tell me that i am not this. tell me that i am not what i see in the bathroom mirror at one am. not a shrouded figure; a shadow of something i once was, incapable of interaction now, but desperate for your reassurance. tell me i do not feel this. i am more than nerves, more than fear; tell me that it is possible to feel happiness, to feel relief, to breathe, but only if i fight for it, reach for it, am willing to die for it. tell me i do not see this. a world better off without me in it; a thousand people living on with eyes, with hearts, that are devoid of my existence, my presence, of me. tell me that i do not have to be reduced to what i worry i cannot accomplish. tell me it’s okay to find strength, to find confidence, in everything that i have already achieved.