Repeated conversations

I have to persuade myself that I'm fine,

That I can handle problems by myself.

So that's why, to people, I tend to whine,

And hide my feelings away on a shelf.

"I'm fine", I repeat oh so many times,

In hope that one day I might believe it.

I know it makes me annoying sometimes,

But it's my last hope before I commit.

I can't help but repeat conversations,

To prove to myself that I don't need aid.

I am haunted by my expectations,

Of which, make me questionably afraid.

I don't know why on earth I am like this,

Why I am so scared of telling people,

That is why, many others, I dismiss,

Because I'd rather jump off a steeple.