Elizazra𖤐

a girl who writes when the world is too loud

whispers, scars, and stories without endings

This year has been a difficult one for me.

Changes happened in my life, both in my family and mentally. I started working on myself, and honestly, I don’t even know how I got here.

But now I’m happy. I’m no longer the one who hides, who was closed off, afraid to speak her mind. Not anymore.

3 years later, I’m back. Still me, but not quite the same.

Maybe once in a while, I’ll post here every day. This will be my little diary.

For a long time, I thought there was something wrong with me. That the constant pressure in my chest was a flaw others didn’t have. I learned to smile in moments when I felt empty, and to stay silent when I wanted to scream. It was easier to pretend that everything was fine than to explain the chaos inside me.

My inner battle wasn’t visible. It played out in small things — in how I got out of bed in the morning, in how long I could stare at the ceiling, wondering whether I’d even manage that day. It wasn’t that I was weak. I was just tired of always trying to be strong.

Healing didn’t come like a miracle. It wasn’t one moment when everything suddenly changed. It came quietly. In small decisions — admitting that something hurts. Allowing myself not to be okay. Stopping punishing myself for being who I am, or for allowing myself to be okay even when everything isn’t perfect.

Gradually, I began to understand that my emotions aren’t the enemy. They’re a part of me. And when I stopped running from them, they stopped chasing me.