The power of two hands

I was already feeling that voice of sadness whispering in my head when my boyfriend left for home.

"You're alone, again" said that voice. It kept nagging at me. I closed my eyes, took a plunge onto my bed and entertained that voice. I told her, "So you're there again. Just because I'm physically alone, you're already taking advantage of my vulnerability."

And I knew then, that self-talk, that self-awareness that I was starting to feel sad, that I had to do something.

And I did. I forced myself up from the bed. I looked around me. A messy vanity table. And that buzzing vibrating sound from the aquarium's oxygen.

The sight and the sound that irritated me became my reason for my cleaning therapy. Yes, cleaning is also a therapy.

I haven't had my talk therapy for two months already. So I knew I had to make my way to help myself. An incident almost two months ago sort of pulled me back from getting my talk therapy. That's a different story.

So, I helped myself. I got my hands that cleaned the mess and removed the irritating sound . I also got my heart that desired to help myself.

My still living and breathing self and the desire to help that self... powerful.