heavy feelings, weakness, and the songs in my heart

There are some days where you just wake up with a heavy feeling. Today, for me, is one of those days. I’ve had coffee, played with the dog, hugged all the cats — but it doesn’t chase away feeling. It’s settled around me like a storm cloud, and I know it will pass. But in the mean time? It sucks.

Life can be so complicated, sometimes. Most of the time. Very few things are as simple as we like to pretend. Very few things are as easily parsed out. I think we spend most of our lives wondering what the right choice is, and if we’re doing enough. I’m not certain that there’s a right choice — or if there’s such a thing as ‘enough.’

I went to sleep, last night, relatively calm and okay. When I woke up this morning, it was in a total panic, surrounded by so many doubts and what-ifs. Guilt, confusion, concern, and feelings of conflict. I would feel much better if all I had were clouds in my coffee cup, Joni Mitchell.

I’m not a perfect person. I don’t always do the right thing. I am, at times, weaker than I should be. And I hate those moments with a passion so fierce that it’s almost enough for me to change it.

I’ve been listening to Shake It Out (sung by the Glee cast, for something different) for days. I feel like the words, as if they were torn out of my own heart. I feel like it’s a diary page, and every other cliche you can imagine. Then there’s Drive By (Train) and Sara Bareilles’s new single Stay. Each of these are important for vastly different reasons.

The truth is, whenever I get scared — a huge part of me just wants to run. It doesn’t matter what I’m running from, or if I’m not running toward anything. Flight dangles itself like water before Tantalus. A piece of lovely fruit, ripe for the tasting. An easy solution. An easy out. Except, I never do that. I never run. It’s a perfectly shiny temptation, but it’s not a solution. I may not be strong enough for some things, but I know how to stay — even if I’m shaking.

The heart of this post is a two-headed hydra. One head is, possibly obviously, my mother’s illness. There are times it slinks to the background a little bit. Then there are other times where it’s a neon sign, crossed with something out of Coraline — with button-eyes and terrible promises.

The other head, perhaps, is myself. The parts of me that scare and baffle me. There are some things that I know with absolute, unquestionable certainty. A knowing that’s so powerful and sure that it’s almost alarming. That kind of truth and understanding? It’s a rare thing. But it’s not the certainty that needs attention. It’s the questions. It’s the unknown elements.

There are other things I should be writing about. There are other things I could write more clearly about. But when I sat down at the keyboard, this is what came out. So, I’m letting it go. So, I’m putting it out there. So, I’m being vague and strange about it.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow will be better. Things will be clearer. And they’ll be a brilliant post about Once Upon a Time. We’ll talk about true love and magic. We’ll take a break from reality, just for a little bit. Just enough time to believe in the beauty of fairy tales, again.