by the burden of the emotion I've stored for so long. Yesterday, at work, I was so close to finding that release, to draining it all out, but the timing was poor. I began to cry, to feel the pain seep out of me, and I felt a glimmer of what it feels like to let go, a hint of the catharsis due to me. It llasted merely thirty seconds before a colleague came in and interrupted my flow. I'd hoped to revisit the feeling later in the evening but didn't get a chance, other than some interesting imagery as I fell asleep.
I imagined my body was a vessel, a container holding this warm, strong liquid, a representation of the pain and discomfort of the past fourteen years. It wasn't foul or putrid as I'd expect in wakefullness, but fragrant, thick and a translucent red. I lay on my back in my remote country creek and let it carry me downstream while this liquid slowly drained from my body into the water. I held the image and the feelings surrounding it for a minute or two until I fell asleep.
This whole moment in my life feels important. I am cleansing myself, clearing out the old, defunct emotions and making way for love and appreciation. For example, tonight I get to spend time with some wonderful people, people I adore and admire, even idolise in some respects. They are so lovely, so appreciative and honest, and I want to let that fill me up today. Last time I saw them I had such an awesome time and, again, their acceptance was obvious. It gave me a warm, wholesome glow for some time afterwards, but I'm not sure I let it in. Now, I'm creating space for that acceptance, that glow, and I'll allow it to help build me.
I need to have that outburst of emotion, whether it's tears or anger or whatever. I know that letting it drain slowly won't be a complete process because I don't work like that. I'll get distracted, or the part of me that doesn't want to let go will work to stop it happening. I crave the release, the processing of the emotion, even though facing that hurt scares me terribly.
But yes, I deserve to be free.
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