I hate crying. I really do. The raw emotional state of it just makes me uncomfortable, with myself. Although I now know the value of tears, I still despise them. I’ve been taught, like most of us, that tears are bad. A weakness you need to stop at all cost or at least try and keep to yourself. I feel incompetent when I cry. Like I’m not strong enough to take this world. Something I deal with often. Growing up small and blonde peoples perspective of you general has already been pre determined to see you as weak. Crying and showing emotion doesn’t help that image. As a young girl the worlds view of this started to change my view of myself when it came to strength. I began to see myself as weak for having emotions. I fought them off with all I had. When tears would come I eventually learned how to stop them. Bottling up the emotion so deep that no physical signs could reveal themselves to me or anyone else.
See God gave us tears as a release. He made us with emotions for a reason. As a way to express ourselves to ourselves and to others. They give way to the pressures we hold inside of us so that we may be healthy and happy even through our struggles.
Once I willed the tears to never surface I had no release. No way to let out the sadness, anger or happiness. I had messed with Gods perfect design by trying to re-route it into something socially acceptable. Once I had gotten myself to a place that no matter how sad, how angry or happy(although happiness was few and far between at this point in my life) that tears wouldn’t come no matter how hard I tried. I felt as if I had broken His design. I had to find a way around crying because as much as I didn’t want to I am only human and did need hat release of tension, anger and pain. So I began to cut. I traded tears for blood.
Seems like a strange trade. But somehow I had twisted in my mind that this way was better. For one I could keep it a secret. No one would ever have to know I was weak. They would never see me cry. Only I would have to deal with the burden of my emotions.
It became an addiction, like most enhealthy habits. Once I realized it was the only way I could release emotions I had to have it. Had to feel the tension leave my body. We where made that way after all. Our bodies weren’t made to withstand the pain and torture of our minds and emotions over and over again without some way of releasing it. After a little more than a year someone close to me notice what was really going on. And in a way forced me to get right. It was literualy a heaven sent incounter. I didn’t know where to begin but had been longing for help for a long time. I was too ashamed to turn to God as I was raised that your body is a temple and you should treat it as such. My young mind didn’t want to be repreminded for my sins against God and my own flesh. I now know that’s just not how my loving father works. I couldn’t yet grasp that all he wanted was to forgive me and show me His way. Not go on and on about how wrong I had been and punish me for the sins I had committed. And that’s exactly what he did. Forgave me and helped me move on.
So now I cry. I cry when I’m sad. I cry when I’m happy. I cry when I’m mad. I cry so that my children know it’s ok to have emotions and to show them. I cry so that my husband can CLEARLY see when I’m upset. I cry as a thank you to God for giving me this pressure release. I even cry for you, yes you. So that you will know too that it is ok to cry. I cry because I will never go back to the dark place of self distraction that He lifted me out of.