I thought it was my fault. Nobody has ever talked about it since it happened but I have never forgotten. Every time I think I have dealt with it I do something, the same thing, over and over that confirms that the wound has never healed.
I thought writing about it would help me heal. It hasn’t.
It is hard for me to trust, not to blame myself for everything that does not go as it should, to look forward to a future that is different.It’s killing me.
Did I say hard? I mean, almost impossible for me to trust, I would rather see a fault than what is great about a person, place or situation.
I keep falling back and forth between being extremely pessimistic and just dreaming, in my own world, reality if you like.
Am tired
