On the outside, there's no blood, no gaping wounds, no bruises...
On the inside, it's just as damaging.
But it's hard to show people the pain, the confusion, the exhaustion, the terror.
On the outside I look fine. On the inside I feel like crap.
This is good in some ways. It's useful for getting on with life, which is healing in itself. But it makes it hard to get help. It makes it hard to get people to take me seriously when I'm struggling.
I've become fantastically adept at acting like a normal person. I can do and say all the 'right' things and act like I'm perfectly well and normal and productive and even happy.
And sometimes I am all those things.
Other times I'm falling apart, strand by strand, and I desperately need someone to help me before I unravel completely.
This week I am continuing my search for a new therapist.
Let's hope I can get him or her to see behind the act.
With love x