Letting go

Today was one of those days….succumbed to tears in my room.

I laid in bed tonight sobbing. Body shaking, catch your breath kind of crying. I felt it coming for the most part of the day; even had a glimpse of it as I spoke to my dear friend on the phone in the afternoon. I called her to hear her say that I’m not a lunatic. Sometimes you just need some reassurance. I wanted her to tell me that I’m not crazy and that in my shoes she would do and feel the same. A few sobs escaped, just enough for me to feel a little better.

I’m angry. Crabby. Sad. You name it.  Upset about things that happened weeks and months ago. They’re all boiling up inside of me. Our four-year old had hand, foot, and mouth and then yesterday pink eye. COME ON!? I know we aren’t immune but sometimes I feel that we have so much on our daily plate that one more thing might shatter it. I carry so much and I know I need to let some things go. I’m still stewing on a loved one’s suggestion of a part-time job and another saying it’s “no big deal” if our little guy never walks. These things have been tucked away in my memory and I’ve never let them go. In fact, I revisit them often.

I could feel each one of these hurts working their way up inside of me today until they were in my throat. As I was laying in bed I could feel my throat filling with each and every sting until I couldn’t keep them down any longer. I finally let go. I’m letting them all go. Tears kept coming as I tried to catch my breath. My husband rubbed my back as I wiped the tears from my face. He reassured me that I’m exactly where our family needs me and to stop worrying so much. We apologized for letting our anger get the best of us. We sat in silence just being there for each other. I can’t control how others react or view our life, I can only change the way I deal with it. From now on I’m going to let go.

I sobbed. It’s hard. Harder than anything I have ever done before. It’s hard to pretend that everything is ok when you’re barely balancing your overflowing plate with what seems like no light at the end of the tunnel. Our goals come in the form of a year with more goals after that, and more after that. Marathon, not a sprint. Deep. Breath. I won’t be able to finish the marathon holding on to all of it, so I’m letting it all go.

Your turn. Take a deep breath. What do you have tucked inside of you? Breathe deep and let it go.