The Cry I Didn’t Know I Needed

Saturday, 28th June 2025

This evening before bed, the overwhelming sadness that I’d felt at the wedding reception hit me again. This time in the safety of my own home and bed I allowed myself to cry properly. 

I’d had such a busy week - in hindsight probably too busy - I’d been in Birmingham for a two day event on Monday and Tuesday, worked at the studio Wednesday morning, with a hospital appointment in the afternoon (the long one with Mr Cathcart), on Thursday I had pretty much worked solidly through from 9:30am - 8:15pm with calls in between classes. I’d taken Amber into London for her taster day at her college on Friday followed by her prom in the evening, then on Saturday I’d spent the day shadowing Advanced Pilates Teacher Training in London which was such a bombardment of information to take onboard whilst keeping my game-face on.

So unsurprisingly come bed time I was a bit broken, this time I had felt it brewing.

It’s a strange thing, I am not usually one to hold in my emotions, and I don’t think I have been doing this here either - I have cried in most of my early hospital appointments and on the way home. 

But these tears were different, they just felt like an outpouring of emotion that needed to be released. 

It was a combination of fear of the unknown, the sadness of my situation, the frustration of having to go through this all again, and the anger of the why me - I’ve done my stint.

I’m not sure how long I cried for but I fell asleep feeling very sorry for myself. 

The next morning after a good night's sleep I felt much better and vowed to have a quiet day, which I did.

We got the cases out of the loft in preparation for our upcoming holiday and I started to gather some bits together to chuck in the general direction of the case, then spent the majority of the afternoon flopped on the sofa watching TV.