It has been an emotional week for me. And by "emotional" I don't mean Too-Many-Chick-Flicks-and-Not-Enough-Chocolate. I mean Blood-Red-Eyes-and-Nose-Like-A-Faucet-From-The-Crying sort of "emotional". Nothing pretty, dainty, or logical about it. It's been an all out Niagara Falls over here.
The funny thing is that for the past three years, I can count exactly two times that I wept for real. Once was back in January around when I wrote the journal entry "Spike". The other was May 28, 2004 when I had The Dream and I wrote the entry "I Wake Up Crying".
But the past seven days have brought an onslaught of emotion. So much so, that I found myself sitting in my old therapist's office today. I haven't seen her since around 2000 - or maybe even before then! It took literally about 23 seconds before the tears came...shortly followed by the blubbering, sniffing, scrunchy-face, and runny mascara.
She let me ramble for a few minutes before she said, "You're grieving."
I'm...sniff sniff...what?
"Grieving, Girl."
...which, of course, was followed by a fresh torrent of tears. Mine.
Seems that somewhere in this psyche, it's hard for me to let go of the album...and like an insane person who can't hold their drugs, I'm flipping out with misfired energy.
Then we did a really interesting exercise. She pulled out tarot-like cards, but they were actually called ANGEL cards, and after shuffling them, I laid them out in front of me so I couldn't see the faces. I selected a card that I felt drawn to. You know which card I picked?
Surrender and Release.
I was kind of shocked. Out of all those cards, I picked the one that nailed my issue right on the head.
So for the rest of the day, I've been meditating on that...meditating, that is, when I'm not hanging up the phone in anger on a rude person from the photo lab that is holding some of my negatives hostage for no apparent reason. Whatever.
Surrender. And Release, Terami.
xo
T.
