The Emotional Wringer

I know I am aging myself by asking this, (but you saw my "OLD" cake so there really are no surprises.)
Anyway, do you remember those old washing machines that had wringers?

For you young'uns that have no clue or real old ones that have memory loss here is a (pretty pink?) picture.

Well, today therapy was an emotional wringer for me.
It squished out all the tears my little ducts had stored up.
(Too bad it doesn't work like that on body fat.)

It's the same 'ole stuff.

Things I wish had been washed out of my life long ago,
But weren't.
They keep showing up like old stains.
You know the ones, those yellowish, brownish, greasyish, I'm-here-to-stay-ones?

In preparing for the parenting class, a lot of these were revealed.
And since the things that came up for me are like permanent stains on my heart,
It did not help much to deny their existence. 

Oh, believe me I have been trying.
I would be able to teach a DISTRACTION 101 class.
I have plenty techniques and materials to provide at least a months worth of avoidance.

So here is more truth about why I didn't blog for long spans.
I was avoiding any feelings that might come through the keys on this computer.
Or I thought I was.

Instead I played solitaire.

It is a good distractor but not a very good stain fighter.

I do feel better now.
Wrung out, and empty.
Empty in a good way.

In a way that isn't carrying all this damp weight around.
In a way that can let my heart dry out before it molds.
In a hopeful way.


I love the smell of clean laundry!