Dear Irene, flashback to

JANUARY

Frail.

Had another haircut after recently cutting my hair that time. I was hating every moment of staying alive, it felt like breathing in soft air stabbed my chest, and closing my eyes were impossible. 

FEBRUARY

Felt like a rebirth. 

"If I manage to give a clear view of myself as for this present moment; myself - an utterly dark entity, black, not with a black cloak draping down my figure - just me with no colours.

Even if I can find myself and reach out to her hand to pull her out from drowning in the sea, it would take years. It would take, heck, probably over a decade to find myself back again, to build myself again. Somehow, maybe this is my reincarnation?"

But some days felt like purple clouds; when I was ardently enamoured. 

MARCH

The past haunted me again, pulling me back as I was barely latching on my only lifeline. He came back, dissatisfied with the way how I have been holding on. But I found myself a sanctuary, in a form of souls. They told me it's okay to let go of the only rope I thought would save me because it was clearly gripping me tighter than I did. 

APRIL

Some pieces of the shattered glass remained to cut me hard, I was clearly walking around eggshells, careful, for fear I would bleed in every step I took.

MAY

I put my studies on hold, father agreed that I couldn't be the best psychologist if I continued crying for days, unable to function as a student. I decided to address all of my heavy turbulent emotions, and take time for myself. I picked myself up from being surrounded by poison ivy. 

JUNE

My sister and I decided to get so much closer than before, sharing our painful dreams where she admitted, she experienced seeing me killing myself. The numbness in my chest intensified, for days in a row, I felt suffocated, as if my heart was compressed so hard. On some days, I would wake up gasping for air. 

JULY

Tranquil/Catharsis

I felt more comfortable sitting in silence, coated in soft & misty air from rainy days. Every morning felt like a new beginning and I started to pick up new habits, staying in a state of liberosis, getting immersed in my darkest melancholy as a means of catharsis. 

AUGUST

Altschmerz

I learned that I needed something for me to sublimate my anger and frustration into and that I was craving for a pain that I can feel and see on my skin. So I marked and drew lines on my arm using my lipstick, and I overworked out my body until body dysmorphia kicked in. 

SEPTEMBER 

Blossoming

They walked with me, they stayed by me and they gave a few torches for me to hold onto so I won't get lost again. I am still walking in this dark tunnel where monsters are still prying their hands on me, trying to drag me back, but I have torches now, so it's not as dark anymore. 

OCTOBER 

Kairosclerosis

This month felt euphoric, hyperactive, everything felt aligned and somewhat like fitting gently in one's calloused hands. I resumed my final semester, feeling enthusiastic while at the same time, I was getting a little bit passionate in romantic writing on most days. 

NOVEMBER

Novaturient 

Reconnected with nature - where I belong, of seaside and foamy waves, visiting extended family and established a closer relationship with them. Hearing advice from older women about what it takes to grow as one. It was therapeutic. 

Irene, now it marks the last day of

DECEMBER 

My dark seraphic took control. 

I acknowledge the importance of defending myself in the name of protecting my inner child, so I let her take over, not to protect her, but to reign over.

In the past few months, I showed myself that I am so much more than his words. I used to walk around clothing in those words, for fear that I carry myself around sanctimoniously. But I don't fear my own shadow anymore. I let her stand by me, leaving trails of her most real colour just so others know, I'm not a blank slate; in which they can paint on, and define to their liking. I'm grateful for being able to feel and experience pain, to be able to shed some blood and tears, because after all, I'm ephemeral.