Tag Archives: crying

The crazy hours

23 Apr


I love coming home from work in the evenings. I love kicking my shoes off, putting on pyjamas, microwaving a kids’ meal, and spending quality time with my TV.

I look forward to it all day.

And yet, these are my crazy hours.

Because when everything else stops, the bit of my brain obsessed with the ex and my absolute terror re being alone forever wakes up.

And taunts me.

So every night I go to bed and find my pillow soaked from tears as I’m falling asleep. But when I wake up in the morning I don’t want to go to work at get all busy and distracted. I want to lie in my bed. It’s so comfy. Mmmm.

I go to work, and count the hours until I can go home and relax. Yet it’s not unusual for me to get home, put my key in the door, and start crying before I even get into the building.

I don’t have a point tonight or even a message.

I think I’m just a bit nuts.

But it’s been a hell of a nine months.

Aren’t I entitled to be crazy?

Crying over you

25 Mar


I still cry every day.

Last night I sobbed. A lot. Over nothing in particular.

But things are getting easier, because it’s all relative, I guess. A few months ago I was still breaking down in the most random of places – supermarkets, the bus, the gym, Starbucks. I use to sit in the cinema after movies ended and just cry while everyone else left. Then shuffle off home to cry in my bed.

It felt like I was suffocating. It was hot, impulsive, explosive crying. It overtook me. Sometimes I couldn’t stand. I usually couldn’t speak. It left me exhausted.

I remember sitting on Siesta Key in Florida (officially the Number One Beach in the US) on a glorious sunny day with heavy, blobby tears running down my face.

Clearly, wearing mascara was just not an option.

These days when I cry, it’s pointed. It’s acute. Things jab at me and bring very sudden, very sharp pain. Things like seeing another friend announce the arrival of a baby on Facebook. Or seeing someone act like an asshole on Millionaire Matchmaker. Or asking myself whether I can really see me ever meeting anyone (and deciding that no, I just can’t).

Things that would never have made me cry eight months ago.

Because eight months ago I had him.

The past two mornings I’ve woken up feeling deeply, deeply sad, and it’s taken me a minute or two to realise it’s from dreaming about him.

I talk myself around in circles of logic. And tell myself off for thinking about him at all.

I hate myself for it.

But I miss him so much.

Surely I am running out of tears

13 Oct

Funny the things that can set you off in the heightened emotional state of a break up.

I’ve been very tired and very stressed with work for the past week. It seems to have made me take a massive two leaps backwards into painfulness.

Today, whilst shopping for a toothbrush, I had to walk into a corner and release a little screaming noise. This – I have learned from pilates – is something to do with stress release. It does also make me look like a mentalist, however.

Later, when I got home, I was searching for my electrical adaptor thingie to take to Boston tomorrow. Of course, the last time I had it was in New York. With him. Unable to locate it under my bed (where I keep most things), I completely broke down. I full-on lost it on my bedroom floor. I’m not even going to call it crying. That sounds too elegant. I was wailing. Unattractive.

I found the adaptor thingie about two hours later in the fruit bowl in my kitchen.

Which didn’t even strike me as odd.