Crippling Emotions

A young girl runs away to find freedom in expressing her emotions.

            Sitting in the sand with my legs crossed, I let the beautiful silence wash over me. The beach is surprisingly empty tonight, but I have no complaints. I close my eyes and breath in, instructions given in almost every self-help book to help ease my anxiety. I used to tell myself that I wasn’t anxious, but the tremble in my fingers and my unsteady heartbeat seemed to tell me otherwise. My therapist said that acknowledging the problem was the first step. But she didn’t know what that meant to me. To my family. She didn’t know the arguments that would come to pass and haunt me for the rest of my life. Words stricken with fear, anger and resentment buried in their undertones, tearing my lungs out of my chest and leaving me unable to breath. But she didn’t know, so that’s okay.

            I breath out slowly through my mouth, unknowingly twisting my lips in a way that would produce the loudest whistle. I never could whistle as a child, and the sound terrified me in the most innocent way, causing me to stop and check my surroundings. The laughter that bubbled through my chest was a foreign sound. I was known to chuckle sometimes, but this laughter caused my chest to tighten, mimicking the horrific squawk of a barn owl, only the owl sounded better. The knot in my chest grows wider, and I can feel the formation of tears making their unwanted appearance. My laughter turning into sobs, turning into blood curling screams, turning into silence once again. The ability to feel my emotions without being ridiculed is something I’d never dreamed of. It’s the most empowering sensation that I’ve discovered along my journey. If I have any regrets at all, it’s that I didn’t run away sooner. 

Reviews

[wordman]

the makings of a wonderful story