I can’t count the times I’ve screamed into my pillow out of anger and sadness. I’ve let rage, hatred, loneliness, and pain consume for so long and silently dealt with it. There have been way too many times where I have locked myself in the bathroom as the world around me fell apart, crying silently sitting in the edge of the tub, constantly repeating to myself that it would be okay, when in reality I was never okay. Each and every time, I’ve only had myself. Each and every time I’d wash my face off and come out as if nothing happened, a fake smile on my face because I was not going to show the world it had gotten the best of me. I’m too old to feel this way. To still feel this way. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been at work and had to excuse myself in order to lock myself in a stall and breathe. Once again the the pain, traveling through my veins making my palms turn into fists. I only have myself. And I would repeat to myself the same thing, everything will be okay…I’m too old to feel this way..I shouldn’t feel this way. But it’s not okay, and the pain is there I can’t deny it, I can’t ignore it and I can’t seem to get rid of it..and as always, I’ve only got myself.