Loneliness

Hi, my name is PioneeringIora796. I'm here because
I suffer from depression and ptsd. Çhavevme feeling stuck with no way out at times caused me to use drugs for 30 some years been sober for just under a year buy are still depressed and lonely feeling verybisalated#MightyTogether

So my therapist diagnosed me with OCD. Phew- a relief because now there's nothing fundamentally wrong with me. But what do I do next? Any practical suggestions on how to deal with the feelings of:

1. extreme people pleasing,

2. feeling like you're constantly being watched and judged

3. Constantly feeling misunderstood

4. Persistent feelings of loneliness, isolation and alienation and preoccupation with social connections

5. Debilitating fear of failure

#ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #coping

Pauley went to work today. She'll be there till at least 10 pm . For some reason I'm craving cider donuts. I'll be able to get some on Sunday. We're going to the Canterbury village Michigan made event. There's a store front for Yates cider mill. They have some really delightful treats like 10 different flavors of fudge, cinnamon sugar cider donuts, apple butter, mini apple pie and ice cream nachos with sugar cone chips. It's one of my favorite things about Michigan.
On Saturday we're going to the transgender pride in the park. There will be vendors, music, snackies... It's put together by the trans woman who started the national trans day of rememberance. We have a strong presence here in the Detroit metro area.
I've been trying to avoid it but I keep browsing Etsy for collars . I found a few that I really like. We are planning to have Pauley collar me in November but she's not helping me and she won't let me plan it so I don't know what to think. It's very important to me. But if it doesn't happen I will try to not be upset.
My scalp is horrible. Big scabs, flaking, bleeding, sharp pain, it hurts so much. We're gonna try to find a new dermatologist.

When I finished Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, I realized it wasn’t just a story—it was a mirror. It reminded me that loneliness doesn’t mean emptiness, and that healing often begins in the smallest, quietest corners of our lives.

I think many of us in this community understand what it feels like to start over, to search for anchors when life feels adrift. This book doesn’t give us dramatic answers, but it does offer companionship—the kind that whispers, “you’re not alone in this.”

So I’d love to hear from you:
💭 Have you ever had a “Morisaki moment”—a place, a book, or even a person that gave you shelter when life felt too heavy?

Your stories matter, and just like in Morisaki’s shop, sharing them may be the gentle light someone else needs today.

📚 Spoiler Alert: This review touches on some key elements of the story, though I’ll keep the heart of it intact for you to discover.

Picture this:
A rain-drenched Tokyo evening. Neon reflections ripple across empty pavements. In the heart of Jimbocho, where bookshops stand shoulder to shoulder like silent guardians of memory, a young woman steps into a dimly lit secondhand store. The air smells of ink, dust, and forgotten stories. She does not know it yet, but this little shop—Morisaki Bookshop—will become her sanctuary, her turning point, her quiet revolution.

There are books that dazzle us with plot twists and thrill us with action. And then there are books that simply hold our hand when life feels too heavy, gently reminding us that healing can be found in the most unexpected corners. Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa belongs to the latter—an unassuming yet luminous tale that feels like a warm cup of tea on a rainy afternoon.

A Shop Full of Silence, Yet Full of Life

The story begins with Takako, a young woman stumbling through heartbreak and exhaustion. Life seems bleak until her eccentric uncle Satoru invites her to stay at his secondhand bookshop in Jimbocho, Tokyo’s “book town.” The shop itself becomes a character—dusty shelves, the smell of old paper, and the strange comfort of being surrounded by stories larger than your own.

It isn’t just about reading books. It’s about rediscovering yourself in their quiet presence.

Why This Book Feels So Precious

I picked up this novel expecting a light, cozy read. What I didn’t expect was the emotional honesty that seeped through its pages. The narrative doesn’t shout; it whispers. And in that whisper, it delivers some of life’s greatest truths:

Loneliness can be a beginning, not just an ending.

We heal not by escaping life, but by embracing its small, overlooked details.

Sometimes, the people who seem the most peculiar are the ones who rescue us.

As a doctor, as a mother, and as someone who knows what it feels like to start over, I found myself seen in Takako’s hesitant steps toward self-discovery. Her struggles felt tenderly human—never dramatized, never trivialized.

A Humanitarian touch

What struck me most is how Yagisawa doesn’t present books as mere escapism. They’re portrayed as tools of connection. In a world that often feels loud and fractured, this novel is a gentle reminder that humanity can be preserved through simple acts: offering a book, listening without judgment, or inviting someone into your small, imperfect world.

The bookshop becomes a sanctuary not just for Takako, but for anyone who has ever felt displaced in life. And isn’t that, in a way, what we all crave? A place where our stories matter, even if only to one other person.

The Catchy Bits

A dusty Tokyo bookshop that smells like rain and nostalgia.
A quirky uncle whose grumpiness hides oceans of kindness.
A protagonist who doesn’t “fix” her life overnight—but learns to breathe again.
Lines that feel like they were written for you, especially if you’ve ever felt lost.

Final Thoughts

Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is not a book you devour; it’s one you savor. It leaves you with a quiet ache, the kind that lingers after meeting someone who changed you in subtle, unspoken ways.

This isn’t just a novel about books—it’s about the human need to be held, understood, and gently guided back to ourselves.

So if life feels overwhelming, and you’re searching for something tender yet powerful, let this little Japanese gem find its way to your shelf. It won’t just tell you a story—it will sit beside you, patiently, until you’re ready to turn the page of your own life again.

Rating: 5/5 – A timeless comfort read that humanizes loneliness and celebrates the healing power of books.

Closing Note

When I closed Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, I didn’t feel like I had just finished a novel. I felt as though I had quietly shared a season of my life with Takako, sitting beside her in that little Tokyo shop, breathing in the smell of worn pages and new beginnings. Some books dazzle; this one simply stays. It lingers in your chest, whispering that even in loneliness, there is a soft doorway back to hope.

And perhaps that’s why this novel matters so much—not because it shouts wisdom, but because it teaches us to find beauty in the small, unspoken gestures of living.

If you’ve ever been lost, or if you’re searching for a book that feels like a companion more than a story, let Morisaki Bookshop keep you company. Who knows? You might just discover that the shelves are not only lined with books, but with pieces of yourself waiting to be found again.