She had been sitting at her desk for some time now. Her head in her hands. Tears drying on the pages in front of her. When did life become so complicated, she wondered. The world expected so much from her that sometimes she found it hard to even breathe. Breathe, she reminded herself. She concentrated on breathing, taking slow deep breaths and focussed on relaxing her shoulders. But she was weighed down. Why am I trying to be strong anymore? I'm not strong, I'm weak, always have been, the voices inside her argued and moaned and she squeezed her eyes tight as if this would drown them out. Wanting to scream, wanting to release this monster that threatened within her. It was a constant battle. Most days she was strong. But days like this, even with the sun shining so brightly outside and the birds singing so sweetly, it was hard to believe it would ever get better. But it usually did, didn't it? She usually came out of this stronger, no matter how long the storm in her heart shook her, she always came out of it alive.
It's a battle, isn't it? People can try to help but at the end of the day, the only way to get past that thing that strikes at random is by fighting it out yourself. And you are sooo much stronger than you believe. And it's always nice to remember that sometimes.
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