Carried in Silence. What I couldn’t tell anyone, I told… | by _gtrhgwn

I don’t even know where to start. Tonight just feels different. While scratching my head (I’ve got chicken pox right now, so it’s itchy), I felt it again — that bump. But this time, my head feels… different. Like the shape changed somehow. Or maybe it’s just me. But I swear it feels bigger. And when I touched it, it hurt.

I’ve had this bukol at the back of my head for years now — somewhere in the middle, going downward. I found it back in Senior High. And now, I’m already in my second year of college, still carrying it quietly like a secret.

No one knows. Not my family. Not my friends. Just me. I never told anyone because it didn’t hurt before. I thought maybe it’s just normal. Maybe nothing serious. Maybe I’m just overthinking.

But sometimes I remember: cancer runs in our family. My aunt had a brain tumor before. It wasn’t cancerous, but she had to go through radiation. She healed. But years later, she got breast cancer. I watched her fight. Check-ups, radiation, chemo, surgery — all of it. She survived. She’s a fighter.

Me? I just stayed quiet. I let time pass, hoping my bukol would disappear. But then the headaches came. And then the weird feelings — my hand like it’s being shocked, half of my face feeling numb. I told myself it’s just stress, just school, just pagod. But what if it’s not?

Still, I stayed silent.
Because how can I tell my parents? They already have so much. My father with his prostate problems. My mom with her own symptoms — both her breasts have bukol. She says she’s going for check-ups, but she doesn’t tell us much. Only Dad knows.

And here I am, not telling them about mine either. I don’t want to add to their problems. I don’t want to be a burden. Some days I already feel like one.

So here I am tonight, writing this down instead. Maybe to remember, maybe to get it off my chest, maybe because these pages don’t talk back.

The bump feels different now. Bigger. It hurts a little. I still don’t plan to tell my family. Maybe one day, when I’m brave enough, I’ll go to the hospital.