Thursday, October 10, 2019

Still I Laugh


20 minutes into the chat with a new acquaintance, the name of my offspring slips out in an anecdote. This is usually followed by ‘the awkward question’ which over time, I have learned to answer with a flick of my hair. 
The response to this is a gasp, an incredulous look and the stuttered question “how are you still such a cheerful person?” without a pause I often retort “would you rather I sit on the floor with a bell in one hand and a bucket of ash in the other? Would you feel more at ease if I ring the bell every 30 seconds while pouring ash on my hair and wailing as loud as is permitted?”

Over the years, although I have been blessed, lucky, favored and charmed, like a lot of people, I have also encountered traumatic episodes with 'the usual suspects' variety. Ranging from bullying, intimidation and molestation to being suppressed, isolated and vilified. 
Thing is, I survived.
Heck! I believe I am a better person as a result of some of the experiences.

For all the wins and losses, the event that shook me the most was the time I lost my ability to laugh. When the saying “you don’t appreciate what you have till it is gone” became too bloody relatable. 
To miss hearing my laughter, to try to laugh but instead, begin to choke – struggling to breathe because at that instant, I was drowning. 
Water that I could not see filling my lungs with my insides being pricked by a thousand hot blunt knives. Using whatever strength I had left to focus and remain on my feet and not give in to the oh so alluring darkness.  
To helplessly witness the reality I knew shatter and fall around my ears and secretly wish I’d just die along with my past. 
To cry until I was only able to wheeze because I ran out of tears and lost my voice, to need to cry but refuse to give in to the urge to do so because some persons I accepted as kin had held a meeting and decided my heart wrenching sobs was an act to seek attention from unsuspecting folks.

As a young adult, when asked what I believed my best feature was, without a thought, I’d say it was my smile. 
I had an expressive smile that was inviting, corroborative and mischievous at the same time and boy, I could smile for days!

When I heard my laughter again after craving it for so long, I thought of recording it so if I was unlucky to lose it again, I’d have the sound for reference but I decided against it. Instead, I threw my head back and laughed. 
I laughed and laughed and laughed. I laughed for the pain, I laughed for the sign that some healing process had begun, and I laughed because I now knew the value of my laughter.

If you are lucky and do get a chance to chat with me, I’d try to make you laugh and I hope you do the same. 
I do get sad, I do feel helpless and often I spot the dark cloud of depression looking sexy as sin and promising an oh so sweet escape but yes, I am a cheerful person and do relish the vibrations of laughter. 
I’d laugh because I can, I’d laugh without reservations, I’d laugh with my whole being and I’d laugh because I enjoy the sound.
I’ve got just this life to live and I choose to laugh my way right through it.