I cried

I woke up. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through Instagram for a few minutes. I stopped, went to YouTube, and watched a Bible Project video. I pray then lay down. I don't remember what I was thinking, but I remember that I was numb. Something wasn't right. I need to write, I thought to myself. I get my journal. I open it and write a few sentences. I stare at the words. I stare. I stare. Something isn't right. I lean back on the wall. I'm numb. I'm numb. I'm numb. I'm nu–right before you cry something happens to your body that tells you that you're about to cry. I don't know how to describe it, but all of a sudden tears form in my eyes. I put my hand on my mouth. I begin to sniffle. I can't cry. I knew I couldn't stop myself, so I decided that I was going to cry alone in my room. My cry began to develop in to a storm. My arms and legs, moving on it's own grabbed my pants and put it on. No, no. My mouth calls my brothers name, "Emmanuel." My cry deepens. I was a thunderstorm. Rain fell from my eyes. Thunder boomed from chest. I walk out of my room, my hands on my face. Emmanuel rushes towards me, panicked, "Hannah, what's wrong?"

Crying doesn't make you weak, it makes you whole. It's oddly refreshing. Crying cleanses you.

There was something going on with me. It's hard to explain. I don't know. I cried because I woke up sad and I felt like I wasn't good enough.

To be honest, I wasn't quite sure what I was crying about. But this sudden something just came over me. I don't know.

My mind is weird. I think there's something wrong with me. I don't know.

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