*

   I did not come to this land to find happiness but I had hoped indeed for some semblance of peace. I had hoped that in spite of the hardships some things would be prettier but often I struggle to breathe.There is one thing that I do to make myself feel better and that is the slow but meticulous closing of old things left open for far too long. Tidying up things I left half-done. And I hate cleaning up any mess that is not physical and I can not simply scrub away.

  I am in complete denial of the ways that I block myself. I have gotten better at some parts though and that alone does bring me some hope. But part of me loathes even starting things that I know will make me feel better. And I am alone here and do not know how to keep pushing myself. 

  I wake up early most mornings. I write, I try to find time to breathe. I started moving my body somewhat just feel a little bit better. During that I feel calmer and more in control and somewhat grateful. Still I struggle with my mind. But I try to push forward, even for a little while. I get up, make coffee, eat some fruit, write, exercise, try to squeeze in a bit of something else. I go to work, I rot, I come back, cook and go to sleep. I often lose a lot of time on the internet. I'm thinking whether I should just turn off my connection past 9p.m.

  I don't find solace in myself these days, that is all. I took all the loneliness and unrest from one place and carried it to another. And there are no distractions here to keep me from facing myself. So I try to find some for myself. How ironic and fitting at the same time that I keep on going back to all those things that hardly ever did me any good. I know what will distract me, what will upset me, I seek it still.

  That being said, I think I like myself better now. It took some time to look square in the eye all the time I let others down and even longer the times when I let myself down. And somehow I like me better now than before I left my home. And much to my surprise, I even feel glad for the bridges I chose to burn. I never thought such a day would come. I was prepared to mourn and mourn and mourn and yet.

  And yet. 

  And yet I realised that there will always be someone in whose story I am a villain. And sometimes I have been exactly that. And other though I have tried, I will not be viewed in any other way than the one comforting to the other person. Let them put all the blame they want on me. I have carried my own. And in learning to tend to myself, I have learnt to carry that too.

  I always thought that I would pray to go back in time to salvage some connections. And though I still miss them, I want to see them not.

  Not now, not ever again.