Am I Human?

“Crying is fine.  It makes you human,” says my favorite asian at PT.

“I hate it.  It shows weakness.  I have to be an emotionless asian,” I respond.  He laughs at my seriousness.

This past Saturday, I cried the most times that I have in awhile.  It wasn’t because I was sad, angry, upset or even that hurt.  It was because I couldn’t help it.  Apparently getting hit in the head a few more times than normal during a rugby game can make one of the most stoic people burst into tears at the most ridiculous moments- if someone comforts her, asks her what’s wrong, or after she screams at the whole rugby team to clean up their dishes in the dining hall. 

No, I’m not bipolar or have a hormone imbalance (actually, I might); I have a FUNcussion- my friend says it was caused by a climax of fun.

Showing my true feelings and emotions has been a recent void in my life.  I use humor to mask my sadness and discontent while I usually ignore my anger.  It’s my fool-proof, 100% healthy way of dealing with anything and everything from quarrels with friends and family to heartbreak to doing poorly on tests.

I justify my [lack of] reaction to wanting to portray myself as easygoing & up-for-anything while living a “c’est la vie” lifestyle.  However, I’m actually one of the most OCD, anal people I know.  I get flustered and annoyed at the smallest things, I follow deadlines and schedules like it’s my job, and I write people off if they don’t abide by my plans and rules (yes, I’m aware I sound like a horribly spoiled brat).

When I was younger, I cried because of everything: my sister taunted me, my parents didn’t understand what I wanted even though I never said it aloud, my grandfather refused to purchase me a bunny, etc.  Every emotion was followed by waterworks, which then resulted in snotworks, heaving, puffy eyes- a true transformation of beauty.

It wasn’t until high school that I realized that I needed to grow up and stop crying.  I made bets with myself to see how long I could go without crying.  Weeks turned into months.  The longest I went was 7 months- quite an impressive feat if you considered what I grew out of.

I associated not crying with being strong and independent and that crying is for weak, emotional people.  I told myself I never wanted to be a weak, emotional being ever again.

Nowadays, I carry my new-formed opinion with me wherever I go.  I put up a front that I’m a heartless, emotionless, soulless bitch so people will respect me and take me seriously.  I pretend I don’t want love, affection, and a boyfriend so that guys know they can’t break my heart or take advantage of me.  I act like nothing can phase me no matter how severe and or important it is.  Unless you’re my friend and I thoroughly know you, I probably won’t open up to you on a deeper level.

This seems like a horrible life to live for some, but it’s how I’ve learned to cope with my emotions.

As I rethink about what the PT asian said, I can’t help but wonder if what I’ve become is actually the person I want to be.  Am I really less human because I make myself not cry or feel?  Am I somehow cheating myself of what I could potentially be?

Even rereading this frighteningly cliche post makes me cringe on the inside…

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~ by pandaextraordinaire on May 2, 2011.

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