TWO YEARS

I've attempted to write this post so many times. Every time I start, I can't find the right words to say what I feel or what's in my head. Because all the words and thoughts I have, aren't adequate. I don't know words that are sufficient for what I want to say.

I don't think there are words.

I’ve been anticipating writing this post for a few months. And now that the time is here, I’m hesitant, because I didn’t know if I’ll do it justice.

The beginning of September marked two years since I’ve been self-harm free.

It’s hard for me to form words to explain how that makes me feel. Honestly, I just want to cry. Because I am too overwhelmed with amazement to fathom the concept of two years self-harm free.

There are days where it feels longer. And then there’s days that seem like I just cut the day before or the hour before.

There are days where I feel strong enough to say “NO!” to the urge. And then there are days, where I’m saying “…no…” through quench teeth.

But there is always a next day; another day for me to fight. I might not always have the strength or power to fight. But I have the opportunity too, and the knowledge that I can.

Deal Breakers

I love this video. I think sometimes we can get so focused on an end "result" when we're in romantic relationships that we forget that relationships take two people. And a good thriving romantic relationship takes two whole people on the same page.

Actually, any relationship takes two people being on the same page.

There's been a lot of family drama on Mr Grumpy's side the last few months and it's had me thinking a lot about a person's character and morals. If you don't like or line up with someone's character or morals, there's a big possibility there will be strife in that relationship.

I've come to realize that honor, integrity and respect mean a lot to me. These are my deal breakers.

What are your deal breakers for relationships?

Irony

I’ve been writing in a blog since 2004. When I first started writing, I bounced around a bit using different sites.  But I always made sure to save my entries. I never wanted to lose my thoughts, I knew they were important. At one point I gathered them all into one private blog.

The last few weeks, I’ve been digging through this old blog. It’s so weird to see the things I wrote about a few years ago. My obsession with Michael Rosenbaum, a bad break-up with a boyfriend, all my posts about depression and self-harm, concerts I’ve been to; so many memories I hardly remember now. But they’re all there. The good, the bad, the ugly and the heartbreaking – all of my memories kept in one safe and protected blog.

It’s so weird looking at them all, gathered liked that.

The first time I cut. The first time I burned myself. The turmoil of my mother’s passing. All my suicide attempts documented. How my heart broke over my first love.

It’s so strange to have my whole life in one place, in a mere 412 entries. Nine (9) years of life, you’d think there’d be more. That the posts would be longer, more detailed. But it’s not. It’s short, messy and to the point. Ironic isn’t it?