Alright.

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It's been a tough week.
A week full of relapses, cries, anxiety and sleepless nights.
Nights filled with horrifying dreams of people criticising my lifestyle.
A lifestyle so restless and never guilt-free.

I'm always like that in January. Always so sensitive, intolerant, anxious and insolent. It's like I'm growing old even though the whole world is being reborn with new wishes and hopes. With the foggy mornings, the voices in my head dwell within the uncertainty and the loneliness, and I listen to them, struggling as my own human voice sinks, fights for air, and drowns.

But it's okay, I guess. I need to breathe. I need to slow it down. Take it easy. Breathe again. Stick to today, the simple things that make me happy, the little joyous moments that make my soul so pure. Happiness is not something to be guilty about, it's a way to express gratitude. A smile is not a sign that I'm ignorant of the world's needs. I exist as an individual and sometimes, I don't need to carry the whole universe's cries on top of my shoulder.

I need to believe that I can be alright. I don't want to turn back. I want to make progress. I want to learn and grow, be healthy both emotionally and physically. I need to rid myself of those voices. I need to be free.

I'm far from okay, but I can be fixed.

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