Weepy Mess

I had a wonderful, relaxing weekend with the perfect combination of spending time with friends and family. Saturday was a day to be social; Hope and I went to my knitting group, then we trucked over to Starbucks to hangout with Inky Darcy, then off to a baby shower and then we capped off the busy day with visiting with my sister and my mom before my sister left for college. Hope was adorably sweet all day and finally lost her tooth at Inman Perk to much applause.

Sunday was a day that Hope and I spent together alone at my parents' house dog sitting, doing laundry, and lazing about. Sunday night Inky Darcy came over for a few hours. To make the weekend even more wonderful, I knitted, and read, and wrote letters, and exercised.

So why do I keep crying?

Today at work, I was sitting at my computer *tappity, tappity* working on an inane project when my throat got all tight and everything started to swim in front of me. Then and there for no reason at all I started crying huge splashing warm tears over everything. I got up from my desk and quickly walked to the employee restroom with my hair hanging in my face to hide my swollen eyes and runny nose.

I locked the door to the bathroom, sat on the floor, and cried for about 20 minutes.

Truthfully, I can't really say that it was a random cry. There are so many things bothering me right now; just under the surface, and it is taking an immense amount of energy to keep everything safe and snug under a veneer of "being okay." I should be okay. I shouldn't feel like this, but I do.

I don't even know if I could articulate what's wrong with me, and I don't know that I should. I know I can't speak it out loud, but sometimes writing helps.

Writing doesn't help as much though.

I need mom medicine.

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When I was a kid, and even during a particularly scary part of my adult life, my mom always knew the perfect way to comfort me. She would read me The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis. I would be a soppy mess and when my mom began to read me that book I would feel worlds better. Of course that was also complete with her smoothing my hair and covering me with a blanket (essential components of mom-comfort).

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I suppose that's what I need right now; I don't want to talk about it -- although I am going to force myself to post about something tomorrow. What I need is someone to read me a book and play with my hair and not ask me questions.