I say this because I think there are two saturated sponges residing somewhere in my eye sockets.
Practically every time I blink drops of water come out.
Now I would have just thought it was me, with the 'need to cry', but even after the cry-movie (July 3 post ) I am still draining.
So I am thinking the SpongeBob twins have migrated over from Krabby Patties.
I am starting to feel like what the name implies.
Well, not so crabby I guess as just moist and crummy.
(Whatever does that mean?)
(Sounds like a gross infection.)
Perhaps it can be attributed to the challenges that have come up with different relationships.
Or maybe I am just grieving the loss of letting go of what had 'appeared' to be 'a dream'.
Even small losses need to be grieved.
I wonder if it is possible to have a need to grieve the loss of the 'old you'?
I like this 'new me' who is showing up, but I was really close with the old me.
We have known each other practically our whole lives!
Or maybe the fact that one of my sons will be moving far away in a couple of weeks is making my heart sad.
(That counsel to just text him (June 27 post) isn't bringing me much comfort right now.)
I have started looking for a safe place to wring out my spongy stowaways.
I don't want to get anyone else wet.
I also don't want to drown.
It is starting to visibly show on my face too.
(Make-up can only do so much when it comes to covering crabby baggies.)
I know I have been writing about tearful stuff lately but I want to assure you I am not depressed, just experiencing some emotional-growth-expansion (sponges remember??)
I start a house-sitting job today.
That will be a great place to do some wringing.
I will keep you posted.
Now that sounds disturbing.
Any of us who are waiting to see what happens with sponges have some major housecleaning that is waiting (and probably badly needing) to be done!
"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another." ~ Anatole France