The Apology Room

One of the nice things about taking massage classes for my certificate is that we get to work on each other and then we get to be the bodies that are worked on. So four nights a week we get a massage. Usually the first night in the massage is not too good. We are still struggling with finger placement and body mechanics. The massages are painful and not fluid. There is a distinct difference between when an instructor touches us and when a student does. That’s just years of experience.

But the nightly massage is wonderful. Just being touched is such a healing feeling. That one of the mail reasons I am getting into massage. I want to help people. I want them to be able to let go of the bad and painful and start living the good and the healing. I cried last night during my massage. Not the huge bawling tears of an entire breakdown. Just the streaming tears of missing my father fully. Roger was working on my scapula and hit a tender spot and I apologized for jumping. He said “There’s no apologizing here.” Suddenly I was thrown back a year when dad and I would tell each other that the room was a “No Apology Zone” and no one needed to apologize for anything. For a while we kept apologizing for everything- him wetting himself, me not moving fast enough, him spilling something, me snapping at him, him not being able to do something, me not being able to understand what he wanted. Finally I told him we weren’t allowed to apologize to each other anymore. The situation was so awful and we were in it together, there was no need for anyone to take blame or responsibility. It worked for us, even on the days when one of us couldn’t stop crying, or felt that pain of guilt for not being able to do more. 

So last night when Roger said I didn’t have to apologize it suddenly brought back that feeling of being with dad and knowing that no matter what happened or what we said, we were safe and it was okay.

I suddenly missed him so much I almost couldn’t breathe.

I am not allowing myself to really feel his loss right now. That suppression of emotion manages to burst out at hard times. Like right now, when I am typing this sitting at work with tears streaming down my face. Hard to hide that from the people who come in since everyone here is so empathetic and kind.

Less than a month till the anniversary. It just seems so unreal and really, really not cool. I can feel myself starting to unravel. It is like a spiraling feeling where I don’t know where the end is going to be. Probably me sitting in the middle of my living room in the middle of the night rocking back and forth holding something soft. I have overbooked, over worked, over obsessed about everything all in the hopes of maybe barreling through this time without feeling anything. I don’t think I’m going to make it. The emotions have to come out one way or another. I can hold them back for only so long.

Today, however, I have to keep them in check. No crying receptionists!

I’ll go back to looking at puppies online and shopping for apartments near the beach. See, doing it again. Suppress the pain and maybe it will go away. (I know that is not how it works, but it is what the option is right now.)