I've always been quick to cry, my tears falling so fast.
But now, what is the reason behind my silent crying?
I've started swallowing my tears; they turn inward, staying still, accumulating.
I haven't stopped crying—my tears just flow into my chest now, piling up instead of falling out and drying away.
The tears that seem absent have become heavy on my soul.
My tears usually fall so fast,
but right now, I don't feel like crying at all.
There's a terrible pain inside me, as if I want to scream.
I feel suffocated,
impatient,
full of regret,
full of longing,
helpless,
like a failure,
and deeply disappointed…
and I can't even let the tears out.
How can we forget our old selves—the ones left there, suffering in the cold of loneliness and rejection?
How can we forget the version of us that endured so much?
For what sin was she abandoned? Tell me. I am certain it was not her fault.
Depression, sadness, weakness, need, and seeking refuge are not sins—believe me.
How can we forget the version of ourselves that brought us here?
The one that fought for us,
the one that suffered so much just to lift us up.
Tell me, how can I forget my old self, the one left there screaming in pain no one else could feel?
That cold she went through…
how can I forget the one who believed in me?
I am certain she is still there, waiting for a victory that will never come if I stay the same—
if I remain weak.
Truly, one who lives only by emotion does not last long.
That version of me gathered her wounds and healed her broken pieces,
picked up the fragments and turned them into the beginning of the end of weakness.
She tried to save me, and it is my duty to save her.
She set me free, and now I must set her free.
Goodbye… for now.
I don't know why my mind never finds rest, not even in my sleep.
I can't escape the burden of thinking—especially thinking about meaningless things with no benefit. Is it a chronic condition, I wonder? Or can I still fix it?
So much thinking… like running for miles with no destination, no arrival—just gasping from the exhaustion of the run.
What's strange is that even in my sleep, I dream about everything I thought of during the day.
What worries me is that all of it is nonsense—overanalyzing the smallest details, thinking about things I know are pointless and don't even matter to me.
I think about things that don't matter, and I analyze them endlessly.
Whoever said that not thinking is better than useless thinking was right.
Like what's happening to me now… I can't even sleep.
In the end, I realized that all my breakdowns happened after I was deceiving myself and forcing myself to cope with a situation that didn't suit me.
I found that I was pushing myself toward desires that didn't fit me.
I would laugh when I should have been crying.
I created chaos in my thoughts when I should have stayed calm and helped myself.
I looked for anything to change my feeling of loneliness instead of seeking something that could change my life.
I thought about things that didn't suit me.
I wish I had realized that being alone at times is good for myself so that I can rise later.
I wish I had realized that everything is temporary, and I should focus on what truly matters and will benefit me later.
None of all that will help me at another time.
Open your eyes.
And what then? Will I die?
Will I be sad? And what then?
I will not die while I see my fears before me.
I will face all my fears, and I will not die from them.
Those mental wastes are the reason what happened, the reason for what I felt.
Face all your fears. Stand at their edge. Watch them unfold, one after another.
Remember: you did not die. That left many wastes in your mind, but it will not break you—it did not crush you.
Breakdowns can be rebuilt, becoming stronger than before.
You are strong, and you will become stronger—remember that.
Do not allow that to happen again… no matter your mistakes, you have already paid a higher price.
Do not allow anything from now on to make you feel inferior.
The time has come to begin strength.
To cast away all that is fake.
The time has come to begin restoration ...