I’ve spent such a long time being the happy, upbeat one. Being the ear for other people and listening to their struggles, but never sharing any in return – never thinking I had any to share. I’ve spent so long being optimistic and believing that, no matter what, I can’t complain because my biggest problems pale in comparison to some people in world. I’ve spent so long answering ‘good, fine’ to the question ‘how are you?’ that I don’t know if I can answer it any differently. But things are not always fine. When I can’t even pinpoint what’s wrong, when it might not even be anything worth pinpointing, except to know that there are tears rolling down my face and this unrelenting feeling that something has to change, I know that in that moment everything is not fine. And who knew, that out of all the words in the English language, those two would be the hardest to say out loud.