Image via Wikipedia Somedays, well, most of them, I think I am defective. I am made wrongly, something doesn't fit, something is not in the right place. Could I blame it on my childhood? Genes? Chemical imbalance? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME ? And if it really is wrong, how to fix it? I mean, look at me, I always find problems and faults, even though there aren't any.
At night, I cannot sleep because I think about death and dying and I have panic attacks. I am afraid to send my daughter to kindergarten because of diseases and viruses. You cannot blame me, after what happened last year....still, I am not able to get over it. If I fall asleep, I wake up to check on Maya, then I continue to worry. Sometimes, the worry gets physical and I get sick. I try not to think negative thoughts, I watch comedies, I read good books. While I am doing it, it is fine. Afterwards, it is business as usual.
I try to write but I am so exhausted mentally that I cannot concentrate.
I feel ashamed while writing this, believe me, because I know there is so much real pain and suffering in this world. But I canot help feeling what I feel. And I have to write about it, otherwise I'll go crazy, for sure. Even if nobody gives a damn about it. I write for me, sometimes when you recognize the fear and isolate it, you can watch it directly in the face and try to find a way to cope.
I think that the stars are not aligned the right way for me. Because it doesn't matter what I try to do, I fail. Oh, and usually everything I could try costs money. Cheering up needs a lot of cash and I am not there, not anymore.
I don't look at myself in the mirror anymore. Because every time I am doing it, I see an old, ugly, unhappy person.
My husband says he doesn't see me smiling like I used to, in the beginning...
My only happy moments are with my daughter. When I look at her, I realize I have to do something, for her sake. Because she needs me and I have to teach her how to fly. And I am afraid I forgot how to do it...
Drafts, On Adequate Number Of
11 hours ago