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She never thought that she'd break down in tears, not now at least, when everything is like a fever dream. But in the way dreams feel real, this felt real too.
Everything that bothered her, every feeling she felt, perhaps it was all too much. In between her school work, her secular work, taking care of the house chores and the new puppy, her mind had no time to rest. Sure her body did, although very lackingly, but her mind never seems to stop worrying, and being anxious about every little thing that happens in life.
She'd just receive the news from her parents in the hospital. "Suspected malignant tumor." Was she supposed to freeze? To cry uncontrollably? To be the strong one in her family? To be the reliable one?
Her mother expects more emotions when they arrived home that day, but how does one show empathy if there's no more emotions left in her? Truth be told, she really didn't feel anything when the news broke. It was another illness to shrug off. Well, she'd shrug it off if she were to be the one with cancer. But people don't really do that, do they? They gather around and cry, making the already bad situation even worse, but somehow, it was supposed to help. The thing is, her parents tried to act nonchalant about it. So she thought: "Why should I worsen the situation by excessively showing emotions?" Plus, she had time to process and compartmentalize the news, to digest and be of sound mind to decide what to do and how to react. Maybe that was what her parent wanted her to do. To be humane and panic.
Alas, she has taught herself to maintain a calm composure. A facade, one might say, that she has been using to shield herself from excessive pain. Which included her parents. The very same parents who wants her to show emotions now, were the parents who shamed her from having such emotions. And all the emotions held inside the facade finally found a small hole to flow out of. Not small, not big either, but just enough to flow.
It hurt. Being accused of making mistakes. Accused of being heartless, of being cold. Of being every single thing you aren't. Being accused that the mask that saved you is cruel, ugly, and hideous. Accused of becoming something that you despise, that hurt the most. And that was the catalyst.
Incapable of bearing all the emotions, she just squatted down in the middle of the room, sobbing. Crying bitterly over the fact that she never knew where it all went wrong. When did the girl her parents turned into a rotten and bitter person. At first it was quiet sobs, then the breathlessness disappeared, but the tears kept flowing and flowing. She couldn't pick herself off the ground. The whole world seemed to loom over her, ready to fall and crush her anytime it wanted to.
And she? She's me.