Processing

So I've just learned something for sure about my 30-year-old self. When awful things happen, it takes me some time to process them. I'm not an immediate cryer. I don't burst out in tears of joy or sadness. I'm a stewer. I let things stew around until I overflow. That was today.

My Monday morning was rocked with news of a suicide on campus that directly affected MCF, my workplace. I knew this week was not going to remotely resemble anything normal. The news hung around me like a dark cloud and I couldn't even imagine how the brother who found him felt, the girlfriend, friends and family, but most of all that dear momma. I was racing Luke in the yard with trucks, and it occurred to me that that momma probably did something similar and her baby is gone. No time to say goodbye, no time to say I love this or that about you. Just gone. I knew others' dark cloud loomed much worse than mine. So, I bought the kids who were hanging around the house pizza. I knew they'd need to eat and not want to leave (or have any money).

Today I went to the dentist for the broken tooth I had and got my tooth pulled. I'm mortally afraid of the dentist. In college, I went to The Butcher and he pulled an infected tooth, which left me in so much pain that I accidentally took too much Tylenol 3 and felt like I was dying. Not a good experience. So even though I really like my dentist, I was scared. My knuckles were clenched, my toes curled, my body so stiff even though I couldn't feel any pain. It's the sounds and the pressure and knowing what's going on in there.

So as I left the dentist, I couldn't wait to get to my car to cry. I needed to get it all out, about MCF, about the hurting, about being so nervous at the dentist. I don't get a lot of genuine solitude, so when I do, I feel things for real. I drove a street over to Kim's office and got a hug. I nearly stopped on Sycamore to get another hug from Kristin.

I finally figured out this is how I deal with things. Good to know:)