The countless hours I’ve spent exercising to burn off anxious energy to feel calm again.

Medication I swallow each day in order to keep me from panic. Pills that if I don’t take them, the consequences are severe.

The various stints I’ve spent in counseling. The time sitting in groups or AA meetings seeking help.

The lonely hours I’ve spent quietly crying instead of lashing out when I feel pain — or when someone intentionally gets close enough just to cut me in the end.

Various phrases and the plethora of breathing exercises that I use near daily.

Sketches, songs, stories or simply anything I’ve created in times when, instead, I’d rather destroy everything.

But you don’t ever look at me long enough to see all of that, or how it all wears me down.

You never stay near me for enough time to notice when I bleed for the “normal” you get to so easily be.

You’ll never know how hard I try.

---

OTHER POsts