We all go through trials, and nobody's pain can be compared to anybody else's. And yet, sometimes, it just all seems too much.
When anxiety overwhelms you, and all you can feel is a creeping sense of panic, sometimes it's so hard to stay strong.
But, hah! aren't I the strong one? The one that everyone looks at and says, she is strong. It's like a label I have to wear. The one that looks good every day, clean, well-dressed, the one that people want to "get with". Sometimes I'm not sure whether people actually miss that there is a person underneath there, who's smile is sometimes fake and who's just a little girl waiting to hold somebody's hand so they could lead her out of this darkness.
The one that has so much potential. Yes, I have a lot of potential, but I don't know if you know how much effort it takes to get that potential through, when all I can feel is panic; and I just want it to stop.
I'm not stopping living for one bit, I'm not stopping hope. I'm still dancing to the sound of life, and I'm happy to be here, I'm enjoying it all. But it feels like I'm dancing on quicksand.
Like a life thread slipping away out of my hands, like, after holding on so long, slipping back into darkness.
I have a past, you know. Everybody has pasts, and I'm no different. It's just getting to me.
I don't want to let mine eat me up though, and I'm trying not to. I'm trying…There are people holding out their hands and I am grabbing on for dear life, while continuining to dance on this quicksand. Let me just hope I hold on. Let me hope I carry on with this dance I have to do.
