By pretending, I don't mean I'm a fake person. I just put on a happy face even when I'm dying inside. I'm not a shy person and in general what you see is what you get. The only problem I have is opening up, I can't get help because I can't ask. I've gone to the doctor, sat in the office and just couldn't say the words. I'm ashamed. I can't talk about how I feel I just pretend it's ok or I get angry because it's the only way I know how to deal. I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of pretending I'm ok and I'm tired of fighting for every little thing. I can't remember a time when I was happy, when things were easier. If I didn't have children I wouldn't be here now. The thought of them going to my ex husband is the only thing that keeps me here. I'm not afraid of death, I welcome it. I'm sick of living and even if death is nothingness I could care less. At least I won't be in pain anymore. It won't matter then.