I’ve always hated seeing people weep of heartbreak. It’s like my heart automatically tumbles and weeps with them, leaving me with a heavy throat and lost words. Seeing the people you love so hurt makes you feel helpless, because you know in that very moment nothing can take away that type of pain.
The morning we got the call about my dads passing, I remember being woken up to my mom on the phone crying and saying, “no no no,” repeatedly. If the tone in her voice wasn’t the sound of pure heartbreak, I don’t know what was. You could feel her hurt, her loss, her heartbreak. I never want to feel that again. I knew what happened before she even told me. My friend Lindsey and I were “asleep” on the couch when my mom came to wake us up to tell us Lindsey’s dad was coming to get her.
I was nervous for Lindsey to leave because I didn’t know how to handle my moms heartbreak. I didn’t know how I was going to react, and all I wanted to do was stay strong for her because I knew it would only hurt her more to see me break down, and that’s the last thing she needed. Once Lindsey left my mom pulled me in close and held me, asking me if I already knew what happened. I remember shaking my head and her hugging me tightly while she cried. I shed a few tears, but it was more-so because it hurt to see my mom so sad. Growing up, it was always just my mom and I. My dad came around when he chose to, and I had a great relationship in terms of having fun, laughing, and going on adventures with him. But in terms of my parents, my mom played both roles. She was my best friend, my confident, and now all I had. In that moment, I was so upset to see her so crushed that I didn’t truly grasp my dad was gone.
As time went on people constantly asked me if I was okay, which I appreciated, but it made me feel like I needed to stay strong because my family was looking out for me, my teachers were looking out for me, my friends were looking out for me… everywhere I went it felt like I had a sign on my forehead that said, “please look after me, my dad just died.” I hated feeling like people had to worry about me. So I maintained a positive attitude, kept myself in high spirits, and focused on other people’s lives to take some of the attention off of what was going on with me. I dealt with my sadness when I was alone. And I still do.
My dad was full of life. There was something about him you just couldn’t get enough of. And regardless of how much of a father figure he was to me, I will never forget how much of an impact he had on me and others. I will never forget how much he aggravated my mom and how much they loved each other even though they weren’t together. I will never forget how mad she would get at him and how he would somehow ALWAYS be able to get her to laugh. I will never forget how his energy changed the room, and how much I loved having him around because of that. From what I remember, he made the most out of life. And from doing that, he made a huge impact in a lot of people’s lives.
It wasn’t until we were leaving the funeral that I realized he was actually gone. My Uncle Ray pulled me in for a hug and that’s when I lost it. After seeing all of my uncles who are so zestful break down, after I had watched my mom and Grandma Neice fix his braids, after every person to step in the funeral home gave their condolences and asking my family and I if we were okay. That was really the only time I had broken down about his death in front of anyone. And I haven’t broken down about it in front of anyone since.
I’ve never been one to cry easily, and when I do cry it’s usually because it’s been building up for quite some time. With the loss of my dad being the first emotional trauma I endured, I think my sense of feeling the need to stay strong when times get hard was implanted into my emotional responses – leaving me with too much control of my emotions in terms of what I allow myself to feel and what I decide to block out to remain strong.
In February 2019 we received a phone call notifying us they are re-investigating the case to see if the repulsive man who is locked up for my dads murder is in fact the right guy.
While I cried here and there on my own, I haven’t truly grieved him. I didn’t go through the process of denial or anger. It was like once I put on the hat of remaining strong and fighting the hurt/pain, I kept that on and anytime those type of feelings would arise I would just shut them down. That phone call brought back feelings I have fought off my entire life. That phone call started the mourning I pushed away for 13 years. That phone call shifted the way I deal with my emotions, and re-introduced me to heartbreak, denial, anger, and all of the emotions that come with loss.
I spent the first few months angry at my entire family. Including my mom and my Uncle Ray, who were the only two people I felt comfortable talking to about this. I bawled and yelled at my mom on the phone, and I lost my cool in front of Ray, bombarding him with questions and snot. Since that call in February I’ve just been letting it all out for the first time, and honestly, it’s felt great.
2019 was an eye-opener to how the way we deal with our emotions affects us in the long run. It was a year of reflecting, reliving, and remembering both the traumatizing and soothing memories of my life. It was a year of gaining better understanding about how I feel about certain situations, and how to understand my emotions enough to allow myself to feel, but not lose control. To maintain strength, but to be vulnerable enough to let the feelings come.
At the time, I didn’t realize how much receiving that phone call was going to affect me. The drama with my dads case is still underway, and it probably will be for awhile. And while it’s unfortunate to go through all of those emotions with the family again, I’m also thankful it’s happening now that I’m older because it’s given me a better understanding of what happened, and how to heal.
Emotions are powerful, and I am proud to now be in-tune with mine. While I am crying way more than I ever have before, (yay me), I also feel more whole than I did before. I have moved past old, bitter feelings I had towards people and allowed myself to start fresh in those relationships. I have realized what relationships were toxic and took charge of who and what I give my energy to, and parallel to doing that, the meaningful relationships I already have, have only grown to be stronger.
Since allowing myself to feel, I have gained better understanding of who I am. And that’s the most rewarding part of being an emotional wreck.
Going into 2020, I look forward to feeling. I look forward to understanding myself better and having a better idea of what has shaped me into the person I am today. I look forward to healing wounds I might not have recognized yet, and I look forward to continuing the process of healing from childhood traumas.
Feeling is therapeutic. Sure, it can be hard sometimes. But a life of feeling the good, bad, and ugly will always be remarkably better than feeling nothing at all. It’s important to be gentle with ourselves, but also be real with ourselves in knowing what triggers us. My mom always said, “nature is cheaper than therapy,” …so now I built myself a little at home garden to cry in, haha!
Thank you for reading.
xoxo,
Mal ❤
Inside Mallory's Brain 