I used to love to cry.

I used to love to cry.

I never found anything wrong with having a good cry. You do not make a playlist titled ‘In Need of a Good Cry’ if you do not like to cry. You do not put ‘crying’ on your list of ‘healthy ways to deal with stress’ if you do not like to cry. (It is number 6: between taking a walk and dancing in my underwear.)  

Six months ago, I would feel a good cry coming on from days away. This tension would build in my chest, knots in my back, shaky fingers. The only thing that would take this away was letting my stress out. But since I am stubborn I would not let this itching to cry get the best of me. I would hold it back, trying to be strong, until one day at an unknown moment, I would break down. Yet when it happened, I would feel this pressure being released from my chest. As the tears ran down my face, I would feel more alive, more beautiful. I would feel real and emotional and scared. But I would feel good.

Now things are different.

I feel ready to break down and cry all the time. When it hits me, I cannot hold it back and I cannot pretend to be strong. I give into the tears because they control me and I let them willingly fall down my face. I don’t feel beautiful or real, I feel weak and pathetic because I can no longer stop after five minutes. And I do not feel better afterwards. I feel so much more empty afterwards because I know that it will only be hours until the tears come again.

I want things to go back to the way they were. I want to not be stressed out all the time and feeling like a breakdown all the time. I want to be done with school already. I want to be stronger than I have been and give myself credit for where I have come from.

I want to feel like myself again.