Life can be so overwhelming. Being a person of faith does not eliminate that. You can believe and be overwhelmed. I didn’t know that. For years, I thought projecting an attitude of, “all is well,” was what I was supposed to do. However, all I did was mask my trauma and hide myself from the world.
No, I do not recommend wearing your feelings on your sleeve. But, there is safety in accepting who you are and what you are feeling—-in the moment (or at least there should be). I was taught, indirectly so, by life and leaders that crying was a sign of weakness. Although I wanted to cry and release some of the hurt, I also wanted to be seen as the obedient congregant who was obeying all of their teachings.
So, for DECADES, I didn’t cry. Then, I decided that my feelings were not valid enough to express the truth in situations. I knew people had lied on me, but I never confronted it. I knew my “friends” were only clients who didn’t get charged, but I never complained. I knew that if I didn’t call, text, or reach out that I would never hear from most of the people that I considered friends, but I never dealt with it. I thought that that was my plight.
I became numb to my own feelings: I did things that I didn’t want to do. I laughed when haters teased me for being talented and I took my gifts and ran off the hill and into a dark room. How I felt about me was a direct reflection of how people treated me.
But I kept going.
Where was I going? I didn’t know. I had desires that were backed by gifts, but I saw no worth in them, and when I finally did, I reasoned that it was too late. I often questioned, why did all of these things happen to me? The collection of trauma was a load that was causing me to break.
Then one day, faced with mountainous debt, despair, AND depression, I cried. It was an ugly, violent, throaty, gut punching, cleansing, healing, demon killing cry! I felt like each tear was aimed at some part of my history that I needed resolved.
I feel the need to cry, now.
In the midst of this pandemic and civil unrest and all of this death—-I need to cry. In the midst of this political foolishness and the pawning of this world’s humanity for followers and likes—- I need to cry. In the midst of the unveiling revelation that at the center of this despair will be motherless and fatherless children born out of boredom and desolation—-I need to cry.
I need to break up some this soil that has hardened in my heart from a little bit too much information and too little transformation. Besides, what good does it profit us to gain access to information and lose our opportunity to become transformed? Changed. Enlightened. Restored and then restarted.
I don’t know about you, but I need to desperately cry.