There is one thing that I know for sure: I am brilliant at pretending.

Sometimes I feel as if I should be awarded for my ability to play off the fact that everything is okay, when it really isn’t. But I tell myself that this is nothing to be proud of; in fact, it’s actually quite sad.

I can’t articulate how I feel most of the time. It’s usually a continuum of bad to worse, with brief lulls of happiness in between. More often than not, I feel overwhelmed, suddenly exhausted, and emotionally drained. It’s nothing short of an emotional rollercoaster, and I keep begging myself to get off. But I stay.

Why I stay is the question I continually ask myself.

I recently started counselling with a psychologist that I don’t know. There are pros and cons that come with it, but one of the best things is that I don’t have to pretend. She doesn’t know me; she’s learning about me. At the same time, I learn a little more about myself. Ever since my initial session I have felt extra raw and extra sensitive, but I remind myself everyday to keep it together. 9/10 days, I am successful.

But 1/10 days, it’s a nightmare.

I can never get a firm grasp on what triggers me because it’s different every time. I was listening to The Chainsmokers’ “Closer” today and just lost it, for reasons unknown.

I want to get off this rollercoaster but I can’t.

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