That everything is fine.
Everything is not fine. I can't breathe, I might have cancer (we're doing tests this week to find out) and either way, I have to have an organ removed. My kids are young, and if I die, they won't remember me. I've had to take so much time off lately for these stupid symptoms like short breath, fast heart rate and lack of sleep, I don't know that I'll have a job to go back to when all this is over. Things are far from fine.
But, I have to convince myself it's fine because my kids need their Mama, my patients need their psychologist, my husband needs me to help support him as he is supporting me, and I need everything to just be fine. Even if it's just pretend. Everything is just fine.