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Mate, if you want me to start crying, just ask me about my thoughts on Lord of the Rings or Astrid Lindgren.

I can go from completely normal to ugly crying in a span of seconds once these two topics are brought up.

For me and many of my family members, it is a curse and we a embarrassed by it when it happens, lol.

I have had to flee a room a few times when something sad was happening because I am incapable pf controlling my emotions and I don't want to take focus away from those who are dealing with something heavy in the moment. The worst case was one time while I was still getting my degree and the coordinator of my class came in and told us that one of his close friends and founders of our course had been found dead. My teacher at the time then asked us all to hug our neighbor and say something nice to one another and I just so happened to sit next to the class teddy bear who turned to me with this warm, tender look and was like "aw, Nangijala, I appreciate you" and then he started hugging me and I fucking exploded. Got up after the hug, ran to my coordinator who was fighting back tears himself and told him how sorry I was for his loss and then I fucking booked it and had to fight to calm down for a frigging hour before I could rejoin the classroom.

I have had a few situations like that and I absolutely hate that I can't control myself and be a good friend who can comfort another. I have to leave the room because if I don't I will bawl so hard that everybody will start to feel obligated to comfort me and I hate it.

I later volunteered with a classmate to sort through the dead guy's stuff because our coordinator inherited most of his things and for good reasons, he just couldn't do it himself. It's a strange feeling to sort through a dead person's things. It is weird that finding his diaries weren't what felt like crossing a line. It was when we opened a box with his clothes in it that I felt like I was getting way to close to someone else. Words on a page that you accidentally read at a glance before putting it into a box is nothing. Holding the clothes that was on someone's body at one point and smells of them and has a bit og wear and tear on them, that is just something that makes every alarm bell in your body go "NOOOOOOO". it's such a strange feeling. I suppose you'd know it if you have ever sorted through a dead person's things. It is very emotionally exhausting. @,@ but yeah, I felt I owed my coordinator after making a scene.

The latest experience I had was when a close colleague told me about how one of his children's classmate had passed away before the age of ten from cancer and how they had gone to the funeral. The entire time I was trying to not get emotional because this was my colleague's experience and his sadness, but when he mentioned the priest's speech about how nothing would ever be the same and that this was a terrible loss I completely broke down and he had to comfort me. It is an actual curse to be as sensitive as I am and I'm not even the most sensitive person in my family. We are utterly cursed. Just writing this comment had the waterworks sputter to life again.

On the other hand, what you describe doesn't sound great either. I can't imagine what it must feel like to be trapped with these emotions and not being able to express them even though they hurt just as much as they do in people who can cry. If sounds like a different kind of hell!

I'd love to give you a bit of my crybaby vibes if you give me a bit of you stoic ones. Maybe we would both become more balanced people, then 😂

I don't think he minds. He's a pretty chill dude, luckily.