Anxiety/I'm sorry

She is stressed.

I am stressed.

She can cope.

I have no coping mechanisms in place, because anxiety is new.

She yelled at me, insinuated I don't love her.

I know these feelings aren't normal; you don't have to tell me.

I know I need to get help for myself; you don't have to tell me.

I'm sorry.

I walk around the house, a shell of myself.

No one here to bear witness to my emptiness.

I fight off the tears, taking every ounce of my will.

Men aren't supposed to cry.

I know I smile and make others laugh; you don't have to remind me.

I know I've disappointed you before; you don't have to remind me.

I'm sorry.

I've cancelled something I normally enjoy, because the anxiety is too much.

The other express concern, but all I can say is I'm sorting things out.

My head hangs low and I sit in the car, unwilling to move.

I'm sorry...