Hope Contagium

A therapy journal of self-obsession, depression and meaning.

Category: Diary Pages

My Reflection

I had lost myself. I can’t even place when or how, but I know now that I was lost. My focus had shrunk down to the size of a needle point. My ambition was flushed down the drain.

Finally a day arrived where I could pick myself up; a day of opportunity. I had been up for hours, but only spent 15 minutes preparing for the day. Ready, wearing my coat and big winter boots, I spent the next five minutes staring disappointed at my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was a despondent body and a colorless, discouraged face. I did try – truthfully. But the result was tiresome.

Standing, waiting, pacing and turning. Rolling my eyes in annoyance. Letting my past creep into my thoughts and haunt my conscience. Turning back time isn’t possible, I tell myself. It’s wasteful thinking about it.

On my way back home I feel like a used rag doll. The recurring memory of my reflection stiffens a frown on my face all the way home. Bashed by deceiving thoughts that crumbled my spirit I had transformed back to that little girl, blinded by fantasy, who forgot her insight.

My forehead and cheeks turn sore from the constant frown. I keep shaking my head. Hating my longing for youth and serenity, I steal a final glimpse of myself in the bus mirror before stepping outside…

Moving Forward

Oh sweet relief! I have become better at letting go of the distressing feeling of remorse. I can fairly quickly ease my self-hatred. I am moving forward.

L’existence est Difficile

The days gone by have been entirely different. Covered by negative energy, I haven’t had so much fun and laughter in ages. I haven’t felt more appreciated by others or more satisfied with myself than I have these last couple of weeks.

Mornings

Morning come and the dawn shines on a stronger you. I still feel like blowing my brains out. But, but, I won’t do it. Partly because I don’t have a gun.

Hide From the World

It was good to sleep. The anxiety is gone for now, but the depression is here. Though I do feel anxiety every time I think about going back to work. It feels unbearable that life is so difficult for me… And others who are troubled, of course. I know I’m not the only one to feel this way. I still think about suicide often. And sometimes I just wish I could be hospitalized again. Lately more than usual. I would be looked after and I could hide from the world. I wouldn’t have to lead a life. I know there are happy moments but I hate those as well. Because I know I’ll be depressed again; and even though I enjoy them while they are there, I despise them in times like these. I hate myself for being happy. For letting myself feel joy. Every bad thing that happens I hate myself for. So much self-hatred. Even now I know this is a message to nobody; there is no receiver at the other end. So my words will echo empty and I’ll keep counting down the minutes of my loneliness.

Bewildered

Papa just wrote to me. I had a slight urge to cry when I read his message. I still do thinking about it. I find it so hard with family. Why can’t you turn your back on them? How long shall you keep trying? Am I not able to forgive? Am I not stronger than giving up all the time? Hiding and crying. How many wrongs will I survive? Or is it me who’s completely wrong? Am I to blame? Should I patch things up or let go?

La Vie

So I drank two glasses of wine at a pub while listening to a discussion on tragedy. Then made my way home. As I waited for my train I bought a McDonald’s meal. But oh so laughed the universe at me: there were no seats in the train. So I had to eat my food crouching on my knees on the train floor. After I was finished, with my very unhealthy dinner, I had to entertain myself for the rest of the way home. So I sang songs out loud in the train (but quietly so only I could really hear me). First I sang of freedom, afterwards of goodness, followed by a song of love and finally songs of death. Throughout all this, I was still desperately hoping to see this one man’s face in front of me, all the way home.
La vie… Porquoi? Je ne sais pas.

A Day of Nothing

The gentle rocking is usually like a cradle, the constant humming an inane lullaby. But today I was wide awake in the train. It was one of those days where you’re in between. Neither happy, nor sad. Not excited or bored. I just kinda felt empty. I guess I was tired of all emotions, I was letting life take over… As it always does.
Through the day I had learned a life lesson; I gained a motto; I received a compliment. None of which had the biggest effect on me. Then, standing in the same spot for the third hour a little surprise hit me: I was given a chunk of yellow hard candy. Of course I gladly accepted it threw it in my mouth.
The day had passed on slowly. A colleague, I thought was a friend, had ignored me twice just walking right by me as he left the store. Two acquaintances from high school approached me and had treated me as if they didn’t know me. As if we hadn’t spent three years of our lives in the same building, seeing each others faces almost every day. A costumer hadn’tĀ even spared me a glance as I opened the door for her and her occupied hands.
So… A day feeling nothing; a day filled with nothing.

To My Angel

The things we say are like taken from a novel. Together, we give life meaning when there is none.

Country of Duty

The day before you are sent out is hard to describe. You don’t quite know how to feel… Fear and excitement has passed my body and still mixed emotions are left. I try to convince myself of feeling pride, but what have I accomplished yet? Nothing. Come on! You’ve been training for this moment for so long. Mentally preparing yourself without going anywhere. But imagination is not near reality…
I said my goodbyes and as the train leaves the station tears fill my eyes. I know what I’m leaving behind I may never see again. I pray for my lover, my family, and dear ones. I finally pray for myself. I can already hear the gunshots. I can already smell death. It’s time to face the battle; it is time to let go of who I thought I was. There’s no turning back now… I welcome the war.

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