The Mask

Today at church, I had so much turmoil...
not because of what anyone said or did- just because things have been really tricky lately.
I am sure I looked happy to be there, which I was.
But when people see me happy to be there, I bet they assume everything is great.
Do you ever feel like going out in public causes so much energy?
Because the pain/sorrow/anguish are just so close to the surface.
I always avoid people that know me well when I am in this sensitive state because I know the moment they say, "How are you doing today?", I will just break down in tears and sob on their shoulder.

Today, I wore the mask.
The mask of contentment.
The mask of happy.
The mask that everything is going just fine.
But everything is not fine.
I am a mess.

Why do I do this? Why does anybody?
Am I so afraid of someone actually caring?
I think the real reason I put on the mask is so I don't inconvenience people or make them feel bad or even pity for me. But what I need to realize is that church is the one place I should go mask-free. Those people love me. They genuinely care for me. If I had a friend in the same situation, I know I would drop whatever I was doing to help them, to hold them. In fact, I can think of more than one occasion that I have had the fortune to help. And I did not feel put out. In fact, I had a great love in my heart and was able to be strong and try my best to follow promptings to help.

I promise the cryptic manner of this post will be answered in due time. In fact, I feel a real prompting to share my struggles... but I am not quite ready. I am working on it, but the pain is so fresh that I need time to process.