An Act of Self Care: Sometimes You Need A Good Cry

A Good Cry - The Calm Collective

Yesterday was rough. It was one of those that didn’t feel quite right the moment that you woke up. Despite your best effort to shake it off and make the best of it, to try and spin it in the direction you’d prefer it to go – sometimes, well.. sometimes life just plain old kicks your ass.

I was woken up far too early by a little blonde fluffy thing we will call Jasper, desperate to play in the wee-early hours of the morning before my mandatory cup of coffee.  I tossed and turned for a bit, trying my best to snuggle the little monster guy and convince him that this is where it was at. This is the good stuff.  Of course to no avail. Jasper wins again!

I stumbled to the entry way and blindly looked for his leash, I got him outside only for him to act like someone had given him speed. Literally – he was bouncing off of the walls.  I am not coordinated in the morning before I’m ready to wake up, so you can imagine my dismay and disapproval while all of this is happening. Feeling completely defeated, and it’s not even 8am.  Jasper, sometimes, you kill your mama.

Then perspective hits. You know? You’re having a not-so-great morning, and just when you think that’s the biggest problem in the world (yes, even someone who has an ill parent can lose sight of perspective once in a while) – you get a phone call from your mother in need of your help.  With a giant to-do list sitting in front of me, I hear my mom on the other line telling me that she has seriously hurt her back – never before going through this, it was foreign to her, and she needed help. My dad not able to drive at the moment due to some double vision was disheartened at the fact that he wouldn’t be able to lend a hand to her, so I jumped in my car, dropped Jasper off at daycare, and headed to my mom to get her to the doctor.  It was one of those days. Where nothing but worry is on your mind.  She’s a firecracker, and I knew she would come out on top of this (which she did – already feeling better this morning!) – but this wasn’t the only thing clouding my mind.

My dad, who as you all know is just insanely strong, keeps hitting this point of being in limbo.  I really don’t know how else to explain it. One second it feels like we’re getting good news that the treatment is maintaining the cancer cells, followed by some horrible side effects that can’t really be explained.  They go beyond what the chemotherapy should be giving him, which has the doctors scratching their heads. Which, you guessed it.. puts us in limbo. We’re getting possible reasoning for why he feels this way: “it could be something going on in your spine,” and “your blood count is low – you’ll need a couple of blood transfusions.” Oh, and possibly a spinal tap.”   The minute you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel, it gets gray.  And as much as I hate it for me, my mom, my sisters, I hate it for him. I hate it so much that sometimes, I can feel myself clinching my jaw until I’ve got a headache.   Now I know I’m sounding a little negative over here in this corner of the internet, and I do apologize- it’s not my goal. And dad, if and when you read this, this is not that I think that you can’t handle these diagnoses or that they will ever come out on top – you know my theory on this, Superman ;)  it’s just that… sometimes you just have to have yourself a good cry.  And yesterday was one of those days for me.

As I sat in the car on the way to get my mom, I felt this intense feeling of overwhelming sadness and confusion. Frustration, too.  And as the tears ran down my face, I almost forgot what they felt like – tasted like when they stream down to your mouth. It was then that I realized I hadn’t cried in what seemed like months.  As silly as it all sounds, it felt so good – it felt kind of like a release. A release I wasn’t able to let go of in fear of sounding weak or trying to keep everything together.  Denial is a beast. It can consume you and break your tear-ducts. Stop them from working entirely. But yesterday, in addition to a few other stressors of course, my tears were in full affect. Trent, my best friend Molly and my sister – my three rocks, they led me through the gray of the tunnel and brought me back to my own little piece of light. The piece of light that reminds me that even through all of these struggles, these challenges, they make up who I am.  They are the reason I can handle almost anything these days while still staying true to my core. I’m resilient yet affected. I’m tough, yet gentle. I’m realistic, yet hopeful. 

Every piece of bad news mixed with good, every dark tunnel with the tiniest ray of light poking through, every few steps forward you take shuffled with a few steps back… all of these things mixed together, all of these opportunities that you’re faced with to take your life head on – is what makes us who we are.  And take it from me when I say, you’re allowed to have your bad days. You’re allowed to have a good cry. It feels pretty damn good.


1 Comment

  1. August 21, 2013 / 10:21 AM

    seriously one of the strongest people i’ve ever met. keep rockin’ yo life, cass. love you.

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