Just when I thought that life was dealing me with hard blows, more blows came along. I questioned the meaning of life. I questioned the meaning of existence. I questioned why my life was so hard. No matter how hard I asked, there was no reply from the walls of my bedroom.
In the stillness of the night, huddled on my bed, protected by the privacy of my bedroom, I let my tears drop. At first, it was merely droplets. Then it swiftly gathered strength and soon I was sobbing terribly. My face scrunched into the most tormented expression I could muster up. At the same time, I was careful about stifling my sobs in case someone in the house hear it. It was not entirely successful as a few sobs would escape.My poor little dog lied down quietly besides me and had a bewildered look in his eyes. Well, it wasn't the first time he witnessed me launching into these occasional intense tear-releasing and cleansing episodes.
When I was a teenagers years ago, I thought that holding my tears back was a sign of strength. Now I know that tears work for me.
These days, I cried at reading inspiring stories. Goodness, when I dug out a copy of "Chicken Soup for the Couple's Soul" and reread it recently, I couldn't believe how I cried at almost nearly every story. Before I could dry up my tears and began the next story, the tears came again. Unbelievable.
Had the control switch over my tears been switched off by over the years?
What I found amazing and amusing was that, tears soothed me. I learned that crying was a form of relief therapy for me. It comforted me in an unexplainable way. I cried when I'm moved. I cried when things got overwhelming. I cried when I felt extremely frustrated. I cried when I missed my boyfriend terribly. And I usually chose to cry at bedtime when others were in bed.
Pieces of tissue would be wasted to dry up my tears. Sometimes it's too much and I had to walk quietly into the bathroom to wash up my messed-up face.
The next morning, though feeling a little worn from last night gut-wrenching sobbing session, somehow I felt renewed and a sense of lightness of being. Magically, things didn't seem that bad anymore.
I still missed my boyfriend very much but at least he's alive and breathing from thousands of miles away. Things were still frustrating but I had to admit they weren't life-threatening. Of course my obstacles still remained but they didn't appear as impossible as last night. I'm still alive and I took it as a sign that I have more to live and to give.
My footsteps became lighter and as I walked, I could even mentally check off a list of blessings in my life right at this moment. I'm grateful to be alive... I'm so thankful that I'm healthy... I'm so thankful to have a loving family... I'm so happy and grateful to be doing work that I enjoy...
I knew that no matter how happy I was at one moment or how desperately anxious I was at another moment, life still went on.
I recalled from the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding", where there's this bellman who delivered my favorite line from that movie, "My grandmother always said, 'This, too, shall pass'."
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