Sadness Moving On

After my visit with the Great Uncle G yesterday, I really felt like I could get back on top of things.  I even went out in the evening and had dinner with mom and the Big Dawg.  I had a good time, the food was excellent, the company even better.  I came home, did a little Internet chatting, watched two episodes of “Scandal” and then went to bed.  At that point, I was still feeling very positive.

I had a good night’s sleep last night so I woke up thinking today would be pretty good.  I came out to my computer, where I always go to wake up.  Drank a glass of water, took morning meds, petted the Kizz Wizz.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  I checked my email, no big surprises there.  I checked my comments from yesterday and also checked on responses to posts I commented on yesterday.  It was an ordinary morning, just like any morning.  I could have been getting ready to go to work for as fine as I felt.

And then I opened FB.  Right there on my home feed, was a very large photo of my old English teacher from middle school, along with words underneath indicating her life accomplishments.  Because, well, she had died.

You know, I knew that yesterday and I pretty much blocked it out.  I was feeling too good to let it get to me, but today, vulnerable from just waking up, it was too much.  I scanned more of FB and it was just more drama, more hate, more kids sick with cancer, soldiers wounded in action and suffering, people hurting other people.  Why do people post shit like that?  What does it really accomplish?

So I shut FB off.  I was kinda trying to hang around to catch a friend of mine, but I couldn’t take it anymore.  I just hung my head and cried.  Cried like a big baby, because the world isn’t fair, people aren’t fair OR nice, and there is a website that just wraps all of that up into one package and drops it on your doorstep.  What is the fucking point of that?

And then a song comes on my Pandora that takes me back to that time in middle school, when I was a student of the teacher who had passed away.  She was an English teacher.  She was so patient with me.  She believed in me, praised me for my writing.  More tears.  Just hanging my head and crying.

I guess it’s going to be a crying kind of day, because I cried while I looked at pictures of my nephew, cried when I think back to the screwed up DSB situation, cried when I thought about how I haven’t been a very good therapy participant because I haven’t sent diary cards in two days, cried because my medication was wrong for so long, just cried, cried, cried.

My instinct is to go back to bed, try and start this day over.  Before all of this silly and random crying started, I had things I wanted to do today.  Things I need to do today.  And I do still need to do those things.  And I really am ok.  Just overly emotional today.

Tears don’t mean something is broken.  Tears are just sadness and sometimes joy, spilling over.  You don’t need to worry that I am crying or that today hasn’t been a very good day so far.  This is just another day in the life of the Rosa, and, as always, it does get better.

tears