irregularreconcile
i'm such a coward; these wretched things i do
- Jun 15, 2023
- 65
A journal entry for 10/17/23.
The title is what I've been dreaming on a lot today. I didn't have the best therapy session and tried to do some art, but felt more comfort in myself than I have in a while.
Creating and using my tools before I eventually will pass is making me feel whole. In the next 2 years I see myself able to express the sickness and beauty of my chronically ill mind and leave an impact for the people I leave behind. I love love love making art, and I feel now that it's ok if I can't create everything I want to. I am making an impact, even if I will leave one day.
Therapy has been weird because I still feel like I'm talking to a wall for the first time in ages, compared to other treatment I've gotten. I feel comfortable and safe in my horror, longing for my strange happenings, yet people aren't seeing it and want me to live until old age. My art is my friend, though, and I will live on a better life through what I do one day.
I think my death will be a celebration, not a curse. No one else in my life right now can see that, but maybe I'd like some reassurance for it? Haven't I suffered enough?
If you read my journal entries, thanks. Regardless, I hope everyone has as good of a day as possible <3
The title is what I've been dreaming on a lot today. I didn't have the best therapy session and tried to do some art, but felt more comfort in myself than I have in a while.
Creating and using my tools before I eventually will pass is making me feel whole. In the next 2 years I see myself able to express the sickness and beauty of my chronically ill mind and leave an impact for the people I leave behind. I love love love making art, and I feel now that it's ok if I can't create everything I want to. I am making an impact, even if I will leave one day.
Therapy has been weird because I still feel like I'm talking to a wall for the first time in ages, compared to other treatment I've gotten. I feel comfortable and safe in my horror, longing for my strange happenings, yet people aren't seeing it and want me to live until old age. My art is my friend, though, and I will live on a better life through what I do one day.
I think my death will be a celebration, not a curse. No one else in my life right now can see that, but maybe I'd like some reassurance for it? Haven't I suffered enough?
If you read my journal entries, thanks. Regardless, I hope everyone has as good of a day as possible <3