My Jaw May Be Telling Me Something

I don't have energy to write my usual length of post, but I wanted to share some thoughts I've been having since we got back from LA two days ago after a five-day Thanksgiving sojourn. It was pretty much the usual array of familial craziness--gaggles of visitors suffocating their hosts, large groups trying to agree on meals, group efforts to plan routes through the city's hellish traffic, out-loud belches caroming across the Thanksgiving table.

Anyway, on the way home, I noticed that I'd developed a TMJ headache and some jaw tightness (I was diagnosed with pretty bad TMJ several years ago, but I got it under control with the help of a temporary prescription to Paxil, of all things.) When I woke up yesterday morning, it was worsening. I took some Excedrin, did some Yoga, anything I could to relax. Nothing helped. Then I was standing in my bedroom, looking out the window, and I was overcome by a wave of emotion about Rox. For the first time in well over a week, I let out a good chunk of grief, and like magic, my headache and jaw tightness were gone within minutes.

What I realized was the connection between my TMJ outbreak and my having been around the family, with whom I don't feel safe expressing feelings about Rox. Not only that, but I've begun to be very aware that my breakup with Taylour a few months ago has had the desired impact, as the grieving that has poured out of me since is cleansing me, accelerating the process.

As one of the panelists said during a National Survivors of Suicide Day webcast last week, we shouldn't focus on the idea of a light at the end of the tunnel--rather, we need to recognize that there's light coming in all over the place should we choose to let it warm us. I can feel those little shards of light hitting me now--and I plan to avail myself of them as much as possible.