When Crying is Scary and Not Crying is Impossible

I've been having a few emotional moments in the last few weeks, due to all the unpacking I'm doing. Currently, in our spare room, which will eventually be my office, I have a ridiculous amount of boxes that I'm slowly working my way through.

When we moved from our three bedroom house into a caravan we got rid of a lot of stuff. But we also hired a storage unit because there was some stuff that I just couldn't bear to get rid of. Like my four poster bed frame and my black bedroom furniture.

In the last four years, my mum and my aunt have died so some of their stuff has been passed onto me. That all got put into the storage unit with the intention of me going through it when I found the time.

It will come as no surprise to you that I never found the time.

Please consider purchasing a paid subscription, if you're able, as writing is my full-time occupation and this is how I intend to raise the funds for my retirement in a gloomy old castle, on top of a rocky cliff, somewhere in Scotland.

For $5US per month, you'll get advanced access to my serialized novel that I publish each Wednesday, a free copy of my ebook, Depression; Sucks and access to monthly zoom calls.

So, it's been fun working my way through all of these boxes as well as being a bit raw at times as well. Finding my mum's glass with the violin stem was fun, finding the last mosaic she made me was a bit raw.

You get the idea.

A couple of days ago, I had a moment that was fun and raw at the same time.

A few weeks after we'd moved into the caravan we sold a car. At the same time, I lost all of my necklaces and some other jewellery. I remembered seeing them in a bag in the car and I hadn't seen them since.

I was gutted. Losing this stuff made me feel physically sick every time I thought about it. The bag had contained some jewellery I'd bought myself, some of mum's and some of grandma's.

I'm pretty sentimental about jewellery, my husband thinks foolishly so, but to me, every piece that I lost was important to me. A small amount of it might actually be worth a bit of money but the sentimental value of all of it, is priceless.

A lot of the jewellery I'd lost, didn't feel like mine, even though it was passed down to me. I felt like I was the caretaker for it and when I lost it so carelessly, I felt guilty, stupid, and like I'd let down the women in my family.

As I said, I was gutted.

You can probably see where I'm going with this.

Yep. I opened one of the boxes in the spare room and there was all the jewellery.

All of it. In fact, I actually became overwhelmed when I was unpacking it because there was so much of it. All of it, precious. Every single piece.

It's all now on display on various stands in our bedroom because although I probably won't wear a lot of it, it's all far too pretty to be hidden away again.

I certainly shed some tears when I opened that box.

Crying can be terrifying when you live with Depression. I've had many times over the years when I've started crying (usually for no reason that I could identify) and I've been unable to stop. It's an awful place to be in. It makes you feel weak, and unable to handle your own emotions.

It's been many, many, years since I last had an episode like that, at least 10 years that I can remember. But, I still struggle to cry nowadays. Partly because I'm on medication that is designed to physically stop me from doing so and partly because I don't like to allow myself to cry.

I'm always scared I won't be able to stop.

Even though I'm well, happy, and productive, I still have that fear.

So, the last few weeks have been interesting. I've shed a lot of tears, some happy, some sad, and I've managed to stop each time. That's because the part of me that understands crying is normal is over-riding the part of me that's scared I won't be able to stop.

That understanding comes with time I guess. So, if the whole crying thing is something you’re struggling with, I promise you, you will come to peace with it and you will find your own understanding. I promise.