Act okay, Cassandra. Act okay. You're okay. Just act okay. "Well, okay," I said, trying to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. I listened as my mom said some other stuff, then made some good excuse to leave the room.
I ran upstairs and began to hair-pull, then stopped, because I'm still standing strong in my promise not to self-harm. With hands that were practically shaking, I covered my face and tried not to cry.
All I could think was, I wasn't even good enough at being perfectionistic to be labeled a perfectionist!