I wish I could explain it to you eloquently.
Please understand nine times out of ten, it's not you.
You look so frustrated I have told you nothings wrong.
But, please for a minute understand I hate you worrying.
Everything changed the day you said you wanted me,
I know you've also never had to deal with someone like me.
I keep repeating 'less mentally ill, more mentally chill.'
Some days that sentence works others not so much.
So when you walk through the door and see me stressed,
see me teary and see me at my wits end, hold me.
Don't get mad when I say nothings wrong. Obviously, something is.
Those demons that come with Anxiety and Depression.
I'm fighting every day, sometimes quietly with grace, sometimes not.
It's almost always a messy ass about fight.
I have a reason to be happy you see, and that's not how anxiety works.
I'm fighting for me, my daughter and you, to be the best me I can.
Loving you is one of the easiest yet hardest things I’ve ever done.
It's like I hav
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