Not too long ago, I was sitting in an Arby's drive-thru line I unexpectedly began to sob. I'm talking the level of sobbing that had anybody noticed me I might have had been admitted for observation in a nearby mental health institution for 48 hours. Like most of my emotional breaks it came out of the blue - but this one felt like much more of a downpour than any teardrop cloudburst I had recently experienced. It was an earthquake taking place in the very mantle of my soul. The emotion explosion inside of me was so deep that I could feel new fault lines form. I felt every fiber of my core shaking and swaying. The caverns inside of myself were collapsing. The mineshafts I use to mine for gold in my heart were being buried under my trembling form. Suddenly, I was in the middle of a full-on emotional implosion that arrived without announcement or invitation. I really cannot remember what it was that triggered me into this specific breakdown. I have been an living on the edge of my emotions lately so it could have really been anything. Maybe my anxieties that usually wait for me under my bed at night decided to show up at lunchtime just to prove they aren’t always daysleepers. Maybe it was the sappy bumper sticker of a car in front of me? It was the one that featured a stick figure family holding hands. Those stickers always make me nostalgic for a time in my life when my kids were little and enjoyed tangling their little fingers in mine. I so miss the warmth of their racing pulses beating against my own. Maybe it was the song that had been playing on the radio at the time? It was a lovely song that had bunch of piano and violin woven in it. Perhaps the beauty of that instrumental combination ripped a hole in my onion paper composure that I attempt walk around with? I really have no clue what reduced me into a blubbering cliche of faucet eyes and dry heaves - but whatever it was - it got me good. What I did know was that I had to pull myself together quickly. There were only three cars in front of me before I got to the window to pick up my food. I didn't want the teenager handing me my Beef N’ Cheddar to feel compelled to ask me if I was alright. In my writing life I wear my heart on my sleeve - but in my life outside of the page, I try to keep my emotions kenneled like it was a puppy with a leaky bladder. However, as it turns out, while in the midst of a full on meltdown there is no trickier feat to pull of than to try and calm down quickly. I kept sucking in deep breaths like I had just been pulled out of a riptide - but with every breath I took in my breathing became more and more jagged. The more I rubbed my eyes the more tears it produced. They were acting like lemons that were being squeezed of my humanity that was now streaming all over my face. Arby's drive-thru's are normally a stop motion experience in customer service. You can spend an entire week waiting for an overpriced mountain of slow roasted goodness - but not on this day. On this particular day, the fine people operating this particular franchise had their act together. The drive-thru line was moving quickly and by the time it was my turn at the window I was in full melancholy bloom. I rolled down my window and the teenager (whom I am guessing was not a trained mental health professional) came face-to-face with a middle-aged man in a full-on emotional crisis. She handed me my unsweet tea with a look on her face that indicated her Arby’s handbook had never quite prepared her for this kind of moment with a customer. She was really quite lovely about the whole encounter. I have blocked a lot of it out of my memory (due to the toxic levels of cringe worthy things I think I said to her) but here is brief snippet of how our interaction went: Fast Food Teenager: Sir, are you okay? Me: Who knows…? Fast Food Teenager: Um. Can I do anything to help? Me: Can I have a couple extra packets of horsey sauce? On the way home to finish eating my feelings I admonished myself over and over for my inability to keep myself together in public. I was ashamed about my outburst. An outburst that I still couldn't put my finger on where it had actually come from. I was raised to treat my emotions like a secret garden that can only be accessed during blue moons in April. What I had just done was blasphemy for how my parents instructed me to operate. However, by the time I pulled up in front of my house I had come to a different revelation. I think part of the reason why I am exhausted all of the time is because I'm spending so much effort burying my feelings under a couple miles of prideful granitite. What is the harm in letting other people know that I am a just as human as they are? There is none. In fact, I have convinced myself that the teenage fast food worker who had caught a glimpse of my breakdown was given permission to show her feelings to the world more authentically. Perhaps that wasn’t her take away from our encounter and perhaps the story of her interaction with