shedding tears

When I sit down to pray, I cry. I sob, actually. I don't quite know why, but it seems to replace the words that used to come when I would sit to pray.
While it cleanses my heart, I seem to feel my head filling with something else. Something thick and heavy. A velvet curtain of some kind, with large sandbags in the fly. Although it may be for protection, I don't feel entirely protected. Leastwise, inside my head.
My heart feels free.
It's disconcerting, this crying. I don't expect it. Don't feel triggered in the least. It just comes. And goes as quickly and unexpectedly. There was I time when I would wonder about my sanity, but there is utter and pure comfort in these tears. I don't understand it, but I feel it. And I won't stop.