Shared pain is lessened; shared joy, increased This is a big lie. At least it is not true for my case. It is not easy to share my pain with others. I believe when people know about my pain, I become vulnerable and I fear that they could hurt me cruelly. I have been there before. I can't talk about my feelings with someone else other than my mom. If I can tell others about my problems, I know I won't feel any better. This is me. I can't change myself. I don't rely on people. I don't like to look like a weak person. Who likes? Everyday I wear a mask and go to the work. I pretend to be strong, but inside I am very weak. People admire me that's real, they don't know there is a wrecked person inside. I try to wear chic clothes. I try to look perfect as if I had a perfect family. This mask sometimes tires me out because it becomes too heavy to carry. Still I get up, hold my mask and place it perfectly on my face without leaving any space at the surface.