Having a panic attack.
Being pushed closer to the edge by every small thing.
I’m trying so hard.
So hard to smile.
To push through.
To take another step.
To wake up, get out of bed.
To enjoy life.
To enjoy anything.
“Hello! Good morning! Happy almost weekend! What can I do you for today?”
“Of course honey, dinner is almost ready.”
“Yes, the bills are paid and the grocery list is made.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just a thing, give me a minute.”
“Yes, I have taken my meds.”
Eight steps backward for every half step forward.
Feeling guilty and full of shame for not being able to be happy with my amazing life.
I’ll get better.
I have my good days.
I just need to be able to remember them.
Remember that this is not the only way that I am capable of feeling.
Remember that there are only so many tears to cry.
Remember that there are better days ahead.
Now, just to convince myself…
After I make myself do everything that I should do…