CRY NO MORE

 

CRY NO MORE

Reality of life hit me when I graduated from school. My favorite view became my room ceiling while I cried and overthought the ‘What Ifs and Whys,’ thinking maybe I was worthless and didn’t deserve anything, which is why my life was slowly falling apart. I was that girl who never went broke; I always had something to fall back on.

I always used what I had to get what I wanted, my writings. My tale behind being a Tell that Talks in chapters, lines, and stanzas. My means of making money. Even on days I felt blank and experienced writer’s block, I’d write, even if it was in the middle of the night when I got inspiration from a dream or suddenly woke up at the sound of a pin drop in the dead of the night or the invading full moon that peeked through my window, reminding me of how beautiful nature is. So I would sacrifice my sleep to satisfy a client who wanted to put a smile on a loved one’s face while I daydreamed of when I would get the same feeling. A girl does have to survive though, so I strove to thrive.

Then slowly, it felt like I couldn’t do anything anymore. I didn’t get writing jobs, and some would even mock me, saying, ‘What are you writing up and down? Get something better to do!’ They wouldn’t understand, and I didn’t plan on making them do. After all, there were people who were proud of me, even strangers. I had a goal, and that was my main focus, not the thoughts of people towards me.

My biggest facade was my big smile. I always had love to give, helped people in whatever way I could, reached out to people while I slowly lost myself and wallowed in self-pity, crying my eyes out till I had no tears left. Would you blame me? No matter the truth I said, many thought I had the best life ever, and I didn’t know why. Is contentment a bad thing? I was only grateful for the things I had and still am, but should that put a barrier to getting help or growing? Moreover, I wasn’t the girl who talked about her problems with people since the days I had experienced bullying from talking out loud and was told I overreact a lot. But sadly, I only wear my heart on my sleeve and say it as it is, and never take it till the next day. I had no strength for grudges, but that was also misunderstood, so it was pointless discussing my problems. No one was ready to listen; I get everyone is facing their lives but I grew tired, and slowly, I started distancing myself away from people. Then I realized I really had a lot of people around me because I always reached out to them. My bedroom became my favorite hangout spot while I went days with no one checking if I was okay. I badly needed a ‘How are you doing?’

One fine day, I stood in front of the mirror, shook my head, while tears dropped from my eyes. My beautiful eyes had lost their color from too much sadness, and my face had gone pale. And I told myself, ‘You are a lot more than what you’re going through.’ A phase that will pass by but not in sadness or self-pity. Pick up your pieces, turn it into a whole, and find your peace in what you love doing most. After all, Maya Angelou said, ‘Out of the huts of history’s shame,
I rise.
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain,
I rise.
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.’
So why beset myself in the gloom of what I can’t change? Rather, I should turn my lemons into lemonade while I rise and still give all the love I have to give to everyone in the world. No matter how much I tried to not check up on people, I still did. Then I realized it was in me and no one can take that away from me. My ability to create time for the people I love and not only when I’m less busy because they are always in my mind.

I started with drafting out different ideas on how to distract myself and find something worth doing. Then I remembered, aside from writing, I am a good cook and bake well, so why not put that to use while I learn programming and become excellent at it? Whenever I started feeling low again, I’d turn to my prayer mat for comfort and slowly, I started healing with God as my greatest comforter. My sujood is a witness to my discussions with the best listener and healer. Uhmm, prayer is very therapeutic.

My journey to rising while I fell and rose again is slowly becoming a chapter, a book of β€˜No Cross; no crown.’ Maya was really right, ‘Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.’

I’d Rise,

Tella Ayomide
Telltalks✍️

Loading

0 0 votes
Story Rating
guest
1 Comment
Oldest
Newest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Shanu Tiwatope
Shanu Tiwatope
1 year ago

Thank you for sharing this.

Scroll to Top
Download Story Time App OK No thanks