Emotional Rescuers

This is not a depressing post. In fact, it’s about an awakening, an emotional rescue by both predictable and highly unpredictable influences.

I do not cry. I have rarely cried. I cry only when I am absolutely furious and frustrated or injured by surprise, like when you crunch a toe on a concrete step or bang your finger with a hammer, no amount of swearing eases the pain, but a good cry does the trick. I might cry whilst listening to emotional music. Oddly enough bagpipes and Elton John’s Circle of Life bring a lump to the throat – go figure? In fact anything to do with emotions rarely makes me tear up.

I feel a little emotional these days. It’s a combination of my place in the world at the moment, separation anxiety, work, age, insecurity, loneliness, financial woes and frustration with my lifestyle – all of which come into play at different times - but something’s happened recently. It could have been Thommo's epiphany talk. She told me to bite the bullet, face the family and sell the property for sanity’s sake. She told me I need to get a life, get out more and to acquire the will and the means to do the things I want to do. But her overwhelming concern and finally actually having the nerve to ‘tell’ me did move me to tears and definitely had an emotional effect. As do her ‘seven second hugs’ (they always make me feel better but still make me cry).

ClareBear’s ‘stop worrying and being so unselfish' talk also hit home. I'd never really thought of myself as being unselfish. I’ve been hanging in, raising and caring, feeding and tidying and worrying about others when I could walk away with enough money to be debt free. This might not solve all my problems but it takes the biggest out of contention. I’ll have money to visit ClareBear during her gap year overseas in 2008 (the thought of 12 months without seeing my daughter is overwhelming). . . money to buy DrummerBoy a new kit and having the ability to throw him a 21st Birthday Party and discharge both their HECS debt and set them up quite nicely for the future - it's all within my grasp. Finally, money to take the holiday that I’ve had planned in my head for so long – Eastern USA, Canada, England, Paris and Santoring and the possibility of visiting the owners of some of the voices I have come to know so well through podcasts. Money to regularly visit Stan and the InstaFamily in New Zealand who always seem so close and yet so far.

Yep, now I am an emotional being but in a good way. I read an email about someone’s emotional state, family sadness or heartfelt issues and I’m sitting here with tears welling up with both empathy and a gladness that they’ve chosen to confide in little old, unimportant me. I read a blog that moves me and I’m overflowing with empathy. I hug my best friend or my children and am overcome with the emotion of it all. I even pat my dog on occasion and just think what a fabulous creature she is and how much happiness she brings simply by doing nothing. I tickle my son (too cool for cuddles) and we swap silly names . . .but even that makes me well with pride and love.

It has clicked. It’s not me falling apart, it’s simply that I have learned to relax about the emotional me. I have been able to talk openly, write openly, express myself truly openly for the first time in a very long time, thanks to Thommo and Clare and in no small part to two people I have never met . . . I have started to feel ‘in touch’ with my soul. I don’t care if I cry at the drop of a hat. It’s a good cry, it’s a caring cry, it’s a cry from the heart that lets me know I can feel again.

I’ve been on comfortably numb 'pause' for so long, waiting for the kids to finish Uni, waiting for the block to be sold, waiting for early retirement, waiting for Mr Goodbar, you name it, I’ve been a lady in waiting for nearly 10 years now and I’ve realised that I’ve had enough. The numbness that has enveloped me over this past decade is slowly melting away. I’m feeling alive, conscious, concerned, happy, ambitious, sad . . . the bottom line, is I am feeling.

The work done by my fleshy friends has been consolidated by two bloggy and email pals who whilst worlds and years apart, have touched my heartstrings, shared some very private thoughts and befriended me in a way that I find surprising, flattering and wonderful. I’ve learned as much from their resilience as from their frailty.

So to you contributors of my emotional well-being . . . you all know who you are . . . thank you for coming to my emotional rescue.