Emotions Suck

They really do.

No, I’m not talking about the happy kind. I am talking about the kind that attack you after hearing bad news, or seeing something terrible, or… like losing your job or something. Those kinds of emotions.

They hurt. You feel like you have taken a sucker punch to the gut, and you get dropped into this strange whirlwind state where your thoughts are going so fast you actually can’t think. Sitting in the eye of a hurricane would probably be the best analogy for that moment.

The world rocks, and the only reason you are still standing is because some strange part of your mind has gone into survival mode and plays nursemaid to the rest of your completely incapacitated brain. As you sit in the center of that storm, watching in wide eyed confusion, a piece of your consciousness takes you by the hand and reminds you to breathe, to blink.

This part of your mind is the only thing keeping you from screaming for the rest of your life. This part of your mind is how you can joke a little in the following moments. It’s how you have the ability to call someone to come get you, to remember to put on your coat, and coaches you through each step you take… for I don’t know how long.

These emotions, they are hard to take. They claw at your heart, clench your throat, obliterate your normal thinking pattern.

The next day, you wake up and for a moment everything is fine. Completely normal. Then the fog of sleep lifts, and the memories of that event, that conversation come crashing onto you like a wall of broken bricks.

It’s amazing what can get accomplished by muscle memory. They happen because your body just naturally goes through the motions. You get into the living room and looking down realize that you actually managed to dress yourself. Your shoes even match.

Piece by piece thoughts start to return. Fragments, really. Floating in ever so quietly. It might be the next day, it might take significantly longer, but you start to have opinions again. Food preferences, what you want to drink, how you want your eggs.

Don’t rush it. Let your mind come out of hiding in it’s own time. You wouldn’t want to startle it further by expecting too much too fast. If you do, you might not hear from it again for weeks.

Chocolate. Chocolate is good for the soul. I personally believe that if Lonnie had not picked me up with chocolate in his hand I would still not be functional. Sure I looked decent on the outside. Carried on a couple conversations, hugged relatives, gave goodbye kisses to little ones. But that was all being controlled by the nanny brain cells. The rest of my mind was curled up in bed willing the entire experience to be a horrible, horrible nightmare. That didn’t just happen. I didn’t just get told that. Everything is going to be fine, as soon as I figure out how to wake up.

But Lonnie had chocolate. I hadn’t told my husband anything yet, but he had brought me the perfect sanity tool. Besides himself, that is.

I still haven’t let myself get a hug from him. No. No hugs yet from Lonnie. You would need a mop and bucket to clean up after me. There is too much right now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after that. Maybe.

I will have to process this. Just not right now. Please, not right now.

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