Just one more time…

I’m really fine today. I feel fresh and free and cheerful. Of course I don’t know whether I’m allowed to enjoy it because:

I wanted to, just one more time. Once more have this feeling before therapy really starts. One try to create a remaining scar. Just one more time where I don’t think. Once more have this incredible clarity. Feel the pain later and just one more time surrender as there just is no substitute.

It works so well. It’s so dysfunctional.

I shouldn’t be surprised about my good mood, if this deceitful good feeling didn’t exist I would have stopped a long time ago. Nevertheless it’s sad that I’m scared that I might never feel so great again without this little aid.
I also shouldn’t be surprised about it being so easy – when a thousand little triggers create a picture and I go and get bandages with somnambulistic confidence before going to the bathroom. At that moment the triggers suddenly don’t matter: The compliment from a know-it-all, the cutter at work, the gills of a fish, the nightmare from the night before. It all doesn’t matter when redemption is near.

I decide to enjoy today nevertheless, I want to allow myself this good mood with which I’ve infected other people as well.


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