The Mask

 

I met a girl who was all outgoing, with an infectious smile, and a people's person. I needed the same vibe so I followed her out after the meeting for a chit chat. I heard some sobs in the bathroom and I wondered what had suddenly changed. She broke down and vented to me, an audience. 

She finally removed the mask. She was breaking down, her fifth suicide attempt wasn't successful. She was tired. A wounded girl that was forced to fake it until she made it, in reality, was broken pieces. She carried the family's burden and didn't have time to breakdown. She was a girl who was forced to cover the shame of defilement, to undergo the pain of silent grieving because she miscarried her two-month pregnancy. The beautiful presenter had to fight imposter syndrome because she had to battle with the thoughts of not good enough, second-guessing herself, and was at wit's end. 

The mask had finally fallen off.

She was now naked before me and she felt some form of relief.

My beautiful presenter was just a representation of the people in the community who are hurting yet afraid to reach out for help.

She represents a man who was defiled and sodomized at a young age but couldn't talk because of the societal pressure. 

Representation of wives who have to live with the pain of the cheating husbands to 'save' the marriage. 

Mourning for the loss of a loved one whom you should have treated right with love but it was too late to undo the acts.

My presenter represents you. You, who has been hurt vastly by the world. You, who has perfected the art of hiding the wounds for years because men are not supposed to cry. You, who has chosen booze and sleeping around with any Tom, Dick, Mary, and Martha to avoid the pain you felt when they left you. You, who has suddenly gone cold. You, who has lived with the pain of being hurt by the people who should have protected you. You, who is bitter with life because you had to let go of your dreams to fit into theirs but realized it was a raw deal.

But until when will you hide behind the mask. Until when will you bleed on the wrong people. Until when? Until when will you live in your past where things cannot be undone. Until when will you punish yourself? Until when will you push yourself away from loving, living. Until when will you block people who show you affection and care?

It is until you realize, it gets to a level where the mask is too much of a burden to carry. It is until the moment you realize you are human, prone to hurt and be hurt, prone to mistakes but still deserving of forgiveness especially self-forgiveness. It is until that moment you realize, you'll have to deal with your demons, the skeletons in the dark closets where chances of hurt, anger, regrets, joy, and all other emotions will be relived but in the end, it will be all good. That moment, you will be forced to look at yourself in the mirror and save the person you see.

It will not be an easy journey but you've got to heal, you will run for years but it will catch up with you. Allow yourself to heal the wounds. Scars will remain, but they will show how resilient you are. Scars will tell your story. But until you choose to remove the mask and seek help, you will just have wounds that have bled for long and leaving you lifeless. Remove the guise, for you first. It is now, the perfect time.