My Eyes Are Leaking

I would call it crying if that was what it was, but it’s a more kind of quiet, subtle letting go. Literally like my eyes are leaking on their own.

I could feel my centre so acutely when I fell asleep last night. I came home and ate dinner, listened to the debate (thank you America for feeding my love of all things ridiculous and politics similtaneously), had a hot shower and went to bed. 

As I was falling asleep my eyes started to leak. I wasn’t crying, really, just shedding these random tears that were pooling. I did my best to notice them and was like where is this coming from? The centre part we focused on in yoga was so loud and so front and centre.

My eyes were closed and I actually had these images pop into my head. 

I am walking across a field to a giant fortress. The closer I get, the bigger it seems. It is overwhelmingly large, and solid, all the way around. There is no drawbridge or windows, this is not a castle. Things that are inside don’t get out. There is a door, a wooden one with slats, and a knocker.

I reach out for the knocker but recoil. The whole building seems to groan at the idea of my touch, defensively, as if it isn’t safe for me to touch it. 

All of a sudden it transforms into this injured baby animal. A seal, an otter, whatever it is it’s adorable and it is hurt. It wants to be held but it is so terrified it won’t allow me – I reach for it and it recoils. I try to soothe it as you would a small child, shhhhing it and being calm and gentle, but it won’t let me touch it. Each time I try it goes to bite me, baring its teeth. It is crying out and I am helpless as I try to calm the injured baby. 

I fall asleep at some point, with tears pooling on my pillow, the image of that hurt wailing baby animal in my head and heart. The ache is till there this morning and to my surprise so were the tears.

That centre part of me that has been on lockdown for so long, it’s come alive. It is part Fort Knox, an impenetrable fortress that nobody dare knock on. It is part baby animal, helpless and hurt, refusing help despite wanting to be held and cared for because it doesn’t want to hurt again. It doesn’t want to hurt more. It can’t take it. It cannot survive more hurt. 

Yoga Therapy was supposed to help me get in touch with myself, this part of me. And it did. I am just not sure what to do with it right now. I am glad that I am aware of it and curious but it would be really great if my eyes would stop leaking. 

I am, at once, both the baby seal and Fort Knox. And my eyes are leaking. 

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14 thoughts on “My Eyes Are Leaking

  1. I hear both the sadness and the appreciation for feeling the sadness; i think starting to feel more, letting the tears fall more, even just acknowledging the difficulty of life and really coming to terms with how painful the past was, is an incredibly confusing experience. Because the pain comes and goes, it opens then shuts down. It isn’t clear or even really logical, and feels like so much. i hope you can give yourself a lot of gentleness and acknowledge the tremendous amount of energy it takes to do the work you are doing right now.

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  2. Maybe this is part of a release. It’s interesting being both the baby seal and Fort Knox, such opposite ends of the spectrum. I am glad that you were able to get in touch with this part of yourself, but I know it’s gotta be hard not knowing how to stop it. I imagine it feels like, now that Fort Knox has transformed into a baby seal, you can’t push emotions back into Fort Knox, right? Or maybe I’m wrong. It’s gotta be hard to see Fort Knox in the same way now, though. I’m here for you, and just know that this, and the leaking, won’t last forever.

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    • I feel like it’s maybe revealing itself to me for what it truly is, and the fear that runs so deep. Like it’s testing the waters. Am I safe?

      It was unexpected. I don’t like unexpected, and I wish I was seeing A today – not helping at a stupid useless conference for crazy Owner2.

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      • I think you are safe. You’ve cultivated a support system and you’re out of the environment. And I know that “thinking” that you’re safe is different than “feeling” like you’re safe and it might take time.
        I can understand that, I’m not a fan of the unknown. Oh I got the days mixed up. I’d been thinking that it was good because you would see A today… it’s tomorrow, isn’t it? Hopefully the conference will be busy enough to where this isn’t on your mind all day.

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      • Fuck. I know. It will probably come back though. And on one hand I wanted it – asked for it really by connecting to it… And on the other hand I don’t.

        I know that fear holds me back though. I know I recoil and don’t share out of fear.

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      • Makes sense, I’m that way too. I think it was a lesson that you do have the ability to connect to it, and going forward, that will help. Avoiding it for now though while it’s still too much is okay. You’ll be ready and do it when you’re ready. Don’t rush nature (that’s what my counselor said and it’s stuck in my mind). Fear sucks. What I try to do is ask myself what I’m getting from holding onto the fear and not letting go (when in the presence of a supportive environment of course).

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