I have problems and I am seeing a therapist, so I'm healing. But I've been dealing with these problems for so long, that it's a habit to be depressed or suicidal.

I am one of five children and it's a chaotic household, I understand that. I'm the only daughter and was raised to be responsible for my brothers. I had to make sure they ate, that they went to bed or that the house was locked up when the parents were gone. I was in charge and couldn't have problems. 

I learned to pretend I was okay because I didn't have time to be not okay. I had things to do, I couldn't be suicidal.

Now, I can't tell them what's wrong because it feels like I'm letting them all down. I can't have emotions, so I feel guilty when I do. 

I'm working on this, but it's so much easier to say you're okay and that you just need space.

I had an anxiety attack the other day. I was at an event with family and I was so uncomfortable. I hid in the bathroom but I couldn't get it under control, so I texted the family member and started to walk home. It was like five minutes to drive over so I thought it wasn't long.

I ended up walking over a mile.

And no one noticed.

The family member didn't look at their phone and had no idea. Eventually, my legs hurt so much that I had to stop and I texted others to come to pick me up. 

They didn't notice. 

It was half an hour before anyone even noticed, and that really doesn't help an anxiety attack. 

With events like this, you begin to wonder.

If I died, how long would it be before anyone discovered?

How long would it take for anyone to even notice?

Am I just invisible?

Someone came and picked me up and I acted like everything was okay. The walk helped and I was just tired, no problems.

Inside, I'm crying out for help, wanting anyone to question why I had such a big attack at a small event. Ask why I had to walk home, ask how I'm really feeling.

Instead, my mom said that she was proud of how I handled my anxiety.

It felt like a kick to the chest. 

She was happy for me, as I was breaking apart inside and dying.

As I thought that no one needed me.

Or that I could fade away and no one would notice.

She was proud.

Which of course means that I can't freak out about anxiety attacks anymore. Because I'm getting better and that makes her proud.

Do you ever feel like you're stuck in a box, smiling but no one can see you crying? 

Yeah, every day.

Because I'm the perfect actor.