We are a different species. Nobody can actually understand us; others can only accept that we exist. But honestly, that's enough, as lack of acceptance is one of the factors that kills us in the first place.
I don't know how it is to want to live. I just don't. If I had ever known, I forgot when I was five or six.
Why? What for? For this pain? For never-ending torment?
I can never predict when it will hit me. But it's easier to function knowing I'm not free from this burden. It is part of me; it's me, and I cannot deny myself. That's what the costly therapy taught me.
The first baby step is to accept and love all your parts, even if no one in this world would do that. I'm sorry, especially when no one would do that.
I was so tired of searching for the will of life in me that this effort was consuming the remnants of strength I had left. So, I stopped. I simply live life as it is, day by day.
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