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Feels a bit like my life. I just doubt that I ever had my shit together. I ran away from pain and problem and tried to make everyone happy with who I pretended to be.

At 48 one piece at a time it all came down crashing: one or two or five pieces at a time. Like dominos they hit each other, marriage lost, love lost that perhaps never was. I would say that I am finding myself with two children in front of deep darkness.

I often think about suicide, but is it the ultimate attempt to run away from the mess I created or, rather, let other create? Why not trying to see if I can be and stop saying yes.

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