The sound of tears

I'm a silent crier, sometimes there is a gasp to replenish my oxygen, but for the most part, silence. I learned it as a child. It wasn't acceptable to cry in my house, or at least that was the vibe I got. So my crying was done alone in my bedroom. This morning I'm again crying alone in my bedroom, silently of course. I'm crying because I don't want to have to struggle through another day of anxiety. It's just not fun. As I cry, the tears roll quietly down my cheek then drop to the pillow, the only sound being the little plunk as they hit the pillowcase. I had a decent day yesterday. I went to the grocery, spent an hour shopping without much anxiety, walked through another store for a few minutes, went to work, came home exhausted but went back out to another grocery for milk and bread, then later went with my daughter to look at tv's. I cried only once yesterday, as I got ready for work. And it was just a brief cry. Its a little after 10 this morning and I'm still in bed. I don't want to get up and face the day. But I know I have to. There are dogs to be let out to potty, there is my job at 2:00, and its not good for me to lay around and ruminate on my plight. So I will drag my anxious body out of bed and into the shower and hope like hell that I don't get more anxious while I'm showering. Then the usual routine - get dressed, put on makeup, choke down some breakfast, wait until work time, wait until work is done, and then come home and just sit and rock and watch tv. What a full life I have. Hell, that's what it is.