Old pain dies hard.

It’s been a rough week. My depression is pretty bad. My head has been throbbing from all of the crying I’ve been doing. My stomach is sour from all of the anxiety and I haven’t been able to catch my breath from all of the worrying.

It’s during times like these that I just want to hide from the world. Shut off my phone, the tv, lock my doors and be alone with myself. 

But I cannot do that. Life must go on. Chances are if you’ve seen me this week you would have no idea that I’ve spent the last 5 nights hyperventilating. That my brain hasn’t shut off enough for me to sleep more than a few hours. That I have dark circles under my eyes from the tears and sleep deprivation (thank god for makeup). Why is it during my darkest hours do I revisit my childhood and fall apart even more?

When the weight of everything going on in my life gets to be too much I start thinking about why my anxiety is what it is and that makes it even worse. I came across this meme the other night and it’s so true. I’m not sure you ever really heal once you become a broken child. 

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