Yeah, I was trained not to cry at a fairly early age. I don't know exactly when it started, but I cannot recall a time when my crying wasn't used as a pretext to mock, humiliate, and (victim-)blame me. By everyone, my parents especially. No matter how I was hurt or by whom, the message was clear: it's your own fault for being a crybaby and a weakling. By the time I was twelve or so I had mostly learned to present an impassive front to the world not matter what happened. (And, incidentally, to keep anything that mattered to me hidden and locked away from everyone.) In the half-century since then, the most I have ever managed was a misting-up of the eyes or, very occasionally, a few silent tears for a few seconds. Sadness I can do, though only internally. Depression: there, I'm a trouper.
The last few decades, I have felt the loss. I've tried to let myself go many times, when hurt or sad, but I can't. People say that when you're on E, you cry a lot, but I've been on it for six months, and so far it hasn't worked. Sometimes I think I killed off the part of me that could cry; I envision the corpse of an 11-year-old lying in the crypt of my soul.
Any suggestions on how to unlock that part of me? (Onions, maybe?
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