A strange feeling came over me. I felt sadness. I rarely feel sad. My emotions usually leap to anger. Yet this Thanksgiving I struggled with this sadness. It waited for me at most corners. It lingered behind the sweet coos of my baby and the scenes of childhood in my home. Tears would form little pools behind over sized sunglasses. I have been pushing it away for months now. Putting off the grieving and dealing with the trauma I endured. I filled my summer days with outings galore, friends, girl's nights and activity. I couldn't afford to stand still - even with a newborn. Now I look around and I survey the damage and I feel the crash of sadness.
A friend pointed out to me that I laugh to hide pain. I didn't agree at the time. Laughter is just a part of me. That big annoying cackle is just what I was born with. Then sadness came and sat with me for a while. I couldn't laugh anymore. I missed it. Every time I spoke to someone I wanted to laugh even while the words were aching. It was tempting to lace my e-mails with humour even when I spoke of my sadness to my friends. Even now I find it hard to focus on the pain I am soaking in. I want to run to the quickest funny. I learned this weekend that I love to laugh because I could put people at ease.
My laughter never felt fake or put on to me. It was as easy as breathing. Showing the weight that I carried meant that I couldn't be enjoyed. Sitting with my sadness out in the open made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to burden anyone or ask too much. I hate being the one that needed fixing or helping. I wanted to make the people around me light not heavy with the load of my problems. This year has been especially hard because I have had to lean on a lot of people. I feel this inner struggle to share but not to overwhelm or bring people down. More importantly sadness seemed unchristian to me. What does God do with my sadness anyway?
Have you ever had to sit with your sadness?
