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To be honest, tonight is one of those nights when I find myself wondering again why it is that I’m bothering with this. It’s not so much that I would rather be sleeping than lying in bed with my computer (though I would), but that I don’t feel like I have enough time and space right now to really know my truth.

The truth is, I’m judging myself for how I’m processing (or not processing) this transition. I think I ought to be breaking down and I’m not. I think I ought to be in tears at least some of the time, and I haven’t been.

I’m okay, and it is making me uncomfortable.

I think I attach meaning to depth of emotion that may or may not be real. Or, maybe more accurately, I attach meaning to the expression of emotion, assuming that the depth of feeling corresponds to the intensity of its expression. Can I really be sad and not be crying? I then take my lack of tears to mean that I am somehow disengaged from my experience. I’m not crying because I’m not really present. I must be unconsciously defending against my sadness, missing the truth of the experience as it’s happening.

All of this goes through my mind without my even knowing it in a fraction of a second. The thought I am conscious of is…I’m detached. But I’m not. I’m sad. I’m just not being broken by my sadness.

My mind is a convoluted place.

I’m way more tired now than I was when I started this post and I’m still not sure why I’m bothering with it.

Really, I just need to cut myself some slack.