Chukwukwe Eugenia Adaku
This Is Why You Feel Pain
The first five seconds after you wake up are the most peaceful ones. It is when you just opened your eyes, your dreams are still lingering with the reality and you are unaware of the chaotic day that you’re about to face. You stare at the ceiling, disoriented. For five seconds, you have no idea who you are or where you are or what happened before you sleep. For five seconds you are innocent about this world like an infant, freshly taken out of his mother’s womb, crying. You are crying. You don’t
know why you’re crying. Before you know that five seconds is over and the waves of the truth come crashing in, drowning you with memories that you try so hard not to remember.
This is why you feel pain. You keep on recalling the pain no matter how many miles you run away from it. You are quiet tears and stifled sobs. You are,.“Don’t worry, in the morning you’ll be okay.” but you never were. The picture of your distress, more vivid than ever. It never blurred. But you drag yourself out of bed. No matter how heavy your heart feels because of its hidden beats. You go out of your room. Even if your every step sounds like a cannon
shot for every misery that was remained untold. You look at the mirror, seeing all the remnants of the battles you have been. Today is another fight. So you wash your hair. You brush your teeth. You do everything to conceal the warzone that you are. You do everything to be normal.
This is why you feel pain.. You are stuck in a routine of everyday life. You do every mundane thing with all your might only to feel empty in the end. Your fear is to be unremarkable for the rest of your days. They say, this is the safe side. This is how it should go. You go to school, get a job, get married and live happily ever after. But you ask yourself, is this living? That hollow part inside your chest was never filled by the regular tasks that you have
accomplished. You feel so uninspired. So dull. So common. You crave a different kind of success and you are not quite sure how or where to get it.
You ride your daily commute. You watch people as they hustle through the busy streets. Their heads bowed to their smart phones. You wonder if they are bleeding as much as you are. You wonder if they are dreading to end the day just like you. You wonder if any of them is your home. You like the little instances of being inside a vehicle because these are the only moments where you are sure where you’re going. You like the certainty of the
destination because all the time you just feel lost. So misplaced. So clueless.
This is why you feel pain. You just don’t feel like you belong anywhere. It’s like your pieces are too much or too little. You were never enough to fit. You have convinced yourself that solitude will be your ultimate company. But you are still longing for the day when you will no longer be a table for one or a Friday night pity party. You are still hoping that someday, you will come home to a pair of hands who will shelter you from the tragedies of the world and a pair of ears who will tirelessly listen to all your stories, no matter how long or brutal. You just want to go home.
You try to lay out all the activities that you should do. And God, why is everything so heavy? God, you can’t carry all of these alone. God, you just want to scream because of too much desperation. But you don’t. You conceal how everything is weighing you down. You wear the mask of having everything under controlled. “You do this,” you say to yourself. A chant that you are too tired of whispering.
This is why you feel pain. You don’t like burdening anyone with the weight that you’re carrying on your shoulders. But when they are the ones who ask for assistance, you willingly catch everything for them. Not minding the amount that you’re already bearing..You feel like everyone needs anything from you but when it’s your turn to scream, nobody listens. You just want to be heard, don’t you? You just want to be read in such a way that you wrote your words.
You called your best friend just so you won’t have to be a stifled sob anymore yet you heard him ramble about being happy. Happy. A word that you doubt you will experience. It has always been lonely or melancholy or sad or silence— because sentences fail to come out of your mouth when your hearts start shattering endlessly.
This is why you agonize.. None of them understand. They keep on reducing your feelings into an emo Facebook status or an overreacting Tweet. They keep on telling you that they’ve felt it too when the truth is you don’t want to be relatable, you just want to be acknowledged. They keep on saying that others have it worse when this is not an Olympics of being miserable at the first place.
In the end, you just want to let out all the storms that have been going on inside you. You just want to wear your heart on your sleeve without being judged of how ragged and damaged it looks like. You just want to admit that you have your weak moments too. You just want to ask for help so you won’t suffer anymore….