Monday, October 7, 2013

The Amazing Shrinking Penis...

                                                                     
                                            
So if you were around this Saturday you might have seen this:
 
 
 
That was me hitting the wall. So to speak. 
 
 



I've been told recently, by more than one person, that I'm brave. That's sweet. But funny. Because the last thing I feel right now is brave. I feel like a hot mess. A *flaming* hot mess who is streaking down the road toward the looney bin.

But I digress.

The bottom line is you get to a point sometimes when under pressure where you hit critical mass and I hit it. So I sort of...retracted into myself. Like a penis. Yep, I'm a writer, that's what I said. My simile is that I was an amazing shrinking penis. LOL.

I signed off and fell backwards into the craziness that is my world. Quietly. I said nothing on Twitter or Facebook or my blog. I just...was.

I took really long walks...and cried.
I baked...and cried.
I took super long showers...and cried.
I watched movies and I read and I puttered and I cleaned a lot and through most of it...I cried.
I drove girl child to Barnes and Noble and okay, on this one, I laughed so hard in the car with her I nearly...wait for it...cried.
I just was quiet in my world and I surrendered to the weight of it.

If you're ever looking for a super sedative might I recommend the long walk with crying in tandem. It turns you into a boneless zombie who is, to quote Pink Floyd, comfortably numb. Ironically, I ate a lot less. I guess because it was okay for me to just sit and stare, stunned and exhausted, at the wall. I did not have to eat a pan of brownies to help me keep on my happy/brave face.

I gave myself permission to fall apart. And boy, did I ever.

But I feel better now.

You might wonder why I'm telling you this. Am I one of those people who need to Instagram my whole life? Post updates like "ate breakfast", "ate lunch", "went pee". Nope. (Though I admit I do post stupid shit from time to time). I'm telling you this on the off chance that one, just one, person might read this who needs to. One person whose husband or wife had just been diagnosed with cancer or some equally humbling and terrifying disease. One person whose significant other had started chemo. Or radiation. Or is about to undergo surgery.

If one person reads this and thinks, I do not feel brave, I feel like I am ready for the rubber room...if that person sees this and says, oh, I'm not alone. It's okay to feel like this. They see brave, I see crumbling...

It's okay. Trust me. It will pass. It will come back. And then it will pass again. You're going to want to give up. I do most days. But don't. Keep going. Keep pressing on. Cry if you need to. Rage if it feels good. Hug that person that you love. And let him or her know how you feel. And feel it together.

Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, I'm the amazing shrinking penis.

XOXO
S

6 comments:

  1. Well then, let us be your Viagara. Wow, never thought I'd say that. :P

    Be brave, be boneless, be sad, be ... well, just be.

    Fall, and we shall catch you - and then provide you with wine and cuddles.

    X's & O's.

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    Replies
    1. You've always been my Viagra, baby ;)
      xoxo

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  2. "The hardest cock always comes from softness."

    Everyone needs to break down now and then. Just as you have to take a break and stop... creating things. So, enjoy it and know that, sooner or later, you'll be ready to face it once again.

    Hug and enjoy.

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  3. Thank you so much for this post. My husband has just been diagnosed with cancer and a friend told me about this post. I am there with you.
    Thank you.
    xxx

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    Replies
    1. Well, Sue, I only needed one and you're my one. I'm glad it was here to read, but I'm sorry to hear your news. I will keep good thoughts for you and your husband. I hope you have a great support system (IRL or even online. It makes it a tiny bit easier.) I hope you'll check back in and keep us posted. :) xoxo

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