Big girls cry in the dark...

Some thing broke quite a while ago and I don't quite know how to fix it.  I think my wholeness took a trip and has not returned yet.  I cannot put a finger on all of what is missing. I can pinpoint that the image is the mirror is foreign to me.

My dysfunction is now manageable. I have become a master at beautifying the ugly. I know the catch phrases to throw the skilled of my track. I know the facial expression to wear and the emotions to parade. 

The current of calamity that rages within my soul is catastrophic.

The hassles of everyday life distract me from the massive repairs needed.  Day by day the tears threaten to burst forward revealing the dark secrets that lay within. But the necessity to remain strong and together pushes them back with cantankerous ferocity. While this is successful in maintaining the facade that allows for daily functionality; this does nothing to alleviate the tension created by the unsatiated demonic hounds that gnaw endlessly at the remnants of my sanity.

I fear if I started to cry, I might not be able to stop.  I am terrified that if I start digging, the dirt will swallow me whole.  More importantly, I don't know how to fix what I don't know is broken.

So, I move on, through life, broken, damaged but surviving...

I think.