On the brink of tears

Have you ever had one of those weekends where your heart feels too big for your chest? Not saying I’m the Grinch finding Christmas, but in a way where every breath feels like you’ll end up in a puddle of tears?

That’s where I was two weekends ago.

You know what the strange thing was, nothing was actually wrong. If you asked me to list my ‘problems’, I wouldn’t have anything to say and I’d probably just shrug my shoulders, but the feeling was there anyway, sitting right behind my eyes. I don’t know if it’s just hormones, or if all of those tiny “background noise” worries I’m sure we all carry finally decided to move to the foreground and ask for a complete soundtrack.

Whenever it’s a cloudy or rainy day, I tend to blame the weather for my mood. If I’m having an ‘off day’, it’s obviously because it’s raining outside, but I’m self-aware enough to know it’s not just the rain. But that weekend, Sydney wasn’t doing me any favours. It’s a mystery on how I get through winter if I’m always so quick to blame the weather, but I know, not the weather’s fault.

If you read my previous blog post titled, “The Girl Who Apologises for Crying”, you can probably guess how I’m handling this. It’s like I’m my own strictest parent. I quickly wipe a tear away before anyone can see me. I walk up to my mirror, and whisper to myself: “You’re fine, everything is okay. Get it together.”

But the thing is, telling yourself everything is okay doesn’t stop the tears from coming… so I’m learning.

So, here I am, or there I was. Sitting on the edge of a good cry and a “normal” day.

I’m fine — but you ever have those days when it hasn’t been your day, week or month, or even your year? IYKYK.