Belated Tears

By , Fairfield, CT
I feel pathetic. Through everything, I haven’t cried. Not once. Not during the car accident, not during the bulimia, not even the depression. My eyes have watered, my lips have quivered, but never once did I shed a tear at my hardest times. My mom says I’ve been strong and that I always was strong. I like to think of it as mastering the art of control…Of course, I took out my frustrations and anxiety and fear and pain in other ways hence the depression and bulimia. But today, out of nowhere, I cried. I sat on the floor, head resting on the wall, arms around my knees and I cried and screamed not expecting anybody to hear me. God knows the last time I cried so hard, this hit me harder than that speeding car. I cried for all the times I didn’t. For the time he chose her instead of me, for my grandmother who’s soul rests in heaven, for everything and everyone that I’ve done wrong. 2 hours straight, that’s what I did. I feel pathetic because I’m crying at time where for once I don’t need to. But then, I realized, everybody needs to cry. Doesn’t matter who you are, how strong you are, what you’ve been through or what caused your tears. People say crying doesn’t do any good in fact I used to be one of those people. But as I sat there, way to well aware of the scars all over my body, of the weight I’m starting to lose again, of all the regretful things in my life. Even sitting there in such misery I couldn’t help but think that if I had just cried. If I had just let it all out...my pain would not be marked on my wrists or have affected my body. I would not have had to convince my mother out of once a week therapy sessions.

I realized that from now on I’m not going to try to be so strong. From now on I will always let my tears fall, because all I could say to myself for those 2 hours was wow I should’ve done this earlier.





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