I’m not sure if I blocked certain memories or if I chose to deny them, but this weekend I was flooded by forgotten truths.
Yesterday morning I cried a lot… I haven’t cried like that for a long time. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have a good cry.
Last night, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror—I looked awful! I thought, “I must be coming down with something.” I had bags under my eyes… I was a mess. “I can’t be sick! I have too much to do tomorrow!”
I poured myself a glass of orange juice and decided to go to bed early.
While getting into my pajamas, I started to laugh at myself… I wasn’t sick; I was seeing the aftermath of a healthy cry. This cheered me up.
I know the cry was good for me—I felt sorry for myself and I felt sorry for others.
Now I have choices, what am I going to do with this newly remembered information?
And now I’m going to let it go…
It doesn’t change anything. I have a good life. I’m happy. And I’m also thankful to have these small moments of uncertainty…