Chasing Down My Demons
It's the morning after. I probably would have ended up in the ER if I'd have felt that way without the irreverent tears. Literal pain in my chest. Nausea. Head pain. My arm hurt from the way my other arm was clinging to it. Shall I also mention the extraordinary amount of blood vessels that I probably popped in my eyeballs, or face? Nah. No need. It was an emotional disaster. And now I face the aftermath.
When I woke out of sleep this morning at the ungodly hour of 645 and commenced to weeping uncontrollably for another hour or so, I decided to wave the white flag of surrender on any further attempts at sleep and just get out of bed. I also decided that since my heart was still in extraordinary pain, why not get up and punish the rest of me too? I strapped on my runnin' shoes and decided to begin chasing my demons down.
So off I went. And cranked up the Robbie Seay Band in hopes of drowning out the voices in my head. I talked to God while I ran. Asked him why the different answers. He just told me again to wait for things to wash out. I hate waiting. And I hate that I feel like this.
At one point, I made myself chuckle though, because I know there's going to come an endless stream of "How Are You Doing?"'s from people who really care. And honestly, I don't want to answer them. Mostly because if I say "fine" they'll know i'm lying (cuz I can't lie worth anything) and if I say "horrible" I'll have more questions to answer and the tears will come. But I did think of Tombstone. Wyatt shows up to see Doc Holiday in the sanatorium and asks hims "How are ya doin'?" And Doc responds "I'm dying. How are you?" rather cheerily. I decided that the first person who asks, that shall be my response. How are you doing, Amanda? "I'm dying inside, how are you?" Made me laugh...my humor is beyond twisted when I'm sad.
So the ironic thing is that as I ran and punished the heck out of my poor little body, it did help clear the fog of the mornings weep-fest a little. No, the hole in my chest is still screaming and will for...well until something or someone comes to fix that. It was kind of nice though that something other than the remnants of my fragile heart to overtake my thoughts for five minutes.
Never knew how fragile I was. I keep thinking about the lyrics in Sara Bareilles's song Gravity - "You loved me cause I was fragile, when I thought that I was strong. You touched me for a little while, and all my fragile strength is gone" ~ I think I always thought I was strong, tough and rough. He saw through that. And now he's gone.
When I woke out of sleep this morning at the ungodly hour of 645 and commenced to weeping uncontrollably for another hour or so, I decided to wave the white flag of surrender on any further attempts at sleep and just get out of bed. I also decided that since my heart was still in extraordinary pain, why not get up and punish the rest of me too? I strapped on my runnin' shoes and decided to begin chasing my demons down.
So off I went. And cranked up the Robbie Seay Band in hopes of drowning out the voices in my head. I talked to God while I ran. Asked him why the different answers. He just told me again to wait for things to wash out. I hate waiting. And I hate that I feel like this.
At one point, I made myself chuckle though, because I know there's going to come an endless stream of "How Are You Doing?"'s from people who really care. And honestly, I don't want to answer them. Mostly because if I say "fine" they'll know i'm lying (cuz I can't lie worth anything) and if I say "horrible" I'll have more questions to answer and the tears will come. But I did think of Tombstone. Wyatt shows up to see Doc Holiday in the sanatorium and asks hims "How are ya doin'?" And Doc responds "I'm dying. How are you?" rather cheerily. I decided that the first person who asks, that shall be my response. How are you doing, Amanda? "I'm dying inside, how are you?" Made me laugh...my humor is beyond twisted when I'm sad.
So the ironic thing is that as I ran and punished the heck out of my poor little body, it did help clear the fog of the mornings weep-fest a little. No, the hole in my chest is still screaming and will for...well until something or someone comes to fix that. It was kind of nice though that something other than the remnants of my fragile heart to overtake my thoughts for five minutes.
Never knew how fragile I was. I keep thinking about the lyrics in Sara Bareilles's song Gravity - "You loved me cause I was fragile, when I thought that I was strong. You touched me for a little while, and all my fragile strength is gone" ~ I think I always thought I was strong, tough and rough. He saw through that. And now he's gone.
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