The Great Pretender

And so you go, for a goodly length of time, through the days. Getting through them and sometimes even sleeping through the nights. And you do this by pushing and pushing and trying hard not to remember or pretending that remembering makes you happy, or pretending that life makes you happy, or pretending that "you got this." Pretending you have it together, pretending that you are strong and competent and capable. Pretending so well that everyone forgets that you are not whole, that you are broken. Pretending so well that for a moment you forget, you remember normal, you remember contentment, you remember perfection.

And then it stops. Working. And when it does, when the pretending ends, though you are still pretending for others to see, it seems it will now always be this way. Every time as it begins, it feels as though this will be the time it won't end. And though you think at nearly three years that things seem "better."

"Sometimes I actually forget for a moment and feel happy"

"Well, I actually decorated the Christmas tree this year, last year I only managed to put it up."

"I only cry when something triggers the sadness now"

When it takes back over you are pretty sure this is the time it will never let go. This is it. This time you really are going to break. And at this point breaking doesn't sound that bad. It seems like it might be easier than the pushing and pretending and strength. Giving in seems like it might be a pretty good option.