The Bipolar Writer Mental Health Blog
I hide behind the mask I wear. I hide from you. I hide from myself.
I hide so you can’t see me, so you won’t see me, not the real me, the hidden me.
Don’t get too close to me,the real me. The one you can’t fully see.
What if you don’t like me? What if no one likes me?
That one that hides deep inside my walls of pain and shame–hidden between the layers of heartache and trauma. Trauma that sneaks out sometimes that I must quickly tuck back inside before you can see it, before you can see me seeing it. That heartache and trauma in my past buried beneath the newness of my life.
I hide so you wont know my story. I hide so no one can hurt me, again.
I hide from fear. Fear of possible closeness that I am no longer accustomed too. A…
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