If only a tear would fall

If only a tear would fall I know that I would feel better.
                                                                               I am tired of not crying. I know that sounds silly. I mean most people don’t want to cry but I do. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Why? Because I know that if I could cry just one tear I would feel better.
                                                                           But I can’t. Not through want of trying. I have curled up in a ball. I have hugged a teddy bear. I have tried to let the tears come but they won’t. They just won’t.
                                                                               I am too scared. I have not cried about the abuse since I was 13 years old. Not since the day my mother betrayed me. Not since the day I was sent back. Not since the day I realised just how alone I was in world. Not since the day I first picked up a blade.
                                                                           On that day, as a 13 year old child, my mind went into self protection mode. Crying made me vulnerable. Too vulnerable. I had to protect myself and the only way to do that was to shut down emotionally.
                                                             Everytime he hurt me I would close my eyes and focus on the physical pain. If I could jist make it through the rape, the torture, I would be OK.
                                                          Afterwards, when alone, when emotion set in, when the tears wanted to come, that is when I would take a blade to my arm. That is when I began training myself not to cry and not to show emotion.
                                                                          For twenty years I haven’t shed a single tear about what they did to me. I haven’t cried about my mothers betrayal or the hurt she caused me.
                                                                          For twenty years I have been creating new wounds upon my body. Each scar telling a different story. Showing a different pain.
                                                                          For twenty years I have protected myself. I have not let myself feel the pain of what they did. I have not let myself feel sadness or anger or fear.
                                                                       Until now.
                                                                          The moment I walked into that police station was the moment I once again became vulnerable.
                                                                        That was the moment that every feeling, every emotion, every fear that I had been hiding for twenty years came flooding back.
                                                                         One by one a new emotion hits me; fear, sadness, anger, hurt.
Over time they begin to build within me crushing my chest as they do.
                                                               Emotions so intense that I can barely find the words to describe them.
Emotions so intense that even my blade no longer brings the relief it used to. Emotions so intense they bring tears to my eyes. Yet still I cannot cry. For crying makes me vulnerable. Crying takes me back to that scary, lonely place.
                                                                               I want to cry so badly. I want to release this pain and sadness but it is like my mind goes into self protection mode all over again. I am once again that frightened 13 year old girl.
                                                                            Do not be fooled by the smile on my face. Just because my eyes don’t cry doesn’t mean my heart isn’t crying.
My heart is crying and my soul is dying. Invisible tears are the hardest to wipe away.
                                                                      Tears fall because the heart can no longer handle the pain. My heart is broken into a million pieces. How I wish I could shed a tear, just one lonely tear.
                                                                    Maybe then the memories will no longer be scars on my wrist but will instead be tears rolling down my cheeks.
                                                                          For I know I would feel better if only a tear would fall.
                                                                    Thanks for reading
**The above image is my own**

4 thoughts on “If only a tear would fall

  1. All your pieces are moving. I’m so sorry for your pain but your words, keep writing them. While you cant yet shed a tear, you can shed your words. I’m so sorry for all the pain you have been through and are currently going through. You’re not alone. Keep doing what you’re doing, while you’re doing what you can on the outside, slowly slowly, the inside will heal.

    Stay strong. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you xx
      Your kind words mean a lot… especially right now while I am struggling. I hope you are right and that I will heal because I am terrified that I won’t.
      Thank you for being here for me xxx


  2. I understand all to well the desire to be able to cry. There are times, usually when I am in my therapy session , that the urge to release my tears becomes strongest – but it’s typically when my blocks are the strongest. It amazes me that I can cry over silly things at times, but not for the important stuff like my memories. I keep trying and I figure that when that big release finally happens, if it ever does, I’ll cry for a long time. As a teen, I would only cry when I was alone in my room, in the darkness, and with music playing. Those defensive blocks that we built to survive then, are really difficult to let go.


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