But guess what?

I'm not talking about a health problem.

I'm talking about something coming from the inside.

And somehow, those words feel so cold. So dry. So distant from what I'm actually trying to say that sometimes they make me laugh out of frustration.

Because what am I supposed to do with an answer like that?

How do I explain something I don't even know how to name?

Feeling good all the time is impossible.

It isn't real.

And if you've seen me laughing, talking, being calm, or acting like everything is okay, that doesn't mean that's all of me.

You see them laughing. You see them going out. You see them answering your messages. You see them living their lives.

And you assume you know them.

But maybe you only know the version of them they know how to show.

I am none of them.

I am not one feeling.

I can feel good and bad at the same time.

I can laugh while something inside me hurts.

I can be surrounded by people and still feel strangely alone.

I can tell you I'm fine because I genuinely don't know how to explain that I'm not.

And when I feel bad, I have so many words for it.

Sad. Tired. Empty. Lost. Overwhelmed. Heavy. Numb.

But somehow, none of them feels like the right one.