Every morning I wake up hoping my stroke was just a very bad dream, then the realization sets in...I'm different. From the outside I look the same, no one could tell, which I guess I'm grateful for, but the expectations remain the same. I'm also responsible for that because I want everyone to think I'm FINE...I can do pretty much everything except slower and I have to pace myself because I get exhausted. I'm physically exhausted and emotionally exhausted trying to keep up with the pace and facade.