That one and a half
months was really pushing me of my limits. I was totally forced out of my
comfort zone (but that’s totally normal, since I never actually had a comfort
zone). I felt like I was at the edge of a cliff and I have one feet on the
ground, the other swinging on air contemplating between life and death. 50
percent death, 20 for life and what held me back would be, as always, hopes and
dreams, those which pieces I’m still working on gluing back together.
I thought I’ve stop,
for good, but it’s like taking drugs. When you still have a way of reaching it,
in a way or two and at one point you just go and get it. I was going bonkers,
it was like trying to ignore your urge of scratching your body when you’ve
chicken pox. So I did it, again. And I just kept doing it because that’s my
aspirin. That’s my only ticket to peace.
Tbh, I don’t know how
to recover from this madness.
Yours truly, riri.
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