Or does it?
Back to more zentangling. I was given this mask which the group therapy session were supposed to paint with poster paints the other day, but immediately I knew what I wanted to do with it, and I passed a quiet hour or two doodling.
We all have masks of sorts, we are different things to different people but I have spent so many years hiding my pain from the world, I've lost who I really am. At the moment I don't have the energy to keep that mask on, and my pain, raw and visceral is there for all to see.
My heart hurts.