I can’t tell you that I’m not okay. I have to be okay.
I have to be okay because I’m supposed to have beat this. But the reality is, I may never beat it. Some days, I feel okay. Some days are fine.
Most days, my skin crawls. Most days, I don’t want to get up. My head is filled with racing thoughts, that may be irrational, but in the moment, they’re very real.
But if I tell you that, you’ll see me in a different way. If I tell you that, you’ll pity me. You’ll be scared of me. You’ll worry for my safety, you’ll worry I’m not stable.
I can be okay for days, weeks, even months at a time. But then it returns, completely uninvited. I revisit the wrong I’ve done to others, I revisit the things I’m scared of. Scared of losing loved ones, of letting loved ones in, scared of not being successful. I’m scared that others perceive me as a failure, because it came back.
I’m scared you’ll walk away. Or worse, that your eyes will fill with sadness when you see me. Or even worse than that, that you’ll be angry with me for the way I am. And I hate that no one understands.
That’s probably the scariest part. Being alone. And it’s no one’s fault. I know there are a number of people that would be there at the drop of a hat if I needed someone. But no one knows what to say, no one knows what to do, and anyone who doesn’t share the same demons, will never know how I feel.
So I’m too nervous to say today is not a good day.
But tomorrow may be different.