Whenever I say I'm going to make a blog post, I never do.
When I don't say I'm going to make a blog post, I do.
Whoa.
So crazy.
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Tuesday, the 23rd, was day 1000 of me being self harm free. No longer do I take a razor blade and press it into the skin of my wrists, thighs, stomach, or shoulders. No longer do I take something hot, like a lighter, candle, oven racks, burners, or hot pans, and touch them to my skin to burn me. I would add in that I no longer pull out my own hair and eat it*, but I do still pull my hair out at times. A few months ago I did have to get my hair cut because of it. But I've cut back significantly.
I used to do all that, though.
I used to do it all a lot.
But all things considered, I don't anymore.
For 1000 extremely tough days, I haven't done any of it (save for hair pulling.. but I sort of don't consider it "self harm"**).
And I'm proud of myself.
Tuesday was a good day. It started off pretty normally as normal as a day is around here. One of the girls gave me a balloon and I still have it and it makes me happy. A lot of things have happened in those 1000 days. Not everything in those days has been good. In fact, there's a lot of bad things that has happened between then and now.
Extremely personal things that I'll probably never discuss publicly on here, and that I'm more comfortable talking about it privately. So if you want to know some of my dirty laundry, if you will, shoot me an email and we can talk.
But a lot of good things have happened too.
And I think that's why I never gave up. But oh my gosh, how I wanted to. And oh my gosh, how I attempted to. I'm okay with throwing to the world that I attempted not once, not twice, but three times to take my life. I have. And (as maybe you might be able to tell) none of the attempts worked. At the time, I was so pissed off and angry that "I wasn't doing it right" or that "something was going wrong".
In a way, the latter part of that is true. Something was wrong.
I was ignoring the fact that I needed to still be here. I need to be here still. Apparently I didn't know at the time that there's a big whole world out there that I need to see and discover. And I know that was Heavenly Father telling me that. I know it.
I haven't attempted to take my life since September 5th, 2012. I haven't intentionally hurt myself since September 26th, 2012. Just over 1000 days ago. And almost three years.
I love my life now. I love my family***. I love my friends. Sure, I would never expect me to be here right where I am right now, but I'm not where I was last year. I was homeless almost a year ago. I literally had to sleep in a park in July because I didn't have anywhere to go.
I could have given up. But I pushed through. And sometimes you have to push through a lot of crap. Some people have more crap than others, and that's okay. Keep pushing through it. The view is pretty cool. I promise.
I don't give up anymore. If I want something, I'm going to fight tooth and claw for it. No one is the person they were a year ago, and I love who I am now over who I was a year ago. My "character development", if you will, impresses me. I look back on the things I was doing last year and I'm so happy I am where I am.
1000 days.
I didn't just kill it. I'm still killing it.
Let's go another 1000 days.
And then look back on this post in two and a half years.
I love you.
* = Trichotillomania is a real thing. Educate yourself. Link here. It doesn't talk about hair eating, but the term for hair eating is Trichophagia. Link about that is here. Trich is a super personal and generally a private thing for people because it's pretty embarrassing. But I'm glad people are starting to learn more about it.
** = I don't think of Trich as being "self harm" although some people may disagree. Trich is a disorder, yes, that can harm you, but I personally (AKA my opinion, man) wouldn't say it's self harm. Even though it does harm you. Agree to disagree.
*** = I love the family who loves me. Some people are not your family just because they live with you and share the same last name with them.
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