People will tell me, I wish I could be like you!, or You’re such an inspiration I don’t know how you do it all. I wish I could tell them the truth, that I’m hurting too. I’m not a perfect person. I may look like everything’s great but I cry; I cry all the time.

I mastered the art of putting my walls up so when people ask me how I’m doing I can let out a soft smile through my teeth, I’m fine, I’m just a little tired or I’m hanging in there. When really I’ve suffered three panic attacks before noon, I cried in the shower, and I forgot my favorite pen at home.

I’ll second guess myself when sending messages because I don’t want to come off as weird or a stage five clinger. I’ll work myself to complete exhaustion so I won’t have time to feel. I’m so used to living in fear I don’t remember what it’s like to just…..be.