure into non-feeling suppressing territory and it’s scary. 

Perhaps I will be able to come through this a stronger person who is more in touch with her less desirable feelings. 

 

Wish me luck.

Feelings are scary, guys.

I had plans this evening to see my friend perform at a poetry slam. Fun right? I love listening to other peoples’ poetry, 

We wound up being early for the slam and just on time for the pre-slam work shop. Yeah. 

So suddenly, I went from quiet observing mode to having to run around saying what I had for breakfast in different tones of voice to saying random lines like “how could you lie to me” to the complete stranger in front of me in order to feel different ranges of expression. 

My comfort zone? Oh yeah apparently that stopped mattering.

Then we had to do a “free-write” which I approximated to the poetry way of saying stream of consciousness. 

Predictably, my semi-poem ended up being sad. As all the poems I write tend to be. Which is why I don’t write poems. 

As I was writing this I thought, I hope we don’t have to share this poem with anyone. It’s so personal. Then my rational side was like “no of course they won’t make you share this super personal poem with anyone.” WELL GUESS WHAT GUYS? Most poets aren’t rational, they’re all feel-y and artsy and expressive. So suddenly I was sitting knee to knee with a guy I didn’t know about to read a raw and unedited piece of semi-poetry about my deep dark feelings.

I was shaking. Like physically knees shaking so that I had to use all my mental energy to sit still. My heart felt like it was all the way up in my throat and my mouth was as dry as a desert. 

And I read it. And I had tears well up in my eyes because it was so scary. And you know what happened? He listened to my poem. Then he read his own. And then we continued on with the exercise. 

I DIDN’T DIE!

So now I feel kind of empowered. Because I expressed my feelings and came out of it okay. 

Background note: The last person I opened up to basically took my heart and threw it out of the CN tower. 

So naturally, sharing any sort of feeling that’s not happiness or anger is one of the most frightening things I can think of. 

But now I’m seriously considering getting into spoken word. Because here’s the thing… Strangers don’t have the power to hurt me like that. If I get up on a stage and share my pain with them the worst thing they can do is not snap as much for me as the person who performed before me. 

I’m feeling kind of empowered, liberated etc. And I like it.