Breathe

Before now, I wasn't one to count on “one..two..three, take in and air out” and I don't also do the mind pressure game to keep cool. I react to the slightest pitch of pressure.
On another note, I could get a pass for being a good multi-tasker when it comes to work, so far have been great at working under pressure, which could come from a result of working since my teenage age.

But different is the case when it involves emotions. As perfect as my working technique is, they could rotate on anti-clockwise if affected by the slightest bit of emotions and that would be me shutting down for the day.
As much as I hate to say it, my emotions were my weakness, and it would have been okay if it was just known by me but then it was a weakness exposed to everyone with eyes and trust humans to take advantage. It became so bad to the point of tearing up in the presence of a large congregation and even after when secured within the four corners of my room, I still ended up tearing up for embarrassing myself in public.

I hated that face. I hated being self-pitied or being soft, it was the opposite of my imagination.

To confess, one of my childhood imaginations; was to become a wrestler..lol

Back to reality, My emotions made me look weak and certainly blended with my facial looks. I'm no feminist but I hated the idea of women appearing weak whether in fiction stories, movies or even reality I was the opposite of everything I believed. At first, I tried replaying my mom's words in my head when she said “I don't expect you to feel this way, not after your dad” Which somehow calmed my nerves a little.

Talking about my dad, he isn't much of a disciplinarian, but he's one with a frightened voice especially when he's angry, and my mom had expected me to do better since I grew up with a dad like mine.
I couldn't defend myself in an argument all because I could barely utter two words before my shoulders started shaking in silent tears, i bet I could have lots count on trophies if they'd give a “best crybaby of the year award”. But all that stopped the very day I jumped over a story building.

That's probably the highest I've been pushed to going mad and am certainly not doing it again because I had to barcode not just with emotional hurts but physical pain too.
I will always remember that night as if it's been yesterday.
Not going over the story again.

It was the night I first stood up for myself but lost anyway. After a one-on-one heated argument with my parents as usual my emotions took a turn on me but the difference was I didn't cry to sleep that day. All had in mind was leaving the house but my aunt beat me to it by hiding the keys and my desperation led me to the patio. Even though a story building might appear a low height to some people, my eyes saw it as a carpet.

An Observation; After that incident, I knew suicide feels easier than the name appears because the mind pictures it as a short-term pain to a long-term freedom.

And so I jumped over to later had my right leg dislocated. However, in the end, it gave me the therapy needed to manage my emotions, and I also became a little aggressive. A certain time. I refused to give room to anything capable of triggering me and if it did happen, I learned to blink it back in. My six-month bed rest from my fall led to a permanent change in my emotions and gradually I found myself being in control and installing every effect of the lady-like picture in my head it just took a few amount of breaths to switch from once a crybaby over to a confident young girl.