The other day.
The other day, specifically day before yesterday, I had a terrible night. When night fell the demon in me started to hurt me with knife. It aksed 'how long will you pretend to be strong? Dont you still struggle to accept that you are alone?' Usually it doesn't hurt me much. But that night demon was strong. It blamed me, pushed me down a black hole. I couldn't resist but fall. I cried my eyes out. Gasped for air. Felt like that was the end of me.
That night, my dear, was a fight night. No. I dint stop my cry. I cried. Until the demon was satisfied. Until it felt that I'm finished and no one can save me anymore. I cried.
Once I faced all its questions that highlighted my weakness I slept. Next morning I woke up. No. Not with a smile. But a little more determined. A little more strong. A little more acceptance to my self.
This demon gains strength often and comes with a knife in the night. But next morning I see a little progress in my defense.
Little by little I give myself time, to accept, realise and understand my life.