I don't know if this happens to you, but it happens to me. Sometimes the darkness in my room feels consuming, almost like it is swallowing me whole. Sometimes I am overcome with doubt and apprehension about the future. Sometimes I feel so tiny and unimportant and invisible. (And to be frank, relative to everything else going on in the world, I am.) It's important to breathe in these moment. It's important to pay attention to your breath and count backwards from ten to one. From there count your blessings. Start with something small. Like how you're so lucky you have lungs so you can take in so much air. And then blessed you are to have arms to hug someone. To hug yourself. And enough emotions inside you to cry, letting each tear that fall represent your troubles, slowly sliding down your cheeks. Let them fall, and feel blessed that you're still human and there are still many things left unknown and even more things to be afraid of. Blessed to have an outlet to write. To even have energy to write. To be able to articulate. To be able to live, and fear, and hate. And hurt.

Adults are full of fear. More so because they know more than children. It's a great relief to be able to remove the armor and let yourself be human.