I realize I do think a lot about ending my life. But I don’t think it’s a bad thing.

I’m still able to feel happy, excited and many other positive feelings. I feel a lot, but for some reason, feelings don’t fill me up like the way they used to.

Is it the hopeful feeling that I’m lacking?

To look deeper inside of me, I do see visions of how I would like my life to be. There are a lot of challenges ahead that I’m sure if I put my mind into, I will surely overcome them all. Yet the goals don’t seem so important and inspiring anymore. “Meh, I don’t mind if I won’t reach them to be honest”, I tell myself.

I feel like if I end it all here and now it wouldn’t be bad either. I’m old, tired and I have had enough. I see the points of being alive, but I also feel fine ceasing to seek further. I’m not depressed, I’m satisfied, enough to call it a life.

Reset everything we were. Here we are, starting our life together in a beautiful medieval village in the rural area Tuscany.

I struggle still with self-image. I struggle with seeing every single human beautiful. I believe everyone is beautiful in their own way but I can’t yet see it. I want to actually appreciate everyone’s beauty rather than just knowing that it’s the right thing to do.

I hate that my brain works black and white. Seeing conventionally beautiful humans reflects back to me, that I’m the opposite of beauty – ugly. Of course I know that is not true: one’s beauty doesn’t exclude others’ beauty. But there is a social construct ‘beauty standard’, which I’m heavily influenced by, I know that I myself can’t see myself fit in that ‘standard’ nor some others who don’t fit that ‘standard’. After all these years trying to deconstruct the old believes, here I am, still talking about how insecure I am with the way I look.

People say it’s ok to not see everything beautiful. But how can’t I move beyond that knowing I could never fully appreciate my body, the way I look, the way I carry myself. And since I can’t appreciate myself, a human, how can I go around telling other humans that I appreciate their beauty.

A hypocrite, that’s what I am.
A lonesome hypocrite who is traumatized to voice her insecurities to anyone because if they know, they will leave. “You need to go to therapy”, they say. They’re sick of me talking about my insecurities and worries. So yes, I will not talk about my dark sides anymore, I won’t vent, I will be a good optimistic person. Hence, coming back to the full circle, I am a hypocrite.

taken by Niccolò Vergari

Transitions are always hard. Big transitions.

I completed my master’s degree to move on, with all the uncertainties and worries of how my future would look like. I told myself it is normal to feel this way. Just breath. Step by step. I will find a way.

A project in Umbria that pays. A research project offered by my professor.

“Anh! Look! Things are manifested naturally just like that!”, the Universe whispered into my ears. I was hopeful. I felt loved and blessed.

Mom got breast cancer at stage 4.

My world turned upside down. I’m not ready to lose her. And I won’t lose her. But it doesn’t seem to be the only bad news: my family is in crisis, all dysfunctional becomes visible, no one doesn’t seem to be able to compromise.

I’m in the middle. I think about my life and all the future plans that I will sacrifice. Then I realize how selfish I am for thinking for myself while everyone is also in crisis. Then I also realize the guilt probably comes from my programmed mind to prioritize other’s happiness over my own. I realize how much I need someone to understand my story and tell me they are there no matter what. I don’t think I can ask that from my parents. Nor the partner I’m having. Even myself. How tragic.

I want a safe space. A loving space. Where I can be ugly, selfish and childish. I try to be the one to give myself that space. But damn it is hard.

I hate that I have not yet been kind to myself. I seek for people’s kindness. A certain type of kindness. A projection I have about how kindness should look like. A delusion.

Anyway I am coming home.

you miss someone so much that you don’t want to feel ok again, because that’ll mean that you’re ok without them. that’ll mean that life really does go on. you’re scared that if you feel ok again, you might forget what it felt like to feel them at all.

now all my friend is telling me
put aside our memories
but i don’t like the thought of moving on
cuz every step towars something new
is a step away from you
i kinda like the heartbreak
the falling apart
the way my tears taste
i let the sad songs
remind me of you
you might be long gone
but you’re still here in my room.

Naja, es gibt ein tiefes Gefühl der Einsamkeit.

In letzter Zeit fühle ich mich unlebendig. Ich lache, rede und interagiere mit allen, aber es ist so schwierig, mit den Menschen zu fühlen. Ihre Probleme sind nicht meine Probleme. Und ich kann nichts nachempfinden.

Es gibt Leute, die gesagt haben, dass sie sich um mich kümmern. Aber ich sehe nie, dass sie sich die Zeit nehmen, zuzuhören oder auch nur einen Blick auf das zu werfen, was ich hier schreibe.

Es gibt Leute, die haben nichts gesagt oder so etwas wie „Ich habe nichts mit dir zu tun“. Aber er liest alles so, als würde alles über ihn schreiben.

Alle setzen eine Maske auf. Sie verbergen etwas. Etwas, das beängstigend und dunkel ist. Und so habe ich beschlossen, alles abzubrechen. Ich gehe zurück in meine Ecke, in meinem cancerous Verstand.

Wahrscheinlich hat mein Körper echten Cancer.

Marking a month of non-stop menstruation.

Blood flows.