Can't Force the Flow
The dam is about to burst and I am prepared for the flood, yet a single drop has yet to flow
I really need to cry but it just won’t come. Not in the deep, gutturally satisfying way that I need at least. I’ll tear up, maybe one or two will slip out, drying up before even reaching my chin. I am blocked. Which feels especially uncomfortable because I want to do it. I want to cry! I want to release whatever this is within me that’s clogging me up.
If you have never seen the show “Broad City” I highly recommend. There is an episode all about Ilana not being able to oragsm and feeling that incredibly uncomfortable feeling of an itch that just cannot be scratched.
This feels like that. No matter how I try, it just does not want to come out of me. I am feeling the sadness in every way except crying it out. Which I guess is better than totally ignoring it, however, still not quite as satisfying as a deep, visceral sob.
I love to cry. I think maybe that’s because on a level I absolutely love to feel. That part of me that is from some other galaxy and is just riding this high of the human experience in awe, that part loves to cry. It is simply one of the most human things we can do. Cry, orgasm, laugh. Those things that are real hard to fake. They’re my favorite. Especially when I get to share them with others.
There is something that just connects you with another being, when you cry together. Even my dogs, sometimes we just sit together in sadness. Their crying isn’t quite like ours, but they do it. To open one up in such an intimate and vulnerable way is the most magical piece of our existence. Maybe this is just my high sensitive side talking, but to be able to experience a real moment of emotion with someone else is just…incredibly healing regardless of whether it is “positive” or “negative”.
I’ve spent so much of my life pretending that I am not this extremely sensitive person. I’ve been afraid to say “Hi I am Kelsey and I know exactly what you are feeling” but I do. I have shoved it down, it was wedged at the tips of my toes. I have finally begun to pry it back out.

I could spend so long hypothesizing what led me to being afraid of being who I was. Who I am. I think it would drive me insane however, so I am just leaning into it from here on out instead.
I wanted to be in healthcare from the time I can remember wanting to do something with my life. A real something that wasn’t be a dog. I was always that, “I’m gonna be a doctor” kid. Then “Grey’s Anatomy” came out, and I was going to be a neurosurgeon. Then I found “ER” and Carol Hathaway and I was done being flaky. I was going to be a nurse.
What drew me to nursing, and Carol, was how in it the nurses were. Obviously it was TV, but I was 14 and I will say that having since worked in a hospital, I’d give ER pretty high praise for accuracy for a TV show. The doctors, the patients, the administration, they respected her. They trusted her. Now she wasn’t always thanked or praised, but that’s being a nurse and luckily I am not fueled by any of that. It’s the human part I wanted. To be there with people when they are going through the impossible and be able to help them…breathe. Or if they are near the end, to hold their hand while they take their last.
I can handle big emotions, I can handle them very well. Where I get confused is other people. And I think I confuse them, with my comfort with the uncomfortable. Understandable. I also think that in a profession like nursing, feeling is meant to be secondary. That’s where I struggled in that field. I am extremely sensitive. Not just a little higher than average.
In nursing I felt this block a lot. Created by being inauthentic when feeling my feelings. Jamming them down into my toes just led to clots traveling to other parts of my being. My creativity. My self control. My relationships, physically and emotionally. I didn’t know how to let myself feel like I do now. I didn’t understand who I am like I do now. I didn’t embrace it.
I left nursing. I explored myself on a level beyond the realms of societal standards. I rewound my joy and purpose. I felt the deepest sorrow I can imagine.
I had my phoenix moment and burst into flames.
Now I am rising from the ashes.
I am an intuitive psychic reiki healer. This is how I have found my peace, my safety. My way to flow even with my blocks. My power. How I learned that no matter how blocked you feel, there is, on a microscopic level, a flow happening. Nothing is ever not in motion.
So now here I am, aware of myself and my feeling, aware of how to feel the feeling, in a safe space to feel. Yet, I cannot fucking get myself to just break the fuck down.
So I am not going to. I am not going to force it. I am not going to nudge that boulder out of the way of the dam. I am not going to put myself on pause.
I think there is a new lesson in this feeling. I think maybe I have evolved to a newer level of feeling. Perhaps, I have a dam now with reserve access for when I do need to feel, deeply and safely. Maybe, this is what being an energy healer is, having a reservoir of love. What is sadness, or any feeling, if not love?