Friday, January 2, 2015

Just Keep Breathing

A couple of weeks ago marked the one year anniversary of me being self-harm free. I’ve said that three times in the last ten years.

So much has happened in the last ten years; so much happened when I turned 17. I started cutting a few months after my birthday. My mom was diagnosed and passed away from pancreatic cancer. I discovered my passion for music. The Internet became my world. And so many other things happened.

It’s so weird to think it’s been ten years. Ten years of me fighting the urge to place a blade to my skin. At moments, it doesn’t seem like it’s been that long. And at other moments, it seems like a lifetime.

It saddens me.

It saddens me that cutting has been such a big part of my life. It saddens me that I’ve only been able to stop three times; the first time for a year, the second time for two & half years and this third time for one year.

I was so lost last fall (Oct-Dec 2013). I had a fight with my dad, I packed my bags and left home; I couldn’t handle living in a toxic environment any more. I ran to the only place I could think of, my “sanctuary” became my trigger. The people who were supposed to help me, pushed me over the edge.

I knew what I was doing was wrong. And I knew if I gave in, it would be so hard to stop. But it didn’t matter, I was alone. Truly, and utterly, alone.

I cut more in those three months, then I had EVER done. I couldn’t stop. I was emotionally spiraling out of control. I was grasping for anything. It was SO BAD.

At one point, it finally clicked in my head to just stop and breathe. My thoughts were racing; I had to force my brain and emotions to stop. I needed a break. I was sitting in a Starbucks, writing in my journal and listening to music. I was hiding.

“2 A.M., too tired to sleep
When what you want's not what you need
And when these walls don't feel like home
Remember that you're not alone…

When heaven seems so far away
And dreams are just a memory
When love is all too hard to hold
Just take a breath and let it...

Go whoa oh, whoa whoa oh, whoa whoa oh
Just keep breathing, breathing, breathing
Whoa whoa oh, whoa whoa oh, whoa whoa oh
Just keep breathing, breathing, breathing”

I went to my dad the next day, we worked out our problems and I moved back in. I learned that sometimes being in a hard place is better than being in no place at all. And that good really does come from bad.

It was so hard to stop; almost unbearable.

I remember lying on my bed and forcing myself not to move. It took over an hour, but the urge finally passed. One afternoon I was walking in the hardware store with my dad, and we walked down an aisle with every type of blade ever made by man. And I craved them, like I never craved anything before. My skin ached and I became jittery. I was an addict hurting for a fix.

As the months have passed, the lust has subsided, but it’s always there. And I know it always will be. I will always struggle with self-harm and depression. But as long as I remember to breathe, I know I can make it to the next hour and to the next aisle and through my life.