What the fuck is wrong with me. I hate it when you think you're doing okay, then one small thing can make all your progress count for nothing. I seriously thought I was perfectly fine, or that I should be by now. But then I came across this photo and all old scars ripped open once again like eternal wounds. I keep asking myself if I'm over it, if I'm better, but I guess this proves that some things never heal. With people, I can bring up the topic easily, and I will not waver as long as I do not linger on the idea. I am blunt, I am light about it to avoid letting the heavy feeling sink in. But these sudden outbursts of sadness and the severe mood swings are obviously a manifestation of what I am too much of a coward to face. I will never be 100% better, I don't think. But maybe one day I will be able to fully accept it, and then I will stop running.