Moving on

There are many ways to die. Many times in my life did I come close to both physically and mentally and emotionally dying. If a mental breakdown is dying a little, so is an abortion, a suicide attempt, and what have you.

The thing is, I died a little every time I felt humiliated, slighted, let down. I continued to die over and over again, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. My conscience and heart is so active though, that I learnt not to reach out for the comforting idea of not struggling anymore. I learnt to fantasise about other scenarios, all carefully planned out, to avoid as much pain to others as I could. But I couldn’t help also wanting to live, remembering how I felt just the day before, or just a few months earlier, or the other day, and feeling that back then I thought my terrible urges to let go and give up were simply irresponsible, crazy, absurd. I was happy! What was I thinking?

Anyhow. Counselling will probably be over next week, or soon after. It was helpful. The dealing with distress intolerance module, a couple of good visualizations and exercises I hope I’ll be able to continue later. But more importantly, once again, though with increasing conviction, I am letting go of my old self, of that girl that has been raging and battling and passionate since as far as I can remember.

I apologise to her, feel for her, but it’s time to give up the fight, I said, lay down your arms, I said, and I’m sorry you didn’t get understood, I’m sorry things didn’t go how you planned, but it’s time to let go.

That is why today I also gave up reading and re-reading for the nth time my novel, and waiting for my husband to have a time to draw a cover, and I published my book.

This book is about a future I could have had, at least in my deluded mind. It’s a novel, make no mistake, but also a dream. A dream that I have to let go now, as I know now it will never come true (in some respects, thank goodness for that!).

Next in my plan, the second book to publish. That is being written now. That will likely be longer. After that, I will have let go of all of me, and can live and experience whatever’s left.

I am what i was exposed to, I am what I did, I am what I do. It’s time to give up trying to explain, to be understood. To give up the fight.

So, here it is, it’s going, it’s gone, it’s free. The House of Blue:



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