I was dumbfounded when I became conscious to the fact that I was laying across my sister's bed in the dark, twitching and cringing and holding myself together.
I buried myself under my hair, tears water-falling with each moment I allowed. And I tried. I tried my hardest to be as quiet as I could for her not to hear me. I let myself take tiny, panicky breaths through my mouth, knowing that if I breathe through my nose, she'd hear me cry. So I fought with myself, curled in my toes, pulled at my own hair, bite down the covers, and took what was after me. I cried and I cried and I cried like a little BITCH. I felt embarrassed for myself, laying there silently and curling up what was left of my dignity. My head was pounding, so I kept on pounding on it, but the tension and weight of my cries just earned me this headache of the century.
I knew that if she heard me, she'd try and make it better. And I don't know why but the thought of that made me feel worse. After an hour of that, I was drowning in my own tears, snot, and saliva. Her covers were drenched in my bodily fluids and I couldn't find any more ways to breathe. So I forced myself up, thinking that a shower would fix this. But as I switched the lights on and saw myself, I was horrified. I saw my eyes, bleeding and begging red. I'd forgotten how I looked with tears. Ridiculously, I stepped in the shower. And before a minute could pass, my breath faltered. I caught myself trying to grasp at the tile walls of the shower, finding a steady breath, and water and tears stinging my eyes. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand why it was happening. I was in the shower, trying to compose myself, cleaning myself, and I ended up crying my way through shampoo and conditioner. I felt incredible shame at that point and didn't know what to do. Tears kept rolling, and I kept shaking.
I got out of the shower then, stared at myself again in the mirror. Except this time, my eyes were even redder and I was naked and wet. I gathered myself then raced into my bedroom before anyone saw my water works. Then I sat down, shivering and shaking and rocking myself back and forth. Once I sat down, I thought I'd calmed. But the silence was only the calm before the storm.
From then, I found myself hyperventilating and feeling myself lose consciousness. I pressed three of my fingers over my eyes, pressing down on the tears that would not give a damn to stop. I did this until my breathing steadied again. But as it steadied and I grew quieter.. it wasn't over.
Immediately and with out warning, I was washed over with the sobbing of the ache inside me. I sobbed and I sobbed good. I made the most hideous sounds and faces that I could ever make and let myself go. I didn't ball my fists, or curl my toes, or put further pressure on my head. I just cried like the sounds were coming from my diaphragm; projected and spacious.
After, I caught myself. I sat down, tears only at the brim, then got up to put clothes on. And now, embarrassed to be seen tear-stained and bloodshot, I went into the bathroom and found the excuse to put on the green, gunky mask that we wear every now and again.
What I learned from these hours of my life?
I learned there's still no one else that could make me cry like this, could make me feel like this. And to think that I'd brought this upon myself tore me apart. I couldn't stand the fact of disappointing the one person I can't bare to ever disappoint. And to think that I've disappointed you with out even realizing that I had.. made me sick. This is still..the one thing I'm incredibly and helplessly sensitive about. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't be this vulnerable. It's exhausting and embarrassing. This can't ever happen again.
You said crying makes you feel alive, but for these passed hours, crying only made me feel like dying. But as always, Life goes on.
I buried myself under my hair, tears water-falling with each moment I allowed. And I tried. I tried my hardest to be as quiet as I could for her not to hear me. I let myself take tiny, panicky breaths through my mouth, knowing that if I breathe through my nose, she'd hear me cry. So I fought with myself, curled in my toes, pulled at my own hair, bite down the covers, and took what was after me. I cried and I cried and I cried like a little BITCH. I felt embarrassed for myself, laying there silently and curling up what was left of my dignity. My head was pounding, so I kept on pounding on it, but the tension and weight of my cries just earned me this headache of the century.
I knew that if she heard me, she'd try and make it better. And I don't know why but the thought of that made me feel worse. After an hour of that, I was drowning in my own tears, snot, and saliva. Her covers were drenched in my bodily fluids and I couldn't find any more ways to breathe. So I forced myself up, thinking that a shower would fix this. But as I switched the lights on and saw myself, I was horrified. I saw my eyes, bleeding and begging red. I'd forgotten how I looked with tears. Ridiculously, I stepped in the shower. And before a minute could pass, my breath faltered. I caught myself trying to grasp at the tile walls of the shower, finding a steady breath, and water and tears stinging my eyes. I didn't understand. I couldn't understand why it was happening. I was in the shower, trying to compose myself, cleaning myself, and I ended up crying my way through shampoo and conditioner. I felt incredible shame at that point and didn't know what to do. Tears kept rolling, and I kept shaking.
I got out of the shower then, stared at myself again in the mirror. Except this time, my eyes were even redder and I was naked and wet. I gathered myself then raced into my bedroom before anyone saw my water works. Then I sat down, shivering and shaking and rocking myself back and forth. Once I sat down, I thought I'd calmed. But the silence was only the calm before the storm.
From then, I found myself hyperventilating and feeling myself lose consciousness. I pressed three of my fingers over my eyes, pressing down on the tears that would not give a damn to stop. I did this until my breathing steadied again. But as it steadied and I grew quieter.. it wasn't over.
Immediately and with out warning, I was washed over with the sobbing of the ache inside me. I sobbed and I sobbed good. I made the most hideous sounds and faces that I could ever make and let myself go. I didn't ball my fists, or curl my toes, or put further pressure on my head. I just cried like the sounds were coming from my diaphragm; projected and spacious.
After, I caught myself. I sat down, tears only at the brim, then got up to put clothes on. And now, embarrassed to be seen tear-stained and bloodshot, I went into the bathroom and found the excuse to put on the green, gunky mask that we wear every now and again.
What I learned from these hours of my life?
I learned there's still no one else that could make me cry like this, could make me feel like this. And to think that I'd brought this upon myself tore me apart. I couldn't stand the fact of disappointing the one person I can't bare to ever disappoint. And to think that I've disappointed you with out even realizing that I had.. made me sick. This is still..the one thing I'm incredibly and helplessly sensitive about. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't be this vulnerable. It's exhausting and embarrassing. This can't ever happen again.
You said crying makes you feel alive, but for these passed hours, crying only made me feel like dying. But as always, Life goes on.
