I have been lying a lot about my life lately to avoid people being concerned.

It’s dreadful, isn’t it? Having a heart full of dreams and aspirations in a body filled with dread and frustrations.

I don’t want to lose, but I don’t want to live like this either.

It’s draining. It’s overwhelming. It’s overpowering. It’s more than the most negative thing we could ever imagine. Because everyday is just another waking day of trying to survive, pretending that I am mentally stable to do life.

I stopped sending SOS messages. Most of the time, I cry with little to no help from other people. I just move on to do the works I need to do just because I have to– because no matter how much they say they will always be there for me when I need them, my anxiety tells me otherwise.

The voice inside my head always sells me out.

“Courage, dear heart. Courage.” This has been my mantra for the past weeks of deliberately choosing to be alone just because I don’t want to bother anyone.

Sometimes it works. Most of the time, I am making a fool of myself. Such a waste of time daydreaming and never really start growing.

But then, how do I grow when the drive to live is sometimes not enough to keep me sane? How do I navigate through being the old me, when I don’t even know how to act my age these days? How many times should I remind myself that I am worthy, precious, loved, and favored, before I start really believing them?

How do I start?

How do we take courage?

Courage, dear heart. Don’t be afraid.

Please do not be tired.

Please, just live.