PlazaJen: Passion Knit

If I haven't utilized all the ways there are to cry, I'm sure I will before the year is out. I most dislike the gaping soundless crying that precedes the gut-wrenching sobbing. I know it's a relief, it's letting out grief, but I hate hate hate it. All the anxiety and restless hope that lived like a clawing scrambling ferret in my chest has been replaced by a similar-feeling sense of dread and worry; the future holds many opportunities to sledgehammer me emotionally, I fear some of the practicalities of sorting out the estate, and I am basically being irrational and channeling my lifelong desire to control things, to know what's going to happen, and to try to impact it.

Deep breaths. Leaky tears. One day at a time.