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Don’t ask me how I’m doing, because the real answer is: I’m not okay.
I’m never okay.
It doesn’t matter if it’s a beautiful day or pouring rain. It doesn’t matter if I am with friends or completely alone.
Every single moment I am trying to fight with the voices in my own head—the ones reminding me that what I used to have is no longer here.
Know that if I am talking to you and smiling or laughing, in that very same moment my brain and heart are scrambled, trying to make sense of this new reality. I may be with you, but I am not present.
Know that I am trying as hard as a human can try to feel even a moment of peace. It seems like an impossible, insurmountable task. One second of normalcy feels unreachable.
Know that I am completely and totally exhausted, every moment of every day. Not because I’m not sleeping (even though I may not be), and not because I’m too busy or working too hard—no, I am exhausted from trying to survive. That’s it. I am exhausted from the time I wake up to when I fall asleep, solely because I am trying, with everything inside me, just to get through the next moment.
Know that every morning I have a split-second between sleep and wakefulness when I forget my new reality. One single moment when I feel like my old self, then the remembering hits, and I relive the pain all over again.
Know that the pain you see is infinitely worse than you can imagine—that it has reached parts of me that I didn’t know existed and ricochets into everything my life touches.
Know that I still need you, even though it feels like the only person I need is the one who is no longer here.
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