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Nr. 64

Nr. 64
I’ve known for quite some time now how little I care about myself. It’s one of the reasons why I had no problem giving everything of myself to others, as I feel I have nothing worth saving for myself (which has opened my eyes to one big reason why my relationships hasn’t work out, but that’s another story). It sounds awfully self pitying, except that I don’t really feel sorry for myself nor do expect others to either. I can change the way I think about or view myself, but that would be trying to mask or bypass what’s objectively true. Normally I would be ok with this ridiculous dejection, but when it is combined with a ‘low’ it can turn quite unappetizing and worth hiding.

I have a small core base of people willing to help me. Who are waiting for my call. Even though at this point it’s like waiting for Godot. Even my psychiatrist asked me the other day why I didn’t call when I was at my worst last week. I couldn’t really give her a good answer. Pride? Stubbornness? Or perhaps that I didn’t truly care about myself enough in the moment to reach out. ‘I can handle it myself’...words I often use. But even though I have uncovered a lot of ‘why and how’, I’m still here, depressed. The only way out of it is with her guidance and my willingness to accept that help. 


I will be ok. I keep saying that. If I keep saying I might start believing it soon. ❤️

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