I am not so sure about their mental health struggles

Lately I quite often came across articles about brave women sharing their stories of being abused and their recovery. Between abuse and recovery was of course a time of self blame, addictions, acting out, dramatic…

I’ve spent most of my life thinking I was crazy.

I’ve spent most of my adult life thinking I was crazy. Not being sure. Whether I am crazy or others are. Maybe all of us are crazy. If others are, I must be crazy too to keep being in relationship with them.

That’s why I don’t write to you as often. Because I want to make sure, that what I write is well thought through and that it makes sense. I try to do my best not to mislead people. I don’t want to write something in the heap of emotion that I would regret later. or even worse, something that would have a negative impact on someone.

I am still a child when it comes to emotions.

I looked myself in the mirror today in the morning and the thought that came to me was “You are still a child when it comes to emotions.”

There was no disapproval in that thought, I was just stating the fact to myself.

To be continued. Part 1.

It is the Friday of the first working week in 2021 and I feel like I’ve already lost the game. I feel distracted. I literally feel distracted right now. My dog is rolled in a cutest little puffy ball and I need to go hug him, I don’t want to miss this moment.

I am impressed by you

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about about people in my life. The mental exercise that I gave you with the first post on this blog titled “It’s better to have 7 people who love you than one million people who just like you” is making wonders for me. In this post I am taking that simple mental exercise to he next level, by thinking about people who I find impressive. Continue reading if you are ready to be filled up with gratitude.

Random thoughts: #1

The boldest act of a feminist today is being a housewife.   Random thoughts is a category on my blog where I share with you random thoughts from my journal.  Love, Anita ***