Everyday NhanSense – Day 48

Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.

Day 48’s Topic: Crying.
I don’t cry very often. Correction: it’s more like it’s hard for me to as an adult.

I know it’s probably because I am a guy, and with that social stigma looming that says that guys can’t cry, I probably am conscious of keeping my eyes dry no matter how sad I get.

Allow me to explain. I can say with complete and earnest truth that I am not a crybaby, at least in the sense that I do not outright bawl my eyes out very often, if at all. So physically on the outside, I have not let the waterworks come rushing down the cheeks if I can help it.

Now excluding being a baby and a young toddler (every little kid cries, after all), I will admit I was a bit of a wimp at a young age. I do recall crying and hiding behind my mom when I entered first grade and such, but these kind of moments are common and not that big of a deal.

However, I do remember other key moments in my life where crying meant something more.

For instance, one particular memory came back to me out of the blue today when I was waiting at the bus stop. It’s a very random one, so bear with me.

It was late at night, probably 7 or 8 p.m. or so. I was riding my bike around, just playing near the garage when I was like maybe third grade, give or take a grade. I just remember my dad having a mood swing, yelling and spouting something that got me really upset. Like, really, and I do mean really, upset to the point where I bolted off on my bike and rode around the neighborhood for like a good half an hour or so.

He said something in the vein of you are worthless, you aren’t good at anything … blah, blah, blah …

Basically, it rattled me. I was literally still in elementary school. What else was I supposed to think or do?

I rode away fast on my bike and started crying. I didn’t want to let my dad or anyone else see me. Not my mom. Not my brothers. Not the neighbors. No one.

So I pedaled around just attempting to keep the crying sounds down. I was already embarrassed enough as it was that I was a bicycling crybaby. It took a lot of effort to keep the sniffling to myself, to hide my red eyes and damp cheeks when I finally made my way back home to retreat to my room downstairs.

And the whole time, I just kept thinking that I needed to be tougher, at least when it came to this kind of stuff. Let’s just say the situations where I would burst out and cry my heart out were few and far between from this point onward. Even to this day no less.

I was nowhere near impervious. I was nowhere close to being immune to all the aspects of holding tears back. I learned to keep most of it to myself.

But if you were to sit down and scrutinize my life, I definitely had my share of moments where I should have tucked myself in a corner to cry for hours and hours. Heck, years ago when my depression got really bad, one thing I really wanted to do was cry and let everything come out in floods, but I couldn’t.

Not a single teardrop. Nothing. Dry as the desert.

I even tried to force myself to cry out from frustration. It didn’t happen.

These days, with life looking better than the bleak circumstances that anchored me down, I guess I have fewer reasons to cry, but there are those seldom, yet noticeable, moments where I feel sad enough to have a breakdown still occur.

What’s there to be sad about? You tell me …

“Get good. Be better.” – Nhan Fiction


5 thoughts on “Everyday NhanSense – Day 48

  1. estherlou January 30, 2015 / 11:48 am

    It is always odd and surprising when those childhood memories pop into the forefront and get out attention. They are sometimes about something negative or something painful. As bad as they were, they helped us become who we are today. Personally it has taken me over 50 years to be comfortable in my own skin but I realized I’m ok. Sounds like you are too. I enjoyed the post. Thanks for sharing.


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