My Darkest Nights

don’t remember when it started. I don’t remember how it started. It just happened … it seems. It grows, slowly. It’s part of who you are; who I am. It is not so different from normality. In the beginning. And as progress is slow, you are so used to it and don’t even notice it becomes stronger. It becomes normality. Until ….

Being careful, being afraid, being scared sometimes is normal. Fear has a function; without it the human race would have been extinct ages ago. So …. Apparently these mechanisms can go haywire. How’s that possible? How is it possible that a human being can make his own life hell. Self-destruction is not the best strategy for survival. Or is this part of the natural selection [in that case I would prefer wings][or a long neck if necessary].

Sometimes it feels like being in another world, watching this one from the inside out. Not being here, but not knowing where you are instead, not knowing about my actual non-physical whereabouts. Dissociated, cocooned, covered by layers of unimaginable thickness. 

It’s not over yet! It will never be over; it’s part of who I am. But I’m able to cope with it, able to convert it as much as necessary to turn my pitfall into my strength again. Adieu tristesse? Partially, just enough to live, not too much to lose myself.