Not To Be A Sob-Fest

It is so easy to fall apart… It needs just letting go, letting the unsteady emotions in your mind take control. And unsteady emotions do not have a direction. They do not know when to halt, or how to take care of the problem.

But they’re so tempting, so heady, so easy to give control to.

I’d visited home last week, spent nearly a couple weeks with my parents and sister; just the four of us as we used to when we were small. Being pampered, shopping without spending, endless hours of gossip with my mum and sister, driving around with my pa.

And when the two weeks’ vacation was over, and it was time to return home, I was so desperate. I tried not to cry because it would break my parents’ hearts, and I tried to joke around to make my sister smile. But at the airport when I hugged my sister, I did not know when I would see her again. I’d seen her last week after two-and-a-half years!

Can you imagine not meeting your support for nearly three years? She’s only a couple years older than me, but so much more like a third parent. Wise, smart, and very caring. She’s the one I go to when I fight with my mum, or don't know how to take a decision, or even if I'm just upset in general. She’s the lifeline to my very stem of life..!

That plane ride was the worst I’ve ever had, and believe me, I’ve flown to places where I’ve been completely alone before! I didn’t cry because I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to be strong, and not collapse. I couldn’t call back home because my flight landed at my transit point at dawn, and I didn’t want to wake them up.

The worst part was the claustrophobia. The cloying tension in the chest, which brings on panic and breathlessness. I struggled in the plane because I couldn’t breathe, and I was alone, and I couldn’t even stand (the plane was landing and the seatbelt sign was on)!

Back with my husband, I thought crying would release the tension, and so I cried. But it just made it worse. Now I couldn’t talk to my mum or pa without crying on the phone, I well-up at the worst of times, and my husband is stressed out completely.

I know it’s pretty mean of me, I mean, how would I feel if my perfectly normal husband traveled home, leaving me alone for two weeks, and came back to me a sob-fest, constantly missing his parents and sister, no matter how hard I tried to cheer him up?

My Hub-man is one of the best ever, and he’s been very understanding, but he too has a limit, and I don’t want to cross it.

And I don’t want to let this claustrophobia take over my life. I fear getting back on that plane right now, and half the time I feel choked and struggling to draw breath; I don’t feel hungry, and I can’t swallow if I try to eat.

My mum’s suggestion seems to be working, which is to keep chanting that I’m fine. To not let my mind accept that I’m feeling claustrophobic, and to focus from my toes to my head that I’m fine and free.

And part of it is to look at the now and the future; don’t let the past hurt you, the good or the bad. It’s hard, yes, because it’s like learning to live all over again, but that’s life.

I chose this life. This IS my life. And this is where I have to be happy.
This is where I will be happy.