I’m crying all the time like rapids raging and flowing at a constant pace as emotions release from the depth of my core. Feelings and experiences rooted at the center of it all, ones I thought I had healed and forgiven. Evil demons I thought were vanquished long ago have taken my soul, and I’m possessed by sorrow. I have no idea who I am anymore, and that’s left me with questions that have angered me and brought me such frustration. I'm crying, but I want to pretend that I’m okay. I want to feel strong and capable, yet I feel weak and uncertain.
My heart wants to share, but then it seems silly to unleash my rapids on someone else. I desperately try to reign them back away from the shore, but they’ve already landed, and I can’t undo the flood that just occurred. I desperately want to connect in a world of “What’s that” and “I can’t hear you” comments that I’ve heard far longer than just the past few months when I slowly lost my voice. These statements years ago were said to mock me for not having words to defend myself. Remarks were made to put me in my place, so their sins didn’t come forward, and they spoke for me as if I were a dumb mute who couldn’t convey my feelings. All of these demons are whispering in, “See, you’re not capable now. You’re weak and the last one standing. What do you have to offer now?” Control is being taken out from under me, and I feel inside like a banshee releasing her call of terror and fire, but no one can hear it. I don’t like this silence.
I need support, yet I’m usually the support. I see how people look at me at times, the same way I look at myself in the mirror when I feel weak, and I can’t lean there because then I’ll drown. I want to say that I’ve got it together and that I’m singing the song of a confident and free eagle, yet I’m held here. I know I need to see it and feel it, to experience it all. I want to be okay and carry the wave protecting those around me, including myself, but it’s not my time to move the current or pretend that I’ve got it all together.
“Lean in.” The waves tell me.
It’s my time to mourn and be one with the waves. Floating, listening, and being, so my heart can bathe and communicate alongside the rapids. I’m crying, and tides rage at a constant pace.
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