Conflicted.

I have realized something: I’m not okay.

Maybe that’s not the problem though.

The problem is that I don’t think… Actually, I’m pretty darn sure that no one I know would agree with that.

Isn’t that weird?

Maybe that shouldn’t bother me. Well, the fact that everyone thinks I’m fine doesn’t really bother me. I should be happy… I mean… no one knows anything is wrong.

What bothers me is that I’ve been so good at hiding all these years that no one knows I’m not okay. It bothers me that…

….

I don’t know how to stop hiding.

And I want to. (I think.)

Okay, so I don’t.

I don’t know what I want.

I do know I’d rather not hide forever.

I do know I’m not okay.

…And no one believes me…

-Melissa

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