Hope Contagium

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

Tag: family


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?

The End

All this confusion. Why am I with this person? Better to be with someone than to be alone, I guess. We’re not even really together. And dreams don’t come true. Except maybe with Levin. Or maybe I just made them come true with him. I want to skip forward to a time where I’m not confused. Where I have a purpose. A person I love. Who loves me. A memory to keep forever. Strength built from one another. A family. Then I’ll stay there as long as possible. Maybe I’ll fast forward to yet another place in my life where I’m at rest and have a smile on my face. Will there be any place I would want to stay? ‘Cause finally, after experiencing those short happy moments… I can reach the end. Where no worries are found, no doubts, no unknowns. Just the moment where you let go.

The Heart Speaking

9:20, July 14th 2011
When you see your newborn little brother, fresh from the womb, for the first time you’re hit with great emotions. For a split second you forget to breathe and you feel deep love for him immediately – anything else is impossible. Tears start running down your face; it’s your bodies effort to relieve your minds overwhelming emotions. Everything around you becomes insignificant. Fascination fills your mind to every corner and you simply cannot understand this strange and wonderful miracle in front of you. It’s indescribable. It’s surreal. Yet there it is… A bond that will never break is created. My little brother.


I’ve lost a father I have never had. Sure, he’s my dad biologically, but he’s goddammit not a father in my eyes. I’m tired of searching and hoping for a father figure in that man. Finally, after 20 long years I release myself from one of my life’s greatest pains. Oh, freakin’ daddy issues.
“You desperately want acknowledgment from men, because you never received it from your father,” my psychologist says. Makes sense. How cliché. Well, now that I know, I can change it. I can distance from this.

My grandfather died yesterday (my father’s father). I didn’t even know I had a grandfather until a few months ago. Now, I don’t know how to feel. I should feel some sad irony or remorse.

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