Life sometimes can be really difficult, especially if you are coming from where I am coming from. When you don’t get things easily, and the only way to win is to fight. Where opportunities are like a hen’s tooth, very rare.

Each day is a battle, a battle against myself. Staring at my reflection and hoping for the best, though I doubt it. Looking back and wondering if I’m worth it.

The depression is real, though I can’t explain it. The self-hate increasing, my self-esteem decreasing. Every breath is like a battle and my existence I’m denying.

I’ve struggled so long that I’ve mastered the art of fake smile. Laughing in front peers and crying in their absence. My sorrowful face I cover with a happy face. I’m good at pretending.

I’m hoping I’ll get better. The struggle will get easier and I’ll get stronger. And that though I’m at the edge of the cliff, I won’t fall. I’m holding on to hope. I’m hoping for a better future. For a better me.