I’m afraid to say i’m back because the darkness that follows me might hear me be too cocky in my recovery and try a little harder. or perhaps i’m afraid to tell my friends i’m making progress and then regress. I want to be back so badly. I keep going back to 3 birthdays ago. fresh buzz cut. last time i felt truly calm, even though there was a tornado ripping trees from the ground outside, i felt good. waking up in a familiar place, with people who loved me. so much possibility. i suppose it’s all about habits, and the habits I’ve developed have become something hard to let go of. harder than that, it’s like they’ve become part of my inner voice and they’re so good at convincing me that, maybe just one, maybe this time it’ll be different, Maybe this time they won’t leave. And i’m scared to begin because i’m scared i won’t be the same i was last time i tried. What if I can’t face the failure? my therapist says that’s a good thing. not being who i was. but who i am isn’t somebody i like.