This Is What It Looks Like

This is what it looks like; bright smile around those who surround her daily.
This is what it looks like; the constant humour rolling off her tongue naturally to make others laugh and smile.
This is what it looks like; keeping the conversation constant and questions of your life directed back to back whilst avoiding those reciprocated questions of hers.
This is what it looks like; her mind is on a constant treadmill, bouncing from task to task effortlessly to shun away the bad thoughts that cloud her mind.
This is what it looks like; the fidgeting of her fingers, bouncing of the leg, swaying of her hips from side to side rapidly to rid the panic that started building within.
This is what it looks like; hair constantly tied up, unchanged for weeks on end because the mere task of washing it seems draining.
This is what it looks like; comfy clothes and worn in shoes are her daily attire she grew fond of because no effort is shed in deciding.
This is what it looks like; diverting direct eye contact on the whim that somebody sees straight through them and starts asking the dreaded questions.
This is what it looks like; puffy eyes and wet face covered by a pained smile to hide the fact that she’s been crying.
This is what it looks like; giving you all the space in the universe to do your own thing so she can wallow to herself peacefully without anybody knowing.
This is what it looks like; shaking hands and arms held down by all the strength she can muster as not to release it into the world.
This is what it looks like; showing herself as a strong warrior when she feels the exact polar opposite to it all.
This is what it looks like; look into her eyes and what do you see? Do you see the pain? No. Do you see the brokenness inside? No. Do you see how hard she tries to hide it through the happiness she can easily present through a mask of smiles and laughter? Yes.
This is what mental illness looks like; it may not be the stereotype of constant sadness or looking broken and beaten down all the time, it’s a draining disease that manifests the mind silently.
The stigma to where someone is told they just feel sad, nervous, anxious, maybe a bit blue, doesn’t see the true reality to the day to day life where a person battles their demons on a constant cycle within the realms of their own mind. The one place you’d think a person should be safe.
We do feel broken but present ourselves whole.
We do feel sadness but prefer everyone sees us happy.
We do feel like the edge is constantly below our feet to fall but hold ourselves back so we won’t rely on someone else to break the fall.
We want to change but it’s not as easy as words and medication.
We are mental ill, but we are still some of the strongest people to walk this earth.