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Nr. 28

I’ve been having an inner discussion with myself recently as to whether or not to openly talk about my depression with anyone, anymore. It’s not that it’s particularly hard for me to put words on it, nor do I feel its to spare other people from it (anymore). I guess I question whether it’s useful to do other than with a psychiatrist. And if it actually is beneficial to post a few instagram captions on it. 

I used to believe I did it for my own healing. That if I managed to put it into words I could somehow map it out more easily. The thing is I can actually do this fine by myself. So maybe I’m becoming more closed off as time moves on. It certainly seems that even if I have found some pride in the past about being kind and thoughtful, I don’t think I’m necessarily good at it. Or at least not good enough. 

Every fiber in me says I should stick to being open and give everything of myself, but my mind knows that even if it has lead to some incredible connections I have also managed to fall short in many places recently. Maybe someday I’ll learn how to be a better person, but as of now I don’t know if I will. Maybe this is my limit. I feel I’ve given so much, yet it never seems to be enough. 


Maybe this is all part of my depression talking or perhaps it’s part of a grander healing process. I don’t know. 

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