I’ve been putting on an act. An act so big, so great that I even have myself fooled. You see, most days I travel through life in a little bubble of school, friends, and homework. Anxiety happens and I get through it. Or so I thought.
I am not okay. I do not, by any stretch of the imagination have my anxiety under control—though I act like I do and thus convince myself of it’s accuracy. All the while, I’m actually just internalizing everything. But what’s internalized must always come out and that usually happens late at night when I’m by myself.
Take for example, last night, a great night. I hung out with friends, played some games, and everything was fine. I was smiling, laughing, and though being around close to 30 people in a small room overwhelmed me, after a little break I was back at it. Fast forward to 1 am. I’m in my room, alone of course and everything falls apart. I mean, an avalanche occurs, my mind transforms into a battlefield filled with landmines. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve said in the past comes rushing at me and I can’t control it. I try to reign it in. I try to foster positive thoughts, images but I’m still left without armor in the middle of World War III. I never make it out unharmed.
I’ve been putting on an act and I will continue to do so. It’s the only thing I know how to do. It’s so automatic, even counseling doesn’t help—by the time I get there, my act is in full swing. I’ve gotten to a place where nothing helps except acts that leave scars on my arm and…
I am not okay.
Until next time,