I am not there yet.
I am just starting to pick myself up, piece by piece.
I am not there yet.
I can still hear some voices telling me to quit.
I am still shaking because of my anxiety.
I can still feel the pain of not being good enough.
I can still feel the temptation of lighting up another stick of cigarette.
I can still hide the sorrow behind a happy face.
I still can’t fully love myself.
I can still say I’m okay even if I’m not.
I am still crying alone at night.
I can still think of standing in the middle of the road, willingly to be hit by a car.
I can still find myself a rope or a belt to hang on the ceiling.
I am not there yet. I am not yet fully recovered. I am not healed. There are still wounds that needed to be treated.
I am trying to fix myself. I am a walking disaster with fresh wounds. But believe me, I’m trying.
I am fighting each day to win this battle against myself. Though, I am not there yet, I have faith that I can get through this. Maybe I just need a little more time and a little help.
I am seeing things going right on track with my life today. It helps me a lot to cope up. I know, maybe not today, but soon enough, I’ll be there.