MORNING
We talked until the sky began turning gray.
I told him things I’d been too embarrassed to say out loud.
The pressure.
The loneliness.
The feeling that everyone needed something from me while I had nothing left to give.
David listened.
When I finished, he said,
“Tomorrow, we’re getting you some help.”
I wanted to argue.
Instead, I nodded.
The next morning wasn’t magically better.
I still felt heavy.
I still had questions.
But something had changed.
I wasn’t carrying everything alone anymore.
Over the following weeks, I started talking to people.
A professional.
A friend.
My family.
Little by little, I learned that asking for help wasn’t weakness.
It was an act of courage.
Some days were good.
Some weren’t.
But I kept showing up.
One morning, I stood in front of the same mirror where I’d spent so many nights telling myself I couldn’t continue.
I looked at my reflection.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t see someone broken.
I saw someone still here.
