Up until about almost a year ago I was a seriously dangerous cutter. To the point I should have gotten stitches multiple times, but didn’t because I was in control. I decided when I got to heal. I would bleed for weeks and then pick open the scabs because I didn’t feel like I needed or deserved to heal.
In November I’ll be a whole year clean from the last purposeful cut I made on my body. Everyday I have to fight the demons that want to take me out and everyday I overcome them. I was so close to throwing in the towel and finally being successful in my suicidal attempts.` I didn’t know what was up or down, left or right. Nothing made sense and I was numb to the core. But a really good friends’ mom called me out of the blue the day I planned to end it all after staying up all night cutting and feeling unsatisfied and she saved my life. I had always admired her because she was always there, but just assumed she didn’t really notice or care about me and honestly if she hadn’t called me when she did I wouldn’t be here today. I got the correct help I needed with her support and help and I am leaps and bounds further than I ever thought possible
I also had to accept that my family will never understand nor sympathize with mental health problems and that they’re part of the reason I felt the way I did. I love them, but from afar and in person only a few times a year. I love that I’m still here and while I still face challenges everyday I’m glad I choose to Stay;