Without energy. Again and again. I already thought it would be good and fine and that I was getting better. After all, I started sanding the doors so that I could change their design. I started cooking and not just eating what I could found in the fridge. Maybe I started too early. Or too late. You’re worth shit. Thank you.

After all, I was taking small steps all the time and then probably interspersed it with a seven-mile step.
I haven’t even heard of my Prague friends. As soon as a person falls out of the rhythm of the city, he will be forgotten.
I remember one of the last conversations with one of my friends: “Will you be like extending year on this school? Again?!“
„Excuse me?!“
Oh, how I wish I didn’t extend one more year. But judging is always easier way, right? But I can’t judge anyone. And if I can judge anyone at all, just myself.

Weak piece. However, it is my fault. My fault and no one else’s. Depression is my fault. Poor levels of neurotransmitters in my brain are my fault. Anxiety – my fault. For-itself – my fault. That I didn’t reach out in time and said: „please help“ – my fault. That I didn’t show the flag – my fault. But when I showed the flag, it was my fault that there was a threat of extending a year, because I was already drowning at that time. My mistake again. And I can’t stand in front of a mirror and say those nice things that I wish someone else would tell me.

The only thing I can do while looking in the mirror is to watch the person who smiles falsely at me, moves her lips, and I just read two simple words from them, which are repeated like a broken tape recorder – Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.