Young body recovering from the damage.
33 years.
But they seem 3300.
Mind dead.
Brain broken.
Spirit numb.
Can I die?

Only in death I’ll be saved.
From the noises.
From having to make the bed right.
From OCD.
Distractions, overwhelming, being stuck.

I can try to be safe in moments.
But things keep coming back.
So death, safe me from these.
I’m crying for you.
Day and night.

A project of love instead of a project of fear.
Killing my ego.
Step by step.

Fear coming from hope and expectation.
Letting go.
Not expecting, but accepting and trusting.

It’s all I can do.
Before I’m ready to leave.
I think I’m done with all that this world has brought.

But now I’m still taking steps towards leaving.
And that thought is soothing.
Also trying to be in the moment and accepting.
It is what it is.

My journey.
I won’t fight it.
It’s been torture but it’s a process.
My project.
My torment.
My breaking point.
Every time, the things that come back again.

But now I need to let go.
Killing my ego.
Step by step.

Be that mess.
You’ll get through it.
Again and again.

It’s draining and torturous.
So be that mess.
Embrace the dark.

Expect nothing.
Accept everything.
No matter how mean.

It’s so dark.
Telling yourself lies, little white lies.
To create little space.
To get through the day.

The dark is ok.
But not when you can’t sleep.
Not when it’s violently painful to be awake.

To live a life that never feels fine.
You just try.
But need to escape from this world.

Stuck in the moment.
And it’s not pleasant, draining discomfort.
Takes forever.

“You’ll find your peace” is what she said.
It’s what I repeat over and over now.
Daily and at night when everything feels so wrong.
“I don’t like it anymore” is what I said.
It’s what I repeat over and over now.
Daily and at night when everything feels so wrong.

“I can’t get it right, it’s not working”,
“I’m a part of my family so I can do anything”, “I’m save, I’m taking my time”,
“I do it the best way possible”….

It’s been taking too long.
It’s not working for me.
I’m trying to go inside but so much is happening.
Too long.
And not enough.
I need peace and something worth fighting for.
Not to just survive for decades.

I’m not ok with having to constantly find a way through things that aren’t.
Ok.
Ok?
No, it’s not.
No, I’m not.
I’m just trying to find my way out of this.
And not come back but I have to do it in a way that is not ok.
Cause I can’t stay, not even when I try to be save, inside, taking my time, doing what I can…

I’m so tired and lonely.
I want to lie in somebody’s arms.
Like a baby.
Connected.
And I want to escape from this place forever.
But I can’t find the escape, the connection or the right arms.

The right eyes don’t look.
The hands I love don’t reach.
The voice I long for is saying hurtful things.
The face I want to see is turned.
And the warmth I once felt for a moment turned into a breeze.

It doesn’t accept me.
It blows against me.
Pushes me down.
The last bit of hope to feel something other than the loneliness, the exhaustion, sadness.
It left me.

More empty, more defeated.
But what did I expect?
As if anyone would ever want to hold a baby that keeps crying.
That doesn’t sleep tight.
That is never happy to live.

Always so broken.
Lost in a world that it was forced into.
To live a life that’s way too much to handle and to carry?
Nobody wants to hold a baby that became a grown woman with too much hurt.