We can’t cry anymore. We shed tears, occasionally, but never more than a couple moments worth. I miss being able to cry. To sit and release those emotions and feel the physical release.
We’ve tried to encourage it. Listening to sad music, watching scenes from shows that we know used to inspire breakdowns. But none of it works. We’re trapped masquerading as someone who is ok, who doesn’t want to curl up and let the heartbreak out. We’ve lost the ability to have that communication between our heart, our mind, and our body.
I think that’s why we’re so tired all the time. We’re carrying all this emotional weight, and we have no way to relieve ourselves of it. We’ve lost our Rosetta Stone, and I don’t know how to find it again. All we do instead is add to the burden as we continue to try to process everything from the past, while simultaneously trying to ensure we don’t destroy the present.
I hope to find it someday. If nothing else, to feel better internally, behind the mask. Wanting that release is terrifying. At this point, if we somehow ended up crying I don’t think we’d be able to stop, not until we’ve let out however much pent up emotion there is at the very least. It would be messy, and malingering thoughts whisper that it would be too much for others to bear witness to.
But at this point I think it’s necessary. I’m tired of holding all of this, and I want to put it down. I just don’t know where to set it or how to unclench my fists. To take a moment without tasting trauma on every breath, is that too much to ask?
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