Do we hide behind a smile or a peal of laughter? Are we breaking inside, but still have to face the world with the cheeriest disposition? Does a twinkle in our eye conceal a forbidden tear scared of rolling down our cheek? Do we tell the world we’re something we’re not, that we’re ok and deep down we know it’s a big fib?

“It’s a little white lie, it’s nothing”, we think to ourselves. We don’t reach out to anyone else. There’s more comfort in the slow fall into the depths of our misery. The further we let it swallow us, the faster we start to fall and there’s nothing to cushion the blow, except the misleading thought that it’ll all be over if we control the fall.

We feel like the master of the game. Inflicting pain when we feel we can handle it and surrendering to it when it engulfs us like a massive wave of destruction. We cut ourselves to feel the hurt, we drink away our sorrows embracing the numb sensation, we stare into the mirror at an image that the world and those around us have created, and we wonder what keeps us awake at night and what makes us dread getting out of bed in the mornings.

We feel sorry for ourselves, we self -destruct, we love the highs and we’re sure as hell scared of the lows. We say we’ve had enough, and yet we bask in the narcissistic feeling that we somehow have learnt to pull the strings and fit the pieces in our disfigured puzzle. We curse those we love and we love those who cursed us.

We take our life away in a second or we count the days down and stick it through as long as it lasts.