My Mask

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Show Must Go On.”

My mind has all these funny stories about those times in high school when I would dress up like some cartoon character and wander about a stage.  A giant kangaroo in a children’s play, a Coptic Priest makes funny faces while Fiddler on the Roof played out, maybe it was the time I just sat there and watched the product of months of my work unfold on Stage.  Acting had become second nature to me years before any of these events, masking my emotions in ways that have destroyed the person I might have been.

That game of lowering your hand as you change facial expressions no longer an option.  It only works for small children and annoying mimes!  I love my friends, so much so that I keep thinking the mask is helping.  But who?  Not them and certainly not me.  It’s taken me 2 hours just to get to this point in my posting.  Constantly erasing the words so that I don’t have to face my emotions.  Acting like if I don’t write them then they don’t exist.  Silly Boy!!!

I’m afraid to tell someone, anyone, possibly everyone that I am scared of this cancer.  Why let them know I cry for them daily, not for myself.  The reality of needing people a tough one after the year I have had.  I didn’t give them a choice when Whitney left, I said I could handle my world.  Please ignore me, stop talking to me if necessary so that she could have everyone’s support.  It wasn’t that I didn’t need them, didn’t want them around; but the mask just slid back into place.

There is someone’s whose words have always offered me counsel and I shut the door to them.  I don’t know how it would have played out, I don’t know if there was anything to be said.  But I took away their choice, maybe they wanted to help me?  How many other people have I done that to?

I hate this mask.  Painting on a set of emotions I don’t feel.

Those days when I can post something sweet, ethereal are times when I promise by the end of it I’m crying.  Parts of my friends in those passages, parts of dreams that I realize are never going to come true for myself leaving my heart and entering the world in the only way I can.


4 thoughts on “My Mask

  1. You’re not alone, sweetie. Yes people will come and go from your life, even people you care about. They might still love you, but not everyone can face cancer, it’s scary for them too. But they will be replaced by others who “get it”. That’s what the life of cancer is all about. hug

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s not so much about them leaving as it is about giving them a choice. Whitney walked before I had a chance to tell her, maybe she knew what I kept trying to sit her down for. But she left anyway. That alone colors my opinion. It’s not fair to my friends or family, my deciding for them. I just fear them doing the same.

      Liked by 1 person

      • I worry that your fear is keeping at bay someone out there who might want to open their compassion to you. And also the effect this terrible loneliness has on you, and you shouldn’t have to be alone through this.


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