“I’m not nuts, I just want to feel it all” – Fiona Apple
It’s been months since I had a good, long cry. You know the kind. The sloppy, hiccup-y, hyperventilating sobfests that last a full 10 minutes, until you finally have to look at your distorted face in the mirror to stop.
I had quite a few of those types of cries in 2012. Typically, they happened during fights with the ex. Sometimes while drunk, other times sober. Once in a while, a crappy day at the office and a long walk home was all it took.
I used to hate when all the emotions bubbled to the surface so frequently. Even if I was alone, I was so embarrassed to have such little handle over my eye sockets.
Now I find it somewhat concerning that I haven’t gone past a 5 in the tear scale in months. Sure, I’ve had misty eyes in the face of poignant movie scenes and heart-to-hearts with friends. And on the last day of Bold Academy, my eyelids puffed amidst the warm embraces with that special circle of new-but-somehow-old friends.
But, seriously, where did the crocodile tears go? Am I more robot than human?
Ever since January, the same month I left my job and took the Landmark Forum, I find that my life isn’t ruled by anxiety. Truly. I can’t think of a single instance of getting sick since, whereas it used to be a monthly occurrence. Despite all the stress that usually comes with packing up your life to move to a new city, being unemployed and newly single, I’m feeling pretty darn level.
Might it be because I’m making calls for my life and decidedly committing to those calls? Is it my shift in perspective, wherein I view people and circumstances as learning opportunities instead of things I have to deal with? Is it because I’ve given up feeling sorry for myself, and instead feel so grateful for everything as it is?
Those all seem like positive things. I feel like I’m growing. Becoming more self-sufficient.
I remember at my darkest days of battling anxiety, all I wanted was to feel less. I prayed for the fear attacks, that left me feeling so powerless, to go away once and for all. Now that I finally have control over my feelings, I sort of miss feeling it all. Or, at the very least, I miss crying.
I suppose that if I have the ability to control anxiety, something that I never thought I had the power to overcome, then I must also have the ability to dive deep back into my emotions. The emotions are most certainly there, hiding somewhere under the surface. I know because I can feel the ground vibrating from their presence.
Would you give up feeling your lowest lows in exchange for a more drama-free, level mind? Is it better to feel less than to feel it all?
With courage, love, and intensity,