a weepy penguin-looking man is now being passed around snapchat - but that's okay too. I am done apologizing for being human. As I sat in my driveway consuming my lukewarm roast beef sandwich I wrote the following poem about how I plan to quit hiding my wounds from the world. I knew that if I didn't write about it in that moment that I would forget exactly how I felt. Yes, I had made myself into a spectacle but at least I got a poem and a couple extra packets of horsey sauce out of it. With eyes stinging and nose running I wrote the following poem: If you haven't had a complete breakdown in public I highly recommend it ~ it's like being an ice cream cone sitting upright on a summer sidewalk where you feel exactly like a skeleton of fragile wafer bones trying to keep all of our your sweet sadness inside of you from spilling out on the warm pavement causing your neighbor to walk over you on her way to take her daughter to her modern dance class "Look out for that mess,honey," the mom will say as she guides her child past the puddle that you are forming into "Don't get any of that on your shoes." the little girl will look at you and you will look at her ~ a moment of connection between the two of you before her mom lightly will pinch her arm to get her to quit staring at you ~ but it will be too late you will have given the little girl permission to act human in public my love, you need to know that in that moment of your public breakdown you won't feel any shame I know you think that you will but you won't you will feel something else ~ authenticity like you aren't living your life for other people anymore like you finally living for yourself I know it's a cliche for me to say that it sometimes takes losing your mind to find your voice but it's true the more we melt outside of the cage we put ourselves in the more we become what we are meant to be: ~ a human with changing seasons does the thunderhead feel self-conscious when it booms above a valley? does the snow care if it covers a rooftop under a blanket of fresh powder? does the sun race to hide behind the moon whenever people witness it dance in the sky? does the rain fret about what we will think about it as it cries all over our flowers? no they don't the seasons just be the season they need to be - and they do so unafraid and you should just be who you need to be - and you should do so unafraid don't bury your flame under soil don't hide your tears beneath sunglasses don't use your hand to cover your smile don't put your song on the lowest volume if Creation wanted us to conceal our emotions we would have been born with yarn sewn on us for lips and buttons stitched in for eyes we'd be expressionless puppets we'd be static zombies we'd be easy to forget our emotions are what gives us power our emotions are what tie us to the divine our emotions are what melody behind our lyrics be real if you feel like glowing - light the room up with your shine if you have to blizzard - cover the valley in your ice if you have to rain - saturate the ground until sunflowers bloom if you have to thunder - break my ear drums we have been told for years to keep it all in because if we let people see that we care about how brutal and lovely this experience of being alive really is that it may cause them to think less of us if that's the case then I want the world to have the lowest opinion of me possible I want the world to see me as a tangle of cords I want the world to see me as an unmade bed I want the world to see me as a volatile season I want the world to see me as a puddle of ice cream I want the world to know me as a human don't keep it all in let your seasons out and if you need to break down in public go right ahead cry without shame trace your fingers on your scars sing your sorrow because when you do a little kid might see you and feel like they can be themselves too and to finally have permission to finally live authentically too ~ john roedel (from the poetry collection “Remedy”) {art by Han Lue}
HEART WRITE SOUL 8 WEEK ONLINE WRITING COURSE
We had so much fun this summer with our online writing course – we’re going to do it all over again!
Starting tomorrow! Just a couple spaces left!
So excited to announce that I get to team up again with the ab-fab, force of goodness and hilarity, Michelle Francois Walsh for a 8-week ONLINE writing course starting tomorrow!!
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John, I, just recently and finally, had my 1st public breakdown since my sweet daughter's departure 4yrs ago. It felt so freeing allowing myself to let go & not care about what others thought of it or me. Thank you so much for putting into words how that felt.
With Gratitude,
June
John, I, just recently and finally, had my 1st public breakdown since my sweet daughter's departure 4yrs ago. It felt so freeing allowing myself to let go & not care about what others thought of it or me. Thank you so much for putting into words how that felt.
With Gratitude,
June