Those who know me, know that I don’t cry tears easily or often. I feel like it many many times, but crying is hard for me. Makes me feel vulnerable, guilty, weak. A legacy I suppose from being told over and over, as a child and young woman, that crying is, wrong, pathetic and means you are ‘stupid’, words of my ‘mother’ if I dared show tears. So, no I don’t cry.I need to often, have needed to so much in the past years, and I know I should, because the work I have done for over 20 years, has shown me,how holding onto tears, holding on to anger, grief etc. can cause all kinds of problems both emotionally, psychologically and physically. So cry I should.
Having said all of this, a few years ago I was hurting so much that my poor David held me over and over while I sobbed and sobbed. He was so concerned as crying was something he had never witnessed in me.Life at that time was so painful, so hard and the tears never stopped. On returning to Hampshire I ‘went there again’ and would sob myself to sleep. Before David came to bed. In secret. That is no way to let the tears out. No one to hold me no one to comfort me but my choice. Letting my guard down made me go back to never shedding tears, never crying, something I had always been ‘good’ at.
Yesterday, I was so close to tears that the person in the room with me, tried hard to allow me, encourage me to let go. To let the tears flow but I was afraid that if I did I would never stop.So Carol Ann the ‘strong’ rushed in to save the day and changed the subject.
But today, talking to my youngest daughter I was made to realise that tears are okay. That needing someone to talk to is okay. So from today, when I feel the tears coming, I will try my very best to let them go. It will be hard but if I try really hard and talk to myself the way I spoke to many clients, maybe, just maybe, I will cry.
Many will remember how much I loved our old home, how leaving was so very hard for both of us.I miss everything about living in Wales, living on our ‘farm’. The three of us, then becoming 4.The ponies, ducks, geese. The land and the huge open skies. The fresh air and the silence. Oh how I miss the silence.
You may have read earlier blogs and know the reason why we left but if you haven’t, there were so many reasons, some I can put on here and some I won’t.
The house was too big for 2 of us and after losing our last ponies and our dogs, we didn’t need the land. We could have stayed and had someone in to tend everything but that would have upset David, I know, so we sold up. On encouragement from our eldest daughter we came back to Hampshire, where we are both from, to be close to family, grandchildren etc. But that didn’t work out, courtesy of the lies, promises and dishonesty of my daughter, leaving us once again, on our own.
Oh how I needed to cry then. The hurt, the betrayal, the loss but I didn’t. I held onto all of it. I was already consumed with unresolved grief from people and animals, our way of life, the familiarity of Wales and thought if I let go and cried, the oceans of tears would overcome me and I would be lost. So I held on and became angry. Anger being Sad’s bodyguard.
My heart has been broken so many times over the years, by people I would never have believed would or could hurt me. I have lost a beloved brother, 2 close friends and more animals than I have room to mention here.
The first months of being here I was rendered unwell and now suffer from FND and Post Viral Fatigue, both of which have knocked the stuffing out of me. All the pain and hurt left me feeling a shell of the person I was. Lost and empty.I was so close to a complete mental breakdown and only just held on with the help, love and support of David.
I need to cry for the woman I was. Carol Ann . Her capabilities, both physically and mentally because I can’t find her anywhere.
Moving from everything we loved and knew took away my safety, my familiarity, my future. Everything I treasured and needed. So today, I need to cry for me.
But most of all, I find myself becoming tearful everytime I watch the News. the wars, the famine, fires and floods, earthquakes etc. etc. Man’s inhumanity to man. The cruelty inflicted on innocent animals. I could go on. I don’t watch the late news anymore because it stops me sleeping.
I see animals so badly treated that it doesn’t bear thinking about. I see animals thrown out for no reason at all and Rescue centres literally picking up the pieces and it makes me ashamed to be human. We are supposedly the superior race. That’s a joke!
So firstly I will begin with crying for my losses and trying hard to move forward. Not forgetting because I can’t do that. Forgiving? Not even sure about that . But move forward I must.
But I will begin with letting the tears flow for humanity. For this wonderful world we seem intent on destroying. Tears for my children’s children and worry about the kind of world they will inherit.
I have always said, to friends, family, my children, that crying is healing. Somewhere down the very long rough line, I have forgotten how to do this. But learn I must. To save myself from even more illness brought on by unresolved grief.
Watch this space!
Thank you for reading. x
This past week has been hard and emotional. Lots of memories been stirred. Lots of heartache revisited. Sunday was my eldest sister’s birthday. I would normally have rung Georgina, sent flowers and chocolates. I can hear her now, ‘Oh, they are nice but you shouldn’t have done that’. Never one to make a fuss, about anything really. She was a very straight person, said it as it was, appreciated the truth and knew that she would always have that from me.We chatted often and she would never take sides and I never expected her to. She never complained about her illness or anything . She bore it all in a very stoical manner. But no longer. Two years ago, she lost her fight against cancer. She had the disease 20 years ago and we all thought it had gone for good. But sadly it came back, in her liver and she didn’t stand a chance.
carolannwright 