But some people can't tell where it hurts. They can't calm down. They can't ever stop howling.

Blessed be those that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Nobody said when.

Why cry, you should be happy, you got out. But after all that's happened to me since that day, I understand why. You hold it in, whatever it is, until you can make it through the worst part. Then, once you're safe, you can cry all the tears you couldn't waste time crying before.

I've cut myself off. I can feel the place where I used o be attached. It's raw, as when you grate your finger. It's a shredded mess of images. It hurts. But where exactly on me is this torn-off stem? Now here, now there. Meanwhile the other girl, the one with the memory, is coming nearer and nearer. She's catching up to me, trailing behind her, like red smoke, the rope we share.

I am so thankful I had the strength and promises of a loving God to guide my choices and decisions, and to uphold me through the unbelievably dark days and times of overwhelming sorrow.

There is such a difference between coming out of sorrow thankful for relief, and coming out of sorrow full of sympathy with and trust in Him who has released us.

I'm currently in the middle of a depression. I couldn't really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which confronts me at every turn.

No one is spared. The sick, the elderly, children, babies, and pregnant women - all marched to their death.

Crying can bring such relief.

I know that there will be solace for every sorrow, whatever the circumstances.

When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived!

But what if the great secret insider-trading truth is that you don't ever get over the biggest losses in your life? Is that good news, bad news, or both? . . . . The pain does grow less acute, but the insidious palace lie that we will get over crushing losses means that our emotional GPS can never find true north, as it is based on maps that no longer mention the most important places we have been to. Pretending that things are nicely boxed up and put away robs us of great riches.