There’s a reason why I punch walls when I’m upset. I think of a wall an impenetrable object; tall, sturdy, and great for keeping things out or holding me back. When my frustrations get the best of me, I put up a wall in my mind. This mental wall keeps me from reaching out to say I need help, it deters people from comforting me or holding me close. That mental wall quickly becomes tangible and all I want to do is tear it down, brick by brick. But, as expected, the wall is impenetrable. Mocking and taunting as I lay my bare knuckles to its cold hard surface. The wall stays standing and I am left hurting, trapped by my own image of a prison.