Grief

It's interesting how grief works. It stores in your body, you know. I had read that somewhere, but I never really paid it any thought.



I barter sometimes for massages. I don't like to admit that I have fibromyalgia, I prefer to live life as if I do not. Yoga helps, living as healthy as I can, taking my supplements, and a positive attitude. But there is a cycle to it, of sorts, and every so often the pain is just crushingly overwhelming. Massage sometimes helps - 'tho' it is a double-edged sword. The massage can be excruciating, but some release and muscle relaxation does occur and then my pain level is lower.



I had a massage scheduled today. It was awful. So painful. At one point, as she was working on me, pushing down with both hands, I was overcome by an intense desire to weep, to sob. I managed to keep it in but, much to my embarassment, let out a whimper. I was just overcome by such a rush of anguish which did not dissapate during the remaining half hour. When she finished and I dressed, I was shaking, cold, anguished. And confused. I was confused why I was feeling such powerful emotions. I spent the next three hours on the couch with my heatpacks, morose, dozing. And then I got up, my muscles were less stiff and sore and I felt better. I realized then that my grief for Jake was so intense, so overwhelming that I had been storing it in my muscles. All of my muscles. My face, my arms, my feet, my back, my hands, everywhere. And some of it was released today, not by choice, but by necessity.