They laugh, and so do I. That's the trick, I turn panic into punchlines. I joke about losing it, about being "so anxious lol, and everyone thinks I'm just the chill, self-aware one. They don't see my hands shaking under the table or how my chest burns while I smile. Humor makes it lighter, makes me easier to be around. But when the laughter fades and it's just me again, the quiet gets loud. I wish someone could tell the difference between my laugh and my coping. It's not that I want sympathy. I just want someone to realize that sometimes, the funniest people are the ones trying hardest not to fall apart.