Let.It.Out

I was thinking today that it’s been a ridiculously long time since I last cried. I know it sounds rather pathetic, but what I mean is, it’s been a long time since I got all these memories and fears and stress out. I’m afraid that if I keep it going like I’ll end up having a nervous breakdown at some point, as I never seem to open up enough.

Stephen said that if I can’t cry it’s probably because I don’t need to, but I do actually. I need that a lot, as I’m shit at these yoga, zen things. I just wanna cry everything out but I can’t. Sometimes I may shed a couple of tears of anger but that rarely happens anyway, and it’s not considered crying.

I’m talking about the real mess, the one when you need to be alone with lots of tissues and good music. Maybe some photos too. Or papers. Or virtual saved archive or whatever. Now THAT is the best cure ever. It bloody hurts but you feel such a huge relief afterward. I am one step away from turning into one of those desperate girls who actually make efforts to cry. The lowest I’ve gone so far was to just stare blankly for a few minutes thinking about everything bad/painful/shameful but I felt nothing more than a weird stitch in my chest and shaky hands.

I am under the impression something important happened and that something is what stops me from crying now. You know, like people who suffer traumas then stop speaking or lose their memory. Oh well, I can’t really say I’ve been through that, but God knows (actually not) I haven’t been myself for several days after that last time I cried. Sheesh…

A few months ago I dealt with severe nightmares, and I don’t mean the kinda nightmare when you’re running late for work. Nah. I mean horrible nightmares. Then I went through that ‘trauma’, and I stayed awake for three freaking days cause I was too afraid to go to sleep. Then everything stopped – the nightmares, the crying, everything. It’s like I’ve become numb. No matter how mad or sad I get now I can never let it out and I blame that event for it..

The last time I cried my arse off was somewhere during November of last year. It was when I realised I’d never talk to J again – when I realised he would never come back. Not then, not ever. He just disappeared like.. I don’t know, like you’d never think it can happen. I remember how I read thousands of texts and archives and letters and it hurt like hell but as hard as it is talking about it now (which I never do by the way..) I don’t feel like crying at all. It’s.. I don’t know, it’s gone. It’s all gone, ha. As funny and absurd it may sound.

So, yeah.. I haven’t cried in a while. Six months now? Damn, that’s a long time for a girl.


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