December 4, 2003

I woke up a few days ago feeling really good. I had that light sense of well being floating through me. Then suddenly a veil dropped over my good spirits. It’s like a veil of tears has taken up residence just under my skin.
I have discovered that I am now two people in one body. They’re both me, Debbie Haas, but two versions of me. One is the normal, functional me that carries on business-as-usual. The other me occupies my core, waiting a turn to openly do her job, always carrying the burden of grief, the full load of sadness.
Blessedly, her turn to show herself usually comes when we’re alone at home or out driving. Sometimes she reveals herself while we’re out in public so we walk together.
I used to feel self-conscious when I would have tears streaming down my cheeks while I was away from home, around other people, but I don’t anymore. I just let the tears flow as I get the job-at-hand done, ignoring the few askance looks from strangers.
If I stayed in every time I thought I might cry I would never leave the safe confines of my home.

I always feel this other me. It’s beginning to feel normal. I guess it is my new normal.