I spent all day 10 seconds away from crying.
That sharp lump lingering in my throat, eyes watering but not enough to let tears fall. Deep breath, eyes closed. Hold it. Release. Move forward.
It’s weird to feel heartbreaking sadness when you’re used to Depression Sadness. With Depression Sadness you can’t put your finger on the Why. It just… IS. Your person will ask you why you’re sad and you will answer for the 100th time that you don’t know why you’re sad.
You just are.
This is hard for a lot of people in support positions to hear, especially when your support people are fixers. With Depression Sadness there is no fix. It’s just there one day and then some unpredictable number of minutes or hours or days or months later it’s gone.
I think this kind of sadness is better. I feel it and I know why. And I know that crying will help. I’ve felt Depression Sadness enough times to know that familiar calming release of endorphins and the temporary numbness that follows.
But today I wanted to feel it. So I didn’t cry.
Tomorrow will be better. Routine will start back up. I’ll let myself cry if I need to. Life will go on.
I’ll be able to remind myself that Cassidy is with family. She is loved. She is cared about. She is learning. She is back to focusing on her passion. We’ll make plans for the next time we get to be together. We’ll Facetime and she’ll tell me I’m over-dramatic and ridiculous and we’ll laugh.
But this morning she woke up in my house and now she is 187 miles away in her bed probably playing Animal Crossing and I can’t just walk into her room to loudly burp.
So today I was sad.
And that’s okay.