She Laughs Like She’s Not Drowning
A Poetic Story About the Mask We Wear and the Storm We Hide
She laughs. And it’s the kind of laugh that makes people think she’s fine. The kind that rings like windchimes, Carefree, delicate, rehearsed.
But her silence before bed is louder. Louder than the laughter, Louder than her heart trying to keep time With a world that doesn’t wait.
---
The Curtain Call
Every morning is a performance. She wakes before her alarm, Staring at the ceiling, Negotiating peace with her own breath.
Makeup on. Smile in place. Out the door, wrapped in armor No one can see.
She passes friends, co-workers, strangers— All charmed by her brightness. She’s the funny one. The strong one. The one who doesn’t need help.
---
When Anxiety Wears Lipstick
Inside, she’s unraveling thread by thread. Her thoughts are hungry wolves, Her chest a shrinking room, Her breath a quiet prisoner.
Panic doesn’t scream in her life—it simmers. In to-do lists, In missed texts, In the long stare at her phone, Hoping someone will notice Without her having to say a word.
---
She Smiles in Photos
She posts sunset pics and coffee cups, Quotes about growth, And boomerangs with friends.
But no one sees the edits, The drafts she deletes, The captions she almost posted: "I’m tired. I’m scared. I’m not okay."
---
The Water Rises Quietly
She doesn’t cry in the shower— She cries in silence. No tears. Just a chest so tight It feels like drowning with a grin.
Because how do you say: "I’m not okay" When everyone says, "But you always seem so happy"?
---
The Strength in Staying
She’s not weak. She’s surviving. Wearing her pain like perfume: Subtle but always there.
And in that quiet strength, In that laugh that hides the flood, Is a story many carry— One of endurance, One of grace, One of invisible battles Fought with no medals, no witnesses, Only willpower.
---
Let Her Be Seen
To the one who laughs like she’s not drowning— You don’t have to hide. Let your tears be valid, Your silence be sacred, Your story be heard.
Because vulnerability is not weakness. And asking for help is not defeat.
Your laughter doesn’t have to cover the storm. Let it coexist with your truth. Let the world see you— Not just the laugh, but the light, And the strength it takes To keep swimming in still water.
---
Final Words
She laughs—but she is not alone. Her storm is shared by many, And in that shared storm, We find empathy, We find healing, We find each other.
[End]
By [M.sudais]
About the Creator
M.SUDAIS
Storyteller of growth and positivity 🌟 | Sharing small actions that spark big transformations. From Friday blessings to daily habits, I write to uplift and ignite your journey. Join me for weekly inspiration!”
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (3)
Wow deep and beautiful.
Felt every word. Thanks for sharing!
This piece really hits home. I've seen people putting on a brave face like this. It's so easy to assume someone's okay just because they seem happy on the surface. But like you said, there's often so much more going on beneath. How can we be more attuned to those silent cries for help? And how do we encourage others to open up without making them feel judged?