"When you’re just barely holding it together, every day is a long and tiresome struggle, every challenge of every size potentially ruinous... In spite of whatever it is that keeps picking, picking, picking little pieces of your shell away, you still manage to make it to school or work, or to pick up the kids, or to go to the store, or hell, to walk the dog. And for that, I want to say: Good job...
And if one day you don’t manage to hold it together? If one poke is too many and the shell cracks or outright shatters? Good job for making it as long as you did and good job for not protecting anyone from your own internal tempest anymore. Good job for starting the process of putting it back together; maybe it will be stronger in the broken places."
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