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By Annon
If you see me walking down the street, you don’t see my scars, mental or physical. You see a young woman, full of youth, smiling and laughing.
“She looks so happy, always smiling” Is just one of the many sentences I hear about myself. Yet behind closed doors, where I can truly be myself, I break down. I’m struggling, going day to day pretending to be ok, a fake.
So, which is my normality? The happy me which everyone sees and comments on, or the real me, where I let my scars out? It’s a trick question. I’m just me, I’ll have good and bad days and I’ll have worse days but that’s my normality.
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