If you feel unwanted as a child, you will think yourself a monster unworthy of love and do anything, absolutely anything to prove to people that they should love you. Even a morsel of love is enough if you are unwanted. You’ll take the crumbs and say thank you.
I will get better. I promise I won’t give myself up this time. Not today. Not ever again.
I’ve been here before and I’ve gotten out of here before. I know I feel stuck, but I’m truly not. I can overcome this, I know I can.
But right now, I just need to feel. I need to allow myself to cry. I need to allow myself to listen to what I’m feeling and acknowledge it. I need to be vulnerable and I need to let it all out.
I’ll be back to being strong once I’m done, I promise. I will get back on track. I will get better, I will make it better.
Fog is magical. There are few situations where you can feel how thin the veil between worlds is and fog is one of them. Spidery shapes emerging from the snowy gloom, a picture perfect liminal space where what lurks beyond the misty curtain you can never be sure. I like fog.
