Sunday, July 31, 2011

Our Regularly Scheduled Breakdown Did Occur

I blew up last night.
I did it.
I didn't really.
I did.
Mostly I just cried.
I was so tired and then we had martinis and I made that supper and I wept. Just wept.

I think I carry a load of guilt around with me that bends my back and pulls me down.
All the time.
It's like when I was born, the guilt was handed to me and shoved into my mouth with spoons of pot tin.

Okay. Here's a true thing:
On my birthday, my mother called to wish me a happy birthday. We talked for a moment. She told me how bad she felt that day, her head, the dizziness, and then I told her I loved her. She said, "And I love you, Mary. I have been thinking about you all day. You were my first beautiful baby. That lived."

I cracked up but still...hey! Another lovely spoonful of guilt. Somehow.
My mother had a miscarriage and then a stillborn before I managed to pass the portal of life.

And I understand why she would say what she said but still...

Hank heard the whole thing and he laughed. "It's better," he said about my relationship with my mother. "But it ain't good."

Whatever. And still.
So instead of just being able to say what I feel I hold everything in until it all bursts out and for those of you who know me and have known me here for awhile, you know this happens. Sumertime it happens, and then usually somewhere near the end of hunting season.

I was so tired.
And then I slept for about eleven hours. Not kidding you. And I'm still tired.

And I need...
Oh hell, I don't even know what I need.

I did. I broke down last night, I broke out in weeping. And I could weep again this morning. In fact, I have.

I should go serve lunches at the Opera House today. I should. Oh hell, I should. I should weed the garden (call Hercules), clean out the chicken house, do more laundry, take the trash, mop the floors, wash the dogs, figure out a way to help earn money, lose twenty pounds, exercise more regularly, be a better wife, a better friend, finish my novel. Etc. Etc.

Instead, here I am. On the verge of weeping.
Lily and Owen are coming out and I am going to make pancakes. Do you see how blessed I am?

Sometimes I just feel so weak. Like, "Hold me. I am tired. Just hold me."

This life, this overfull, beautiful thing we call life and it requires constant tending and scrabbling and work and sometimes (summertime, end of hunting season) I am just overdone.

And I feel whiny and weak because...this is it. This is everything I ever wanted. And more.

And my vessel, this body/soul of mine are maybe not big enough, strong enough, to hold it all all the time.

And it overflows out my eyes.

And I feel guilty.

Well, that's all. For this morning.

Stupid Mary. Stupid blog. Stupid crying.

It is a beautiful day. I will say that and you can know it's true.


  1. Oh Mary, I've been doing the same thing this morning and I don't even know why. I need to get myself outside in the heat and walk it off. I hate Sundays.

  2. Be still, Mary. Be still, blog. Be still, crying.

  3. Ms. Moon,
    I've been crying too and now reading your post, I'm crying again. You said a lot of things that I've been feeling myself. My mom has often made me feel guilty throughout my life. Now she is sick with cancer and I feel so bad. Anyway, sometimes the feelings are overwhelming. They just take over and you gotta get it out. The hard part is getting them to go back in again for awhile, at least for me. I hope you feel better soon. Have a nice Sunday, Ms. Moon.

  4. Sometimes you need a good old cry. That I know for sure.

    Hey! And pancakes with your grandson? The perfect panacea. Trust me on that--I'm a doctor AND I play one on TV!

    Hugs to you, Sister Moon.

  5. Ah, Sunday Funday indeed huh? I hate Sundays. They make my stomach hurt and my hands shake and my eyes spill over too. I have no idea why.

    I do know that I love you.

  6. Ah Sweet Mary Moon... None of it is stupid! Especially you... We all have those times... I've been on the verge of tears for weeks now... Many causes, including guilt, grief, sorrow, memories and hope... yes hope. Hope tends to overflow from the eyes... Sweet Mary Moon.

  7. The way you share it all - for me it's like the reading a good book feeling that you know someone you don't know, and know them in your bones.
    Love to you this Sunday.

  8. It's been a week of great joy and lots of emotions of leaving your loveys in Ashville.... then add your b day and your mom and just the build up stress of a sort of agoraphobic traveling in the wide world, and THEN the end of hunting season.

    It's a lot. Sounds like being home forced a release of it all. Tomorrow will be better. "-)

  9. You're not stupid Mary, you're human, you're tired, you've had a busy few bittersweet days.... you're allowed to cry. But know that we love you x

  10. Sometimes you need a full on cry. Don't ever feel bad about it. You feel better afterwards just like after a good rain has passed by....the freshness lifts you up.

    Thanks for your dear comment you left on my blog about heart has eased some over the week...still too quiet for me.

  11. Oy. So sorry to hear this but I completely understand that it was stored up and a long time coming. Let it go, no?

    Love to you, always --

  12. I feel that way after a vacation. I don't want to leave but don't want to stay either. It is a break in routine. HALT mode takes over. This will pass. Your mother is old and old people often say weird things. It's as if they have forgotten diplomacy.

  13. summer's a tough season. hell, they're all tough. but only sometimes. love you, mary moon.

  14. Lois- Yeah, walking in this heat would get you out of it-because you'd be DEAD! Be careful!

    Ms. Trouble- I'm trying.

    Kelly- Thank-you for commenting. You are really going through rough times with your mother, I would imagine. Life is just so damn complex sometimes.

    gradydoctor- You crack me up, Sister. Thanks.

    SJ- Me too. As you well know. Me too.

    Dianne- You know.

    Lisa- Thanks. Truly. Thanks.

    Ms. Fleur- No. The end of hunting season is far away. This is just the summer breakdown. Probably related to the birthday.

    Sandy- Thank you.

    Ellen- I am glad that you are a bit better. I know it never goes away entirely.

    Elizabeth- Will you wash yourself in the ocean for me? Then tell me how good it was.

    Syd- IN this case, my mother has always reminded me of those dead babies.

    Angella- I know. Sigh.

  15. No, no, no. Not stupid. Human, that's all. I was folding laundry today, listening to a Sugarland concert I'd taped. She started to sing this song and I backed it up and really listened to it and it made me cry - all three times I listened to it, and I felt kindof pathetic, weak, needy, and I wanted her to shine a light for me, so there. I'm human and tired too. Oddly, I had been thinking about my mom and her ripple effect on my psyche just before I melted down. Here's the link if you want to hear it too, that girl has some amazing pipes on her.
    Your mama should know better than to mention those other babies when she's wishing you happy birthday. There's no talking sense to old women sometimes.
    Hope you've shaken it off. Your family photos are wonderful things.

  16. Aw hell, girl. For the amount of tears you have dried for other people, you are MORE than entitled to shed a few of your own.

    Wish I could be there to pass the kleenex.

  17. Oh, Ms. Moon some days I could have written these words myself...if I ever let it out and all the emotion wasn't stuck in my throat where I'm always shoving it back down. Maybe it's the phase of the moon or some solar flares that are making us feel this way. All I know is that it doesn't always make sense. We can't rationalize the emotions away. Hugs to you and hope the release of the tears and sleep will bring a better Monday.

  18. So sorry to hear that you were feeling overwhelmed. I started crying with anxiety (over what I don't know--just generalized anxiety) on a restaurant patio with the Viking on Sunday. Luckily I had my sunglasses with me.

    Love you.


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