therapy

Foreword

I've been writing my thoughts down for weeks as a way of therapy.

Thoughts I had to put into words to allow myself some rest at night.
Thoughts I had to write down to let my soul weep and blossom in melancholy. 

I promised that the vulnerability of my thoughts wouldn't be brought to the public until I found the confidence and courage to publish my weaknesses.

As I was on my way to write down everything that kept me up tonight, I noticed that there was no place for me to put my fears into.

„It felt like I had lost a part of myself."

My pride is stronger than my sentiments.
My demons something I cannot get rid off.
They shame me for putting my guard down.
Mock me for the words I had written to ease my pain.

I wasn't witnessing my own act of ruining something so special to me.

Something that gave me freedom.

Something I was proud of.

Something that carried the person I truly am.

Amid each fight against my demons lays another wounded soldier

yet the aching for salvation and weeping for  revenge is not strong enough to guide me into a new beginning of getting to know myself.

As if my wisdom has departed and part of my soul drifted away with the wind, I lay bare on this world like a motherless infant.

Perhaps this book will have only one chapter. Perhaps it will never end.
Perhaps it will disappear and nobody will ever know about it.

But there's always a remote possibility that I will end before this book.