I did so many things out of fear. So many things like writing, for every moment of suffering.

It still happens to suffer and it will always happen. It still happens to hope.

I’ve been fighting myself and ghosts for two years, ever since I started being afraid, ever since I heard things that didn’t do me good.

And I entered the water, drowning in my pain, fear, paranoia, they began to influence my choices, I began to believe that there are only a few friends, the rest are acquaintances.

To define and dissect, to divide into categories. To the point that if you ask me if I can love someone right away, I tell you that it is no longer possible.

I think I’ve gotten tougher, but I understand that I can think too much sometimes. I suppose that certain sides of my character are sometimes made stronger, and I am not in “control”.

Then, come to think of it, “control” is a really bad term. As if I really had to become obsessive to hold and pay attention to every emotion.

However, I noticed that the needle of the scale moves from one weight to another, so …

At most I can change the way of expressing thought, but it will not change, it will always be what it is: anger, frustration, resentment, love, hate, friendship, hope, the desire to be left alone, etc.

Sometimes you want to experience suffering, I don’t know why we are a bit masochistic, or if feeling pain is one of the many ways to feel alive …

Maybe we are caught up in our emotions, that we can’t understand other people.

Perhaps in my frailty, I really had “paranoia” and I pushed people away, I pushed away things I cared about.

But I never wanted to hurt anyone, I only acted because I was motivated by good intentions and good faith.

I just wanted and want to be well and that everything is fine.

I’ve started to change, and it’s hard, but I’m doing it. It takes a lot of time, effort, commitment.

I am facing the oldest evolution and revolution of my life.

Sometimes I think I should apologize for my attitudes, some will surely have been misunderstood, or I should say “it’s all my fault”.

But I defend myself, not to end up in a dark limbo, in which there is only a sense of guilt, but I must not condemn myself, I have already been punished, I have paid and I am still paying.

Then there are other moments in which the most natural thought comes to me: “it went like this … I have flaws and if other people don’t understand it as they don’t understand my moments of difficulty, well … maybe it’s not too bad to lose them”.

And we get lost among best and worst friends. You think you already have a hard time understanding yourself, let alone understanding others.

And you also get lost thinking that you don’t care about many things, that according to someone you have to behave in one way, but if on the one hand you are sorry, on the other you think about it and: “If they have done this to me there will be a reason, if in some cases I like it and in others I don’t, are we sure, after all, that I’m the only problem? “

Why would anyone other than me think they are right? It is only from his point of view.

I certainly can’t even say that I’m never wrong, absolutely. This would make me a too conceited person.

They say that people change for love, I have changed even though I have already lost it, along with the person I was fond of.

But I didn’t want it to be all in vain, all with pain and sorrow and endless prayers.

And then I began to want to understand everything, and I started to know myself, to analyze every emotion, every thought, the reason why there was everything ‘this mess.

I should let go of many things, basically I let myself be carried away by instinct, I wanted to be spontaneous, without forcing or doing who knows what to someone … disappearing in hugs and laughter.

I have changed, I have become even more like those who canceled me.

and now I have become much more careful, if things are there, we cannot deny their existence, just because someone is bothering them.

I can do my best, I can’t promise more. Certain defects remain, at most you express them differently.

At the end of this story I know at least that now I have the keys to change, to better manage relationships and my life.

Now I would know how to live with the person I keep thinking about, even if I can’t deny that many bad words have “flown”.

But lately I’ve been feeling spontaneous to connect with some people I didn’t think I could do this with.

I wonder if in the end we forgive ourselves, or maybe we never do, but we accept others and manage to move forward anyway.

Never stopped loving, after all, maybe I’m a fool.

Maybe I’m really paranoid and things like that, maybe a part of me, after all the things that have happened to me since I was a kid, has really gone crazy.

Or, I’m a normal person and sometimes, I get mad, what about? To each his own.

The? I am me and I take care of this.


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