It’s one of those days when I don’t have to strength to carry myself out of bed and participate in life. It’s one of those days when even talking to friends and loved ones drains me.

It’s one of those days when I can’t really weather the storm or dance in the rain. It’s one of those days when standing in the rain and drowning makes more sense than trying to fight it.

It’s one of those days when I don’t have the tools to fight or the energy to stand up for anything or anyone including myself. It’s one of those days when losing and winning are all the same. They’re both equally unrewarding.

It’s one of those days when I don’t even know what it means to be strong anymore.

Does it mean that you should suppress how you’re feeling? Does it mean that you should pretend that you don’t care and act like nothing ever shakes you? Does it mean that you shouldn’t cry because crying means you’re giving up?

It’s one of those days when your strength becomes a liability rather than an asset.

It’s one of those days when you question how long you will have to count on your strength without having someone else to lean on or how much longer you can really make it on your own. It’s one of those days when all you want is someone to be there for a little while until you find your strength again, when you want to fall knowing that someone will catch you.

It’s one of those days when you wonder if strength is enough to carry you through another day, if strength is enough to break the silence, if it’s enough to repair the damage or if it’s enough to depend on because it seems that the more you use it, the weaker it gets. 

It’s one of those days when you wish you weren’t strong and people didn’t expect you to show up like a trooper because that’s what they’re used to. It’s one of those days when you wish you could get away with being sensitive or vulnerable or a total wreck.

It’s one of those days when you wonder how long one can count on their strength before it breaks or how much weight one can carry before it all crumbles.