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its been a long time
these days I don't blog.
it's hard to believe that
my depression isn't something i imagined
i cry at night still sometimes
on the days I am happiest, thinking about why
I didn't -
then i remember, I did treasure those days in the past. And I treasured my happiness of that day too.
So I stop, and I sleep.
Therapy has been good for me. Even if I'm not able to use all the skills at once, I can at least try to use them, and am more aware of how I feel. When I have need to voice my opinion, the delay time is shorter now. I still feel anxious a lot, but I have ways to calm down now.
And when I doubt who I am, when I doubt what I do, I list my favorite things, the things I'm good at. I try to imagine clouds, leaves, and other transient things. I feel my emotions, I watch the teapot full of anger and sadness brew.
I take out my diary card, and feel my emotions. The texture, the shape, the color, the way it moves.
I cannot dejustify my going to therapy. I have reasons to go there.
I'ts hard (but no one said it was going to be easy)
I was looking at my hands today. Oho, my Girdle of Venus... my line of health. My odd line of marriage, my two life? head? lines. the broken head line on my right. And the line of apollo.
Girdle: Hypersensitive person.
Line of Health: fragmented. I will have a great illness.
Broken head on right: I am not fulfilling my potential.
It's... funny. No, it's... it's...
I know. I have certain traumas related to sex, related to B, related to men. To my mother, sister, cousins, the world.
I keep comparing myself... I DON'T HAVE AS MANY PROBLEMS AS THE OTHERS! I DONT! WHY DO I GET HELP! I DON'T DESERVE TO GET HELP! Help them...
it's like this, it's like this
my mom wants love. I'D RATHER GIVE EHR ALL THE LOVE I GET FROM OTHERS. i don't want it. i don't deserve it. give it to my mom!
(i can't love her as much as she wants me to. I love myself too much. or rather i'm too absorbed in my selfhatred. I'm sorry mom.)
when i can unlock myself, untwist myself in this forest, these chains, the bird cage and the cell. The broken, the fragmented mirror, the bird with a broken wing.