Help.

Posted by Erin on 1st October 2009 in Erin's Thoughts

Yesterday I woke up crowded.  My entire sense of myself scrunched up in the space between my temples.  A searing, too-bright, too-hot, too-dense space.  Dense in the way the heat of the sun can crowd the vastness of the desert.

The couch too small, the street and it’s noise too close, the constant proximity and interaction with people – meaningful or otherwise too much.  I was desperate to drain, instead I felt like a bathtub clogged, the dirty water filling the tub as I  take a shower.  And no where any space to stretch out my soul.  No where any space to breathe.

My head all pressure and my body normally so sensitive, a semi-permeable membrane of transition between my inner realms and the Earth’s physical realms was dead, numb, the absence of my familiar sense of vastness.  I curled my body up as small is it would go around the waves of nausea as I rode the subway.  Trying to shut it all out and open inside, feeling only barred from myself and thrust into the oppressive over-exposure of the big city.

The dullness, the throbbing pressure finally overcame any sense of being in class and I excused myself after the first break feeling a desperate, almost frantic need to go home.

I made a cacoon of myself and my sweaters, curled up tight in my seat.  Some sleep came.  But so did a violent, physical ill – suddenly and forcefully half way through the two-hour bus ride – all down the front of my dress and eventually into the plastic garbage bags that hang on the side of the bus at each set of seats.  A certain portion of relief came immediately after that.  But the deepest, wildest placest in me were roaring.

Home.  I captured the comfort of my bed, delving into it so deeply it was more than physical.  I slept immediately and woke to space.  Sweet space. I  lingered.  Rose up to the day wrapping it around me like a shawl.  The autumn-ness of the day soothing the places of my soul that were still shaky, and bruised. I walked through the calmness of the day.  Savoring the taste of cool air, the sounds of birds, the wordlessness in my heart. The sheer roominess of it all.  And with all effortlessness the draining finally came.  Always in the form of tears.  My heart, like a rain cloud, ready to burst – did.  And just like anticipated rain, it cooled, and refreshed, and cleansed the accumulation of dust and clutter.   The near panic of overload floating up to the surface to be fully felt and with it a very clear plea.

Help.

One Response to “Help.”

  1. Tammie says:

    my heart is stirred with your awareness, so full, so sensitive and wonderfully expressed with words. i am sorry you had to experience being sick…

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