January 6, 2009 at 11:47 am 1 comment

Sunday I cried. I cried long and hard – a constant stream of anguish and sobs from mid afternoon to late in the night. There was no finite, single reason. No instance of tragedy or disappointment. Just an overwhelming sense of sad that would not  dissipate no matter how many tears I shed.

By the fourth hour, whilst questioning why the cloud wouldn’t lift, I considered my mental health and cut myself some slack.

The past few weeks have been tiring, to say the least. They say that moving house and starting new jobs are highly traumatic events for people. I have done just that – and more.

It wasn’t just a case of moving house – I moved interstate. The complexity of my rental leases, negotiating interstate removalists, schooling differences, fears associated with returning to family and familiarity, sadness at leaving behind new friendships and qualities of peace, turmoils over feeling selfish and creating turmoil for those I love…

Likewise, it wasn’t a simple case of beginning a new, better job. I was leaving a fairly traumatic one – one that drained me to my core, made me question why I bother, and generated more than its share of frustration, anguish, and headaches. And my new workplace was untested waters, a new position with increased responsibilities for less income.

On top of all of this, the everyday stresses of finances, relationships, children, expectations… they were all there and escalated by my fatigue, stress and urgency.

So that Sunday, 3pm, a switch was flicked and the anguish and stress I’d be repressing down, welled up and trickled at first. Left to my own devices, the trickle quickly became a stream, the stream a river; until I lay there sobbing into my pillow and his arms, nonchalant to the heaving of my cries or the soaked material.

Finally, late into the night, the tears stopped, and a temporary calm prevailed.  I slept soundly, deeply, and in the morning I started my new job.


Entry filed under: Reflections.

OCD, yeah you know me He who makes me smile

1 Comment Add your own

  • 1. Adam  |  January 14, 2009 at 8:18 pm

    That kind of release of emotion is absent from us fellas. Some say it’s trained out of us as boys- that we aren’t supposed to cry. I’m not so sure- I just think we deal with it differently. But I hope the changes you made are all you hope they’ll be- seems you deserve a bit of traction after what seems to be a significant amount of slipping and sliding.


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