On good days everything seems OK. You let your guard down. You smile, you laugh without being self conscious, you allow yourself to experience joy; and it all feels great. Until it doesn't. Until you have a bad day - a day when the sheer frustration of trying to get something done makes you want to to scream, when pain makes you want to crawl into bed and hide, when every crazy crawls out if the woodwork with selfish demands,when the fucking random unfairness of life reminds you that you are nothing and your life means nothing.
Those days hurt. Not like a pounding headache, or a bleeding wound, or a blistering burn - they hurt like an acid eating away at the very core if your being. They wipe away your confidence, your self-worth, your reason to fight. They strip away your purpose, question your ability to trust, take away your hope and leave you naked and defenseless in a hostile world you thought you left behind.
And you see it happening, but you're not strong enough to stop it. So you question everything, you become passive-agressive, and you hate yourself for it. And you just want someone to make it OK again, but nobody can.
So you medicate away the pain, and you hide the self-doubt behind a pretty shade of lipstick, and you know that if you just bear it for a few days everything will start to feel OK again. And maybe the next really bad day will take a little longer to arrive.
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