The "Loud" Silence

My mother died...I guess that brings a huge aura of awkwardness to those who hear it.

...Till now, it feels somehow unreal. I want to curl up into a ball and not think about it, let sleep claim me and allow me to forget about it.

But I cannot...Everyone expects me to move on, and that is life...

There will be a time for tears...a time for the nearly crippling pain of loss...but not now, not yet. If I can just keep it together for a little while longer...

But it's hard. Memories keep intruding...her smile, her voice, her presence...

...but then, the dreadful silence fills the house every day.

A physical body of what she used to have, but fragments of bones and ashes that was what remains of her that left.




I cannot imagine the intense fire burning her body in the crematory, melting her skin and flesh. That was my only mother being burned to ashes.




I guess people just don't know what they are talking about when they ask others to "snap-out-of-it", when they never witness their mother dying slowly in the hospital and to watch their mother slowly being pushed into the furnace to burn her body.




It was like a horror movie to me you know, for a child watching his own mother being burned and reduced nothing more than to ashes and bones.




I guess it's really funny how I can remember how people tried to comfort and console me, giving me words of assurance that whenever I need help, they will be there. But a year passed, people can easily walked passed me without giving me a glance, like I simply never existed.

Maybe they don't know how to help me, but it's okay. But just please don't ignore me...

There is such immense pain, yet there is emptiness...A paradox that I can't quite understand...

I am all alone. The house is quiet. The regrets sink in. I am always at a war of head vs. heart.

I don't know if I'm getting better or just used to the pain. I know it seems like I'm this strong person who can get through anything, but inside I'm fragile. I've had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I'm afraid of is shattering.

People are always telling me to smile, like as if smiling is going to just take away all the hurts and pains. Well I've tried that. I've tried hiding my sorrows and covering the sadness in smiles and what I've learned is that when it hurts this much inside your heart, it always has a way of showing it no matter how many masks you wear. There's a smile on my face but I don't know why it's there...I put it on to satisfy all the people that don't even care.

Every night before I go to sleep I lie on my bed and stare up at my blank walls. I try to imagine the future, but right now it's as blank as those walls. All I can see is a past that I barely recognize any more.

It sucks you know. When everything is doing fine then it all crashes again. And the worst part is, I really don’t want to try and put it all back together again but I have to.

I guess it’s true the people who act happiest and laugh the most in company are very often the loneliest people. Sometimes the person who tries to keep everyone happy is the loneliest person, but I guess no one give a crap about it.

I wish things weren't so confusing. I wish I liked myself. I wish I wasn't so insecure. I wish my thoughts wouldn't kill me. I wish I could just escape. Better yet, I wish I could disappear.

What is depression really? Is there one concrete definition, or has the meaning loosened as our generation has continued its downhill descent? To me, depression is simply my life. I'm not suicidal. I'm not a cutter. I don't hate the world. I don't dress completely in black. I'm just sad. I've been sad for what feels like my entire life, but that's not true. I was happy once and I can vaguely remember what it felt like, but I can't touch it. I can't get that happiness back, I don't know how. That's what depression is to me, knowing what happiness is, but never being able to touch it, to feel it.

One of the worst feelings in the world is loneliness. Sitting in the dark by yourself in the wee hours of the night gently crying. Nobody knows what's going on with you. How could anybody realize what's happening? Everybody you know is resting peacefully in their bed waiting the new day tomorrow. But for you, there's no difference in the days. They pass monotonously. And before you know it, it's all gone.

No one can see the pain what we hide, they're happy for us to keep it inside, our fear is our own; they don't want to know. Why should we involve them; why should it show. In reality, I'm slowly losing my mind. Underneath the guise of smile, gradually I'm dying inside. Friends ask me how I feel and I lie convincingly. Because I don’t want to reveal the fact that I'm suffering. So I wear my disguise till I go home at night and turn down all the lights and then I break down and cry.

So many people in my life expecting me to be a certain way was too much pressure, as if I'd been held against a wall and interrogated for hours, asked questions I couldn't quite answer any longer.

I feel that my faith at times is wavering...I kept all my questions about God from my peers, so that I would not waver their faith and make them disbelief in God...but, I am really afraid that one day, one day I will stop believing in God...

It's okay if you all hate me or get tired of my melodramatic issues. I understand.

I just want to go "Home" quickly. Life doesn't seem to interest me anymore. I have lost my mom, and I am afraid of losing my dad. I have no other hope than Christ. I feel like I am living in a fleeting moment of my life, watching the world passing by.