Books On Self Healing Novels & Stories

He deserves it for not bringing me any breakfast. My stomach growls as I keep exploring my new room. There are books all over the place. I pull out A Healer’s Encyclopedia, A Collection of Diseases and Ailments, and A Compendium of Poisons from the shelves. One dusty book stands out to me. Experiments: Book One is scrawled in nearly unreadable handwriting on the thick spine. I flip it open to a random page. Wolves Healing Times is written in messy letters at the top of the parchment.

No medicine gets rid of it and I have to suffer through. Except, when I’m with Harper, the pain becomes dull and nearly nonexistent. It fades, allowing me to think clearly, each time she’s near me for more than a few minutes. I found the change interesting, so I looked into it and found a book on healers written years ago. I read up on people who have healing abilities. The book stated that people with natural healing magic have an aura around them that sometimes works without the healer being intentional. The book made it sound like, if the healer is powerful enough, the healing ability can’t be contained.

"The Moonstone Pack makes those human reality shows look tame by comparison." She finished arranging my mugs and turned to face me, her expression growing more serious. "Now, what's this serious matter you wanted to discuss? You sounded mysterious on the phone." I took a deep breath. This was the part I was excited about—a fresh start, something that was mine alone. "I'm starting my own healing practice," I announced, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. "Based on my parents' 'Winter's Remedy' methodology." Sarah's eyes widened. "Really? That's fantastic!"

“You’re not allowed to die right now, okay?” He groaned in response. That was not comforting. My eyes darted to the box of spellbooks I had dropped. I crawled over, threw the lid off, and started flipping through the titles like a madwoman. Finally I came across a small green leather book with little vine engravings curling up the spine. “Oh my god.” My heart thudded. “This is it.” The book of healing magic. I didn’t need to read the title. I remembered it. Isaac and I had practically used that book like a first aid kit growing up. Scraped knees, magic rashes, spider bites—you name it, this book fixed it.

"Feeling resentful because of someone else's mistake is like drinking poison but hoping that the other person feels your pain." I was struck dumb when I heard that. After being tormented by a one-sided relationship and becoming all bruised and battered, I felt like I was being tied down by chains that I couldn't free myself from. At the same time, I couldn't restore the relationship either. Yet, the key to unlocking the chains was always in my hands. I was never in the wrong. My only mistake was not having a clear view of my situation and saving myself earlier. However, subconsciously, I felt like I did not deserve to be loved. I wasn't good enough for Matthias.

She made coffee, and stood in her kitchen feeling the weight of the previous night settling into her bones. She knew it wasn't going to be easy to completely heal from him. Healing wasn't linear—she'd read that somewhere, probably in one of the self-help articles she'd consumed during her darkest moments or was it YouTube? Healing was a process that took time, that had setbacks, that didn't happen just because you decided it should.

Ha, like I would even go to a party if my life depended on it. Should I take his apple laptop? Nah, not good enough, I know it would affect him but what the heck would I do with it that I can't do on my phone?. I need something which would affect him and benefit me at the same time. Don't look at me like that, I'm not selfish, he deserves it and it's selfLove tho. Munching on my favourite biscuit, an idea struck, *food* yeah food!. I jumped of my bed and did a booty shake. I can see your face now, told u am crazy.

The fact that we had no idea what we were looking for made things harder than they already were. In his room, I found endless books about self-care, self-love, emotional health, and healing. This is the strangest thing I found about Hickman since I’d taken an interest in his life. How can a man who owns an overflowed set of inspirational books hurt a kid like Bobby? This just doesn’t make sense.

That afternoon, Celina sat down in front of her laptop. She picked up the chapter she had left unfinished the day before, writing about reunions—with her own essence, her self-esteem, her forgotten dreams. The words flowed as if the energy of the morning had fed her creativity. When her body began to feel heavy, she remembered her tasks for Thaís. She recorded three short videos—one about the importance of silence in the healing process, another on how relationships shape the way we see ourselves, and a third on the value of rebuilding.

"This book is about a girl who sold herself to a stranger. It is about a man who bought her and fell in love with her. It is about fear and hope and love and loss. But most of all, it is about finding the courage to be yourself." She looked at Ezra. His eyes were wet. "I wrote this book because I needed to heal," she said. "But I am publishing it because I want to help others heal. I want to show people that it is okay to be scared. It is okay to fall apart. It is okay to ask for help. And it is okay to love, even when it terrifies you." The crowd applauded. Vienna stepped down from the podium. Ezra pulled her into his arms.