So much has happened in the past two days.

I’m in the process of re-forging, which means I’m extremely raw emotionally.

And so tired. Between the emotional processing, traveling, and socializing I’m not sure how I managed to survive today, though the three-ish hour nap I took I’m sure helped carry me through.

I suppose everything really started once I turned onto the street leading to my mom’s house. I’m pretty sure I’ll always think of that area as ‘home’. There are so many memories in that area.

As soon as I turned onto the parkway leading to my house I absolutely lost it. I’m not talking small quiet crying. I mean, full out sobbing, my poor cat probably thought I was dying, type of crying.

And the oddest thing is I had no idea why. I had been fine for the whole trip. I had listened to most of the Catching Fire book. I had bought a few papers for my mom along the way. I stopped for gas once, and I didn’t have a headache or anything. I was doing good. I was home.

And all of a sudden there was this uncontrollable force of emotions crashing through me and it felt like the only way they could get out of my body without killing me was through crying.

There weren’t even thoughts to go with the emotions. It wasn’t like there were conscious triggers.

I didn’t try to stop myself. I didn’t know what was going on with me, but I knew getting upset at myself for being ‘weak’ or anything of the sort wouldn’t make the situation better.

Instead I made a deal with myself. I could cry and scream and do whatever I needed to do while I was on the parkway, about 3 minutes worth of driving. But as soon as I turned into my mom’s subdivision I needed to pull it together so I could at least make it into the house.

So that’s what I did.

I felt calmer afterwards. It felt really good to cry. But I didn’t feel done. I don’t know how to explain it. I was able to pull the emotions back. It wasn’t the unstoppable force it had been in the beginning, but I knew that I had stopped too soon.

I made it inside, and was even able to unpack my car. I actually wasn’t able to cry again, which part of me was ok with. I don’t enjoy crying. It leaves me incredibly tired. And I do have an issue sometimes with feeling like I’m being weak or that I’m blowing things out of proportion, especially when I can’t figure out the reasons behind the emotions.

If there isn’t a reason, then why are you crying, sort of thing.

I ended up going running since I had been stuck in the car all day, and I had a fairly good run. The air is thinner and colder, so it was harder to breath, but I managed.

I came home, ate, and tried to keep myself busy. I started to write (I never posted it), but as I tried to write about the incident in the car I started to cry again. Not as bad, but it was making it hard to write.

My mom texted me during my writing, saying she was on her way home, which made me cry harder. How was I supposed to hold it together in front of my mom?

After a little bit I messaged her back, warning her that I was an emotional wreak at the moment, and I really didn’t know why, but that if I broke down when she walked through the door that I really was ok and just in a really weird spot right now.

She replied back saying, “You just need a mom hug : ) “

I fucking lost it. So lost it. Like was sort of scaring myself with how must I was crying. The thought of having a hug from my mom just completely undid me.

I managed to make it to the shower and stood in the hot water for what felt like forever. I couldn’t see or feel the tears on my face which made it feel ok give over to the situation. I didn’t try to hold anything back. If anything I tried to push everything out.

On the cry scale, I haven’t cried like that since Jarrett said he couldn’t trust me. When he left after that conversation and I was alone I cried so hard my chest hurt, my voice was raw, and I had a massive migraine that caused me to sleep through most of the day.

I cried and screamed into my pillow because I didn’t want to feel the hurt. I didn’t want to bottle it up. There was no way to contain all of it. I had to let it out.

So it was a pretty intense cry session.

But the emotional scale for this situation was different. When I cried for Jarrett I felt like I was dying on the inside. It felt like his words were breaking me into thousands of tiny pieces and that this time I wouldn’t be able to repair myself. I would stay broken and shattered.

In the shower though, it felt like when I was in the park last week. It felt like my chest had be lanced and that I instead of blood I was bleeding out all of the hurt, rejection, and betrayal. It felt like there should be black tar oozing from my heart chakra. That it was real and if I looked at the water I would see the blackness washing away down the drain.

But there wasn’t blackness, nothing visible anyway. Just clear water that rained down onto me. Water that washed away all of the evidence of my pain, my tears.

I hurt so much. And that even though it hurt and I wanted it to stop it felt so unbelievably good at the same time to finally, seriously, let myself lose control. I didn’t make a deal with myself to pull it together after a certain point.

I didn’t try to stay quiet so I didn’t worry anyone.

I let every emotion that wanted to surface run its course and then wash away.

Looking back at it, I think that turning onto the parkway was my cue. My mental note of safety, and because I felt safe I let go of the reigns I have been holding on to so tightly for the past year.

So much has happened, and that’s actually something my mom and I discussed.

After some time I felt recovered enough to get out of the shower. I curled up on my old bed with Scarlet until mom got home, and like I thought I cried when she hugged me. The first real hug I’ve had in months.

We talked about the feelings of isolation that I’ve felt and we both realized that I haven’t seen my family since March. Almost a year.

I know for some people that doesn’t seem like a long time. But for me it is a lifetime. It is so long, and finally realizing it makes it seem obvious as to why I’ve been struggling so much recently with feeling like I belong.

I am able to be myself 100% with my family, able to fully let go. And I think that is what happened yesterday.

The true start of my journey back to me.

I’ve been doing extremely well with picking back up my working out. I even did yoga at the airport in Chicago. They have a room specifically for yoga. It’s pretty awesome. And it made me feel good to be able to worship my goddess.

I use working out as a way to honor her, and the body she has given me. It is a gift and I should care for it and treat it as such.

I cleaned out the fridge and pantry at my apartment before I left for my trip, so when I go back to Florida I will be able to seriously begin returning to the eating habits I had before moving in with Sir.

I have been doing good for the most part, but not as well as I could be doing. And I have set myself up to return to those ways 100%. It is a good feeling.

So while I have been attending to my physical needs, and making progress in those areas, I have not really been able to allow myself to begin the emotional side of this journey.

No side is more important than the other. They are all tied together, but the journey as a whole is pointless if I ignore such a crucial aspect as my emotional wellbeing.

I need to bleed out all of the poison I have allowed into my spirit. And I think that’s a large part of what happened yesterday.

I feel cleaner. But I also feel so weak and tired. I feel like I am recovering, that I should be in bed, resting.

Instead I have been confined to two planes, trapped in a air port full of people, and then surrounded by family.

None of this on its own is a bad thing, especially the family thing. But right now I have such a strong need to be alone. Honestly, to sleep. I feel like I am mending, and the healing process is taking all of my energy, trying to sooth the rawness in my chest.

It feels like if I had just one day to myself, to rest, that I would be in a better position.

Right now everyone is asleep. And though I am tired, I felt the need to write. I doubt I will do a weekly summery, though I will most likely go back through and re-read my entries like I normally do.

I’m not sure. I suppose it will depend on what I feel is right.

I tell myself I shouldn’t worry about posting too often, that I should write when I need to, but not worrying is like trying not to breathe.

I am trying to be calm with myself, and understanding. I know what I just went through, and I know that if I had been on the outside, that I would be very gentle with that person.

So for now I suppose I should take advantage of the silence and darkness, and sleep for now. Morning will come early here, and my nephew is a morning baby I am told.

I will most likely write more tomorrow. I feel this writing was very disorganized, but it’s helped be to begin the process of untangling everything, so I suppose it’s doing it’s job.

The more I write, hopefully the more clearly I will begin to see what is going on inside.