Fart in a Bottle

Kim has been in town for the past week and she leaves to go home tomorrow. I wish we had more time to spend together. At dinner tonight with my family, I reminisced about the meltdown I had the last time she was in town and how far I have come since then. During Kim's last visit, I was just about a month into recovery from my first surgery. When she hugged me before she left to go to the airport, I lost it. I sobbed about how overwhelmed I felt with the stoma and ostomy. I cried because recovery was hard and it sucked. Tears also found my face-cheeks because I knew I was going to miss her. I was a mess. I felt defeated even though surgery went better than expected.

My family was shocked to learn that I had been overwhelmed and emotional about the surgery and ostomy. Is that a testament to my ability to keep things bottled up?  They couldn't have known I struggled coping with my new reality if I didn't tell them. For having uncontrollable bowels at times, I sure know how to keep shit to myself. My instincts were to avoid feelings, bury them, and hope they went away. For the most part, it worked. My emotional maturity is questionable. I don't know what it was about that moment with Kim that cracked the bottle with the things. Once she left, I collected myself and put the things back in the proverbial bottle.

I hugged Kim goodbye tonight and I didn't have a meltdown. There weren't any feelings I was suppressing either. I am a lot stronger emotionally and physically than I was a few months ago. I can't wait to see her in August!!!

I think if I trapped a fart in a bottle and I left it in there long enough, eventually it would not stink when I opened the bottle. I also think if I bottle up feelings long enough, eventually they will lose their potency when/if the bottle gets cracked. I could probably afford to get better at expressing myself. But then again, I think my "fart in a bottle" analogy is pretty fucking expressive. It could also be absolute bullshit.