People keep asking me, "how are you?", or they keep saying, "I can't believe how strong you are", or "how well you are holding up", but the truth is, I feel like a mess inside. I'm no different than anyone else though. I hurt, I feel pain, I cry. I mourn, but I suffered through depression for twenty years, many of them without medication and I learned that by suppressing my feelings, they just fester and burst out like a bottle of Coke that's been shaken and the cap left on. I'm not strong, I just have a good, tight fitting mask, that comes off every night when I crawl into bed and goes on every morning before I step out of my room. Actually I take that back. I do feel like I have gained a little bit of something I never had before, my Mama's strength and the I'm-not-going-to-take-your-sh*t-attitude. Yeah, she wasn't big on swearing, hence the *. I guess it is a little shout out to her, since I am sure that even though I ...
We all have a voice that has something to say.