I might seem like Mount Everest, so far away and talked about in admiration by climbers. When you look at me and see my frozen expressions, you’ll assume that even the biggest explosion can’t shake a molecule of mine. What one sees on the exterior does not reflect what is truly on the interior. There are mornings where I can’t get out of bed no matter how much I force my body to move. My body turns into my enemy and resists every instruction I give. My body and head become two separate, unjoined pieces at which my brain struggles to rationalize. On days like these, my head drowns in thoughts, thoughts and thoughts, and I can’t seem to find the oxygen I need to breathe regularly. I reach for air but I find nothing. It’s as if I inhale nothing in and I exhale nothing out. I only know how to shut my eyes and tears will stream down my face, as if I’m competing with the Nile. People around me will compliment my glow and assume its due to happiness, but on days like these, the tears are always present because I am unable to express myself in any other way. There are afternoons where I look like I’ve been cast a spell upon. On days like these, I can’t move. I am frozen and my body is numb. The bones in my body turn into tight ropes that squeeze my insides and I become helpless. My arms become weak and I can’t feel my fingers. My eyes stare blankly into space and I zone out until someone picks on how often I daydream. I am asked if I’m okay but I can’t piece together the definition of the word. The most simple tasks, like walking or talking become a struggle and I feel like a toddler all over again, except I don’t really feel anything. There are nights where my face is wet and it looks like I’ve dived into a pool, head first. My face turns into a waterfall, except it doesn’t look beautiful. My eyes are bloodshot red because I’m tired but I cannot sleep. I’m too tired to sleep. My legs shake in fear of thoughts that this condition is permanent and my kneecap feels like it is about to fall. I am not in control of my body and that scares me. I’m not only physically unstable but mentally and emotionally as well. I’m a wreck and I’m frightened. I think about everything wrong in my life and I forget to count my blessings. I am unable to shut out the negative thoughts so they consume me. Everything I’ve ever done comes back to bite me as one large venomous snake. I stare into the dark ceiling seeking for a savior. I yell silently but the only response I get is from the little devil dancing on my left shoulder and whispering in my ear. Ironically, in this moment, I feel like I am the only one on the peak of Everest except it is not considered an achievement. Loneliness fills up my lungs and no matter how hard I try, I can never be ready for the tides that hit me. On nights like these, I count reasons to stay alive.