The Emotional me

I used to be a very emotional person. Believe me when I say very emotional, I mean hyper, super mega emotional. I cried so easily one would have thought that I had a pool of water just behind my eyelids. Every little incident would leave me trying to blink back tears and in most cases this failed woefully. I’d cry myself out. It was so bad.

I used to kid myself and claim I was a strong person. But later, I had to admit even to myself that I was very faint-hearted. I know that I put a mean exterior but that was in a bid to prevent people from discovering my fragility.  Maybe I did it unintentionally because at no point did I ever think I was weak. I simply thought I was misunderstood.

I spent most of my time crying at trivial things. It made no sense. I’ll sulk for the most unreasonable things. I couldn’t understand it.

I failed terribly at arguments. When discussions got heated, I’d get so emotional even if the matter at hand wasn’t personal, I’d get angry. I’d get so angry, I would be unable to speak, my voice would start shaking so badly that I would start stuttering and if I tried to force it, I’d burst into tears. It was so embarrassing; I can’t count the number of times I cried like that. I didn’t know how to get rid of the situation and I didn’t want to come across as a weakling.

The first time my emotions really got to me in was in my fourth year of secondary school. It was a Wednesday and at that time schools closed at 1pm on Wednesdays to allow for sports. I don’t know if that is still the case. I was responsible for keeping the classroom clean on that day and while I was sweeping my assigned row of the classroom, someone hid my school bag. Upon finishing, I couldn’t find my bag and all efforts to get anyone of my classmates to admit that they had taken my school bag proved futile. I was already getting to my last nerve when one of my classmates blurted that my school bag had been taken by my ‘lover’.

When I heard the word lover, I just broke down. I was 13 going on 14 at the time and I thought that was the worst thing anyone could say to me. I was a good girl; never had anything to do with boys and someone was insinuating that I had a lover. My tears started flowing endlessly like a fountain. By the time I made my way to the disciplinary office, I could no longer speak. My voice came out in little gasps, my nose was runny and I just couldn’t breathe. All this happened in a space of 5 minutes.

I thank God for the patience of the Discipline Master who was there when I arrived and attended to me. He didn’t offer me a glass of water, such luxuries only exist in develop countries I’m sure. But he soothed me well enough and gave me time to calm down and explain to him what had happened. I don’t know what I said but he understood me in the end and the guy who had mentioned I had a lover was suspended for 3 days for trying to ‘corrupt’ me.

Ok, I admit this story may be unbelievable but that’s just how I felt at the time and that is an example of just how emotional I could get. Sometimes when I think of this incident, I cringe. I can only imagine how my classmates looked at me after this incident – as very immature, I’m sure. There were other incidents after this and trust me they were just as weird as this one. I think another word I should use is that I was a crybaby. I’d spend time locked up all alone crying myself to sleep for no just cause.

There were other times when I was strong through. I didn’t cry on my first evening at boarding school when I was told to stand on my seat and prevented from having dinner. I didn’t cry on the day when I was gripped on the neck by a senior student for not washing a dinner pot when I wasn’t the one who supposed to do so in the first place. I didn’t cry when one of my classmates called me ‘very dull and stupid’ (trust me words like that always cut deep). I was getting stronger because ordinarily these things would have made cry and gotten me depressed for a few days.

But when I got to the university, I had to admit that I still wasn’t that strong. In my second year, I was dating this guy and it was more of an on again off again relationship. I wasn’t yet ready to have sex and he didn’t think I was worth the wait. So one day during our off times I saw him walking with another girl. I cried myself silly that day. On another day, I went to visit him and met the same girl at his place. Needless to say, everything ended that day but not after I’d lost myself in my sorrow and had a few weeks to depress myself.

I didn’t date anyone again until after I graduated and worked for another year. Things didn’t end well with this new guy as well but I was so hurt that I thought I was going to die. I became depressed, cried and got insomniac. I wasn’t sure that pain was ever going to pass away. My friends tried to cheer me up and downplay the situation but I just couldn’t feel better. To date, I think this is the worst emotional pain I have ever had to endure. I can’t write about that here but I’d probably do so later. I’m sure I lost more than a bucket of tears. Time went by and I started feeling better. I knew there was no way I could get so hurt again. I felt stronger.

And in truth, that was the turning point for me. My crying reduced drastically, my bouts of depression dropped. I could face steamy arguments, talk loudly till the end to get my voice heard. That little fragile and weak girl was gone just like that.

2 years later, with the incident with Miles, I was hurt and I cried but I just know that I was stronger. I was surprised at my own strength. It took me one week to accept and put everything behind me. I didn’t cry again and it didn’t bother me so much. Months after, I’d think of it and be a little sad. It’s been one year and though I still think of it because I can’t forget that, I know that with time it wouldn’t mean anything anymore and I’m glad with the way I handled it.

I can very well say that I am a stronger woman. There are things in life that cannot be taught, you have to go through tough times to be the person you are. Now, I consider a lot of things trivial and just smile. It’d take a lot to get to me. I still have emotions; I just don’t let them control me.