A SIGN OF NOT-DEAD

And then one day, I found out I could cry.

 

It wasn’t what I wanted, what I longed for so badly I couldn’t breathe some nights as I lay there clutching my blanket, wishing with all my heart as I stared at the black, blank ceiling. I wanted the sunshine, I wanted it inside me, to fill that airless hollow among my ribs where all my feelings had been roughly scooped out by everything we’d been through.

I didn’t want to cry, feel this wrenching pain. I wanted to laugh, and have the echo ring through my empty spaces again and again and again, never ending. But when those first tears fell and I sobbed until my stomach was sore, I realized: they are not so different, crying and laughing.

 

If laughter is to feel what it is to be alive, then crying is to know you are not dead – because you can feel something, after all.

 

~ Stacia Joy

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3 thoughts on “A SIGN OF NOT-DEAD

    • I wasn’t necessarily crying about anything when I wrote this piece several years ago. My body just rediscovered how to cry. And for a while that was all it knew how to do. I’m now learning how to cry about things – and learning when it’s appropriate to do so.

      I don’t think it’s necessarily wrong to not be able to cry. Mental and emotional illness in of themselves are not wrong.

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      • I don’t have a problem with crying. I guess I just don’t feel anything anymore. I think the last time I cried was 8 months ago when the cops got me conscious after my suicide attempt. Nothing since then.

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