The Good Cry

The Great Release

Supriya Bhonsle via Mixkit.co

You have had an awful day at work. Your car wouldn’t start when you left. You finally get it going only to have the old lady on the highway merge as soon as you try to take your exit and cause you to miss it. You burn dinner. The dog’s belly rejects the food you have been feeding it for three straight years and vomit soaks your carpet. You are out of carpet and upholstery cleaner.

You forget to pay your cell phone bill.

The dishes need washing. The laundry is still waiting for you to remember it is there. Your youngest brother lost his job and you lent him your last $40.00 knowing he won’t ever be able to pay you back. Your crush knows they are your crush and is now avoiding you.

You stub your toe, break a nail, and lose your favorite earrings. There is an increase in your rent, effective immediately. You are shorted a day of pay — by mistake. The payroll department tells you, you will be “compensated on your next check.”

Your mother needs a ride to a city three hours away, however, has no gas money to give you. You do it anyway. While there, she gets hungry . . . She wants lunch . . . You buy it. You have $10.00 left to your name when you get back home.

Payday is eight days away.

There is a power outage in your area. No power for four hours, then six, then eight, then twelve. You spent $80.00 on groceries, most of the items are refrigerated or perishable. Payday is still eight days away.

Your co-worker quits, walks out the same day. That project he babysat is now yours. You take it on plus your work too. No pay increase, no new co-worker for five months. There is overtime, but there is NO overtime pay. You are asked to remember your role in the company and how influential you are.

You spruce up your résumé.

Your car battery dies. You replace it. The brakes go. You replace them too. The spark plugs no longer spark and you throw your hands up in the air — exhausted from this month from hell.

You kick off your shoes, sprawl yourself across the living room floor, and you cry. Your chest heaves. Your eyes are bloodshot red. You lose your voice. You cry until the pain seeps out of your heart, slithers down your hands, and floods your home. You cry until the tears are afraid to leave your eyes. You cry until the next-door neighbor knocks on yours and says, “Everything all right in there?”

You cry while responding. You tell her behind your stable walls, “I’m just having a bad go of it, is all.” She tells you she made lasagna and steamed broccoli. She is making you a plate. You cannot refuse. You cry because she is heaven-sent. You cry because she cares. You cry because there are still beautiful souls on this earth.

You have yourself a good cry for everything there is and everything there is not and you remember . . .

“Trouble don’t last always.”

You have yourself a good cry and get ready to endure life all over again.


Originally posted via Medium as a metered paywall piece. Shared is the “friend link” so that you’ll be able to read for free. 

The Journey Back To Mental Wellness

Citronella|Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Part VI: Move In Your Own Direction And At Your Own Pace|Lune, 6 Parts

pause, take a moment
you want this
you’ve always known it

use caution, be safe
you should try
not everyone loves

not everyone feels
so be you
first — and no one else

learn to love nature
yes, love it
not just take pictures

get caught up in it
to release
everything at once

guard yourself, be true
you know you
better than we do


*Author’s Note: This is the final installment as far as sharing my journey in therapy here on Medium. My focus will simply be on gaining as much as I can from it and journaling at home, instead. Thank you to all of you for the support, kind words, sensible reminders, and for reading. Peace.


The Journey Thus Far: Parts I-V

White Lightning Love

Or, The Tale of the Untamed

you fly through time parting ways
beneath soiled covers, your lips
the color of chilled steel
puckered up for acceptance
all paths lead to you
a never-ending dream that loops 
on creepy days, fingertips moisten
my rigid limbs — settled like coffee
grounds at the bottom of a mug

I sort the many memories of you
dig through an oasis, walk an
invisible path
you are eons away from my touch
crafty, your way of loving
eluding my embrace
I knew you’d be the near-death of me
but, I held on

how’d you know the moment
to re-enter my life?
I was done believing in you
you cannot be tamed, white lightning, 
bottled up but unable to be shared
we have no extra glasses, no cheers
to a new beginning
my happiness, I thought, 
ended with you

here you are, the ghost that ghosted
me years before disappearing acts
were trendy
oh, you shifty lover
leave me sick in my bones
do not resuscitate


Originally published in P.S. I Love You via Medium.

hello, Time.


hello, Time . . .
so, you’re here for me, but
I am still not done with today’s day
and tomorrow always comes before
I am ready.

I request more of you.

And I know this game.
I know you will deny me of
what I ask, but
I am stubborn enough to
think that maybe today is different.

You could change your mind
and this suggestion of M O R E from
you could land in lap,
shortly after I finish this sentence.

Maybe not.

But, think about it.
Just a little bit more of you today
would be better for me tomorrow
and really–aren’t we eager to keep
me satisfied these days?

Time, you can make it happen.
I’ll be waiting.


©2019 Tremaine L. Loadholt All Rights Reserved