Recovery - Margaret

It has been long since I had dealt with the fire that had destroyed my chance at fixing my life, since then I have recovered both mentally and physically. I am starting a journal to deal with stress and my confused and broken emotions, I personally would usually think an act like this would be childish, but I force myself to do so. My leg is better now, but it still makes that irritating clicking noise every now and again, but not too often.

I’ve realized now that trying to cure my ailment was a pointless act that I will never again repeat, I’m not afraid of death anymore and I’ll accept it when it comes. For now I’ll live life how I should. Maybe I’ll make new friends and finish my life happily. For now I’m bitter and alone, it is a rough start, but it is only the beginning of my road to recovery.

Second entry. It appears that I do not have as much time left as I had originally planned. As I am writing now my head pains only seem to be growing at an exponentially high rate. Aspirins and other headache medications do not work any longer, which only extends my fear. I knew this day would eventually come, but I did not expect it so soon.

With the deliverance of this news I also bare more tragic news. I have failed. I could not harness a shred of happiness before my ever closer demise. I don’t feel compelled enough to write any further because this pencil has gotten much harder to keep a grasp on.

I suppose I shall finish my last entry with a sincere apology to all of those I haven’t treated fairly in the past, but no one will read this.