Massage...

I have only cried twice on the massage table. And I have had quite a few massages... not because I am rich and luxurious.. but because I carry all my stress in my neck and shoulders and most people who love me (including my students) know it and get me gift certificates for every holiday.

The first time I cried on the massage table I was 24... and in the thick of my separation from Beetlejuice. It was late springtime and I was living with my Dad. I had a horrible phone call with Beetlejuice that day and I begged... yes begged... him to take me back. Looking back I was in a BAAAAD place... and I was so desperate, so sad, so mortified that my husband was cheating on me that I actually begged that scum bag to take ME back. The entire call probably lasted 15 minutes and took place in my parents backyard by the pool. It started out with my normal "I miss you... Why can't we work this out?" and progressed quickly to him telling me that he didn't love me anymore and that he was enjoying his new found bachlelordom... Realizing that he was having a swell old time while I was sinking further and further into depression and slipping in to the unthinkable world of divorce and a failed marriage at 24 put me over the edge. Along with the screaming and crying and begging... I actually thought that I might die. I literally felt like my heart was so broken and smashed that I might just fall to me knees and fade away... just disappear. I felt like a piece a garbage that he had simply crumpled up and tossed aside.

I felt like I wanted to die... not in the dramatic "pull the trigger" kind of way but in a "this pain is never going to stop and there is no way to get out of this mess" kind of way. When I hysterically told Beetlejuice that I thought I was going to die (not kill myself... I just said I thought I was going to die)... he said "look... I don't really care what you do... I have a show in an hour..." and hung up. At that brief moment, I wanted to kill myself. I wanted the sheer revenge of having him know that those were his last words to me... I wanted to cause him pain that would haunt him for the rest of his life. I spent the day alone sobbing and sleeping on and off... every time I woke up the pain of the words that he said (and the fact that he never even called back to check on me) would slam into to me.. crushing me more.

That afternoon was a turning point in my separation to Beetlejuice. I took the phone book and found a place that would give me an hour massage for $50...I should mention here that I didn't have $50... I didn't even have a JOB... and I knew that the check would bounce like a hot potato... but I didn't care. I told myself that there were two options... (1) get a massage and try to calm down... or (2) find a bus and throw myself under it.

I was a wreck when I reached the little massage "spa"... (I have since been to several spas and this... was no spa... this was more of a shack. ) But my lady was a young sweet black woman who asked me how she could help me today... I let my story spill out and told her what had happened that day. She just let me cry the whole time as went through her massage routine... trying to help me relax. She told me that she had been through a divorce too and that you think you won't make it through... that you will never be able to untangle yourself from this mess... but in time you do and your life goes right back on course. She patted and rubbed my back as if she were soothing a crying infant and just kept whispering "it will all work out." I have often thought of her kindness to me...

After that day, things did slowly start to turn around... over the next 3 months... I got a job, realized that I had lost 15 pounds, got really "fun and cute" and started enjoying MY new found freedom. Eventually Beetlejuice started coming around which lead to a depression rebound... since NOW he was very interested in dating his wife and going to marriage counseling at the same time he was dating other girls... But after that horrible and lonely summer of "finding" myself... I met Mr. D. (That is another looooong story... that will have to wait.)

So.. that is the story of the first time I cried on a massage table...

The second was yesterday...

I am sure you all know the pain and stress that miscarriages and ttc can bring to you. And this whole Christmas break has been almost more than I felt I could take. It started out with a cold and a headache 2 weeks ago and hasn't let up since. My shoulders and head are constantly aching and I just can't seem to "let go" of the stress, or depression, or anger or whatever it is.... Over the two weeks I have tried hot baths, yoga, pilates, meditation, prayer, and every over the counter medication I can try including tequila and red wine to easy the tension but nothing works. This time I don't feel like a crumpled up piece of garbage that Beetlejuice tossed out... This time I feel like I am crumpling from the inside out...

My massage yesterday started with a breakdown... (now typical in the first 5 days of starting my period...) My neck and back were hurting so bad that walking around or just riding in the car caused pain that brought me to tears. Mr. D rubbed my back with stinky old lady back cream and got me set up with a heating pad, 3 ibuprofen, and 2 shots of tequila... I relaxed enough to read and sleep a little but this was like the 10th day in a row that I ending up sitting on the sofa... teary... like a ragdoll. I feel like I have wasted what could have been a "happy vacation holiday time with my wonderful husband" to feel sorry for myself because I don't know how to relax and let go of the crap that is causing all this emotional and physical pain.

When I got to the spa (I have now graduated to only real spas) I talked to Lisa... a tiny sweet girl that looks EXACTLY one of Mr. D.'s pretty ex-girlfriends... which is sort of weird... I briefly told her about the pains and the stress and that I recently had 2 m/c's... (strange how that always eventually pours out of my mouth like vomit...) She was very sweet and left for me to get undressed... I lay on the table and realized that it even hurt to lay face up on the massage table... (that is how tight my shoulder muscles are..) And as Lisa entered the room... the tears started again... She was very quiet and soothing... as she offered me a tissue and started my massage. I suddenly felt reminded of the last time I felt hot tears rolling from my eyes down the sides of my face and into my ears... the ultra sound table... it was the same kind of cry... dark room, clothes in a heap on a chair, and trying hard not to cry out loud so not to make the other person uncomfortable... at least this time there was soft music...

After my massage I felt better. I looked like shit.... my face all puffy... as I paid Lisa gave me a quiet hug and whispered "take care of yourself..." I hope didn't make her feel to weird... I am not sure if they teach you how to handle a crying recurrent miscarrier on your massage table at massage school... but if they don't then Lisa has good instincts.

I cried a lot in the car on the way home. I am still in the begging phase....

"Please God... take this pain away... please let me feel normal... please let me be a good wife and get over this before Mr. D. can't take it anymore... Please God... I get it... ok.. I don't get it... but I am trying... Please... cut me a little slack here..."

Notice that I didn't pray for a baby. I just want to feel like plain old me again... and the last time I remember feeling like that was last Valentine's Day.