Content warning: Mental health & suicide
I cried today.
In all fairness, I cry most days.
Sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's a release. A pressure valve opening just enough to stop something inside from cracking.
Sometimes it makes sense. Sometimes it doesn't.
I try to find the funny side of almost everything. Sometimes that helps. Sometimes it's just camouflage.
When someone asks, "How are you?"
The first thing that pops into my head is:
I'm alive.
Not "I'm fine." Not "Yeah, I'm alright."
I usually say those out loud. But in my head?
I'm alive.
And I laugh. A nervous little chuckle.
Because my brain goes back to a meme that stuck with me:
"I'm not struggling with depression. It's struggling with me."
Some days it feels like a battle. Other days it feels far away, like a story that happened to someone else.
Both are real.
If you're reading this and it resonates, even a little:
Send the message. Make the call. Knock on the door.
And if you're the one struggling, let someone knock on yours.
Being alive is not a small thing. Some days, it's everything.
#ReasonsToStay