I think I have reached my breaking point.
I have always been Miss Cool-Calm-Collected— people always praise me for being able to work efficiently under pressure, they rarely see me flustered due to stress. Well…you know what? Everything has an end, a limit. And there are times that I just can’t take all the crap anymore. That’s when I break down.
Crying, for me, has always been a type of therapy. A form of release. You can’t just keep everything bottled up inside you, or else you will just explode. And what happens when you explode? You end up hurting the ones close to you.
Recently, I’ve been thinking…this is it, I’ve hit rock bottom. My fire is flickering, my drive faltering. But deep inside, I fervently hope that everything will be alright. This is just a phase, this is just a phase, this is just a phase.
I must not lose hope.