Some days I am on top of the world.
Only a slight nagging at the back of my mind.
Other days I force my mask.
Putting my smile up.
Choking out laughs.
Small, silent tears then.
Some days I'm simply not strong enough to hold it.
It slips and people ask what's wrong.
"I'm tired" I reply.
It's true, I am tired.
I am exhausted.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
Physically.
I am tired of loathing myself.
I am tired of sinking so low I can't see the light anymore.
Those are the days I sob.
But those, aren't my worst times.
Most nights I lay in bed shaking because of a panic attack.
Most nights I can barely breathe as I choke out sobs between gasps.
Most nights I simply want to not exist anymore.
I don't want to live anymore, but I don't want to die.
I want to live a life instead of mechanically moving through motions.
If I can't have that I don't want a life.
But I won't kill myself.
I'm too scared for even that.
I want to be somewhere between life and death, not leaving people behind.
But leaving my hurt and the hurt I've caused others behind.
