Thanks to the latest Dolmen videos I watched, I realized that the spirituality that once saved me slowly became a prison. I wanted so badly to survive, to improve, to become a better version of myself — and above all, not to end up like my father.

I didn’t notice the forward escape I had been running for years. I thought I was wiser, more awakened, more spiritual than others.

Maybe I’ve lost myself again on the path. I’ve thought so much, reasoned so much, tried to understand everything to get out, to be better than those I saw destroying themselves and the world around them. I see now how I’ve complicated everything, how I’ve built my own labyrinth and got lost inside it — all while believing I was above others.

In the end, I’m just a hollow being, lonely and longing like everyone else. Thirsty for recognition and attention I’ve never truly received. Trying to scream my pain to the world with my mouth sewn shut, unable to express myself clearly, lacking the words or codes to be understood. Always blaming others for not understanding me, desperately searching for someone to decode me, searching for the key to my mind outside myself.

I used to think liberation would be my salvation — that if I reached it, I’d stop suffering, everything would be beautiful. I was convinced I was destined for it, that I was special. But after all these years of healing, therapy, learning, reflection, I now see the limits of the box I’ve built around my own mind — me, who thought I could experience the infinite. I find myself a prisoner of myself.

Today, I sit humbly with all these thoughts. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore or pretend.

I’m not well, and I must acknowledge the gaping hole that’s been growing in my chest since birth. I could ask for help — I probably should — but I don’t have the resources. I want to believe I’m already helped, guided by my ancestors, my angels, my masters, and all awakened beings. I can make it. I will make it.

If I’ve come this far, it’s thanks to my determination, my strength, and my courage to keep moving forward no matter the pain. If I’ve lived all this suffering and carry this sensitivity, it’s not for nothing. I will make peace with my shadows and finally shine with all my light.

I’ve locked myself in solitude, believing it was my only way, because the world feels too loud, too harsh for me. I convinced myself it was my initiatory path, because I don’t fit in society.

And yes, many great masters lived in retreat — so if they did, maybe I can too.

But I’m neither completely alone nor truly part of the world. I don’t find my place, and I don’t know how to.