I’ve always found that when people would say “I’m crying on the inside”, they were just being foolish; the entire idea behind that phrase and others implies that you’re going through a ton of shit and you can’t help but close emotions off from the outside, and parade around with a smile instead of displaying your true colors. Not to say that I’ve never done this, but I’ve noticed that I’m fairly honest about my feelings when I was capable. It hurts to simply cover and bottle the raw emotions up like others seem to do on a regular basis, and I’m all about destroying the conflict within myself as quickly as I can manage. I don’t do well with lingering torment, so I toil to eradicate any internal poisons before it became hostile and deadly in the long run. That is productive and fine in my mind, but I also have a bad habit of turning a blind eye to the smaller bugs. Since these are less of a bother on my radar, they become easier of a pest once they start multiplying.
There are times that when things fly to stab me in such a short time and all at one single time, so much so that I can physically feel the strain of their weight pilling deeper and deeper inside, but once again I’ve trained myself to either release that tension so I can devote more of my mind to destroying the pending problems, or place them all on standby in the back of my mind until I have the mental capacity to answer for it with precision. As I said before, it’s the little things, however that elude my grasp and control.
I wear my emotions on my face, which is another reason why I see no need to be dishonest about what’s really going on in the event that someone asks or if I notice something silently troubling me. Though, not wanting to troubling anyone with my individual trials, I find it easier to give them the extremely common “I’m fine, I just didn’t get enough sleep last night”, but afterward, I’ll be honest with myself and review the very things that are actually plaguing me at the moment. But after a while of people not caring enough to ask, I’ve become numb; disconnected from my own conscience is probably a better way to put it. I stopped being as vigilant about keeping my mind and emotions in check and balance as I was before, and simply beginning to throw EVERYTHING to the back for later revision. I stopped facing things in the moment, and doing exactly what I wanted to initially avoid in the first place. Now, not only were the smaller bites beginning to grow in their sting, but more and more stresses introduced themselves as unwelcomed guests in my heart and later, stated invading each second of my waking life.
Similar to how I burst into tears after being told that I performed well on the job, there is a definite hunger for certain words. Encouragement from people of all areas of my life, whether lover or co-worker, father or brother: those things are sought out and coveted until I’m starved into being numb to my need for it.
I’m growing tired, but to make this entry short and to get straight to the point, a German woman who works security for our passenger terminal building noticed a strange look on my face, like a grimace. “Is everything alright?” The question was a common one, but it struck me with such ferocity, I couldn’t see the wound it left behind right away. Oh man, that cut deep… “Yes, I just didn’t get enough… Everything is fine, no worries!” I scraped together a timid smile to reassure her that there was no further prying that needed to be done; that I’ve just “hit a rough patch” in my sleep routine and that was all. All I could do was stare to the side and think about nothing. I couldn’t understand what was beginning to well up inside of my chest, and why my breathing began to shorten out from my nose.
Don’t cry. To my best efforts, I kept calm and quickly changed the topic away from my facial expressions to try and lessen the burden of my inclination to overthink things through. I realized for a brief moment that nothing was alright. Nothing was going well, and the disconnect I felt from my emotions and the fact that I’ve put everything on a shelf to never properly deal with flooded back too quickly. I couldn’t handle it. Without a whimper or a grimace, a single tear escaped my left eye, but I was still too locked in my internal rambling to notice at first. Upon realizing, I wiped my face and laughed everything off, hoping the woman hadn’t noticed my subtle slip.
I’ve never had to chock down tears so hard before in my life.
Having a blank mind when I space out has never fared well with me, especially in my personal effort to conquer my own mind’s silly and primitive inclinations. I don’t wish to ascend, I wish to conquer and master myself. Learning who I really am has always been a goal, and I will continue to do what I can to understand who I am and who I was made to be. Realizing this is thankfully a step forward in the right direction. At least, that’s how it seems at the moment.