I Think its Time to Say Goodbye

Five years ago I was lost and broken. I had no hope and I loathed myself. I went through the motions of day to day life, I went to college, I did what I had to to seem normal all the while I was in the center of an epic battle. I was full of sorrow and anxiety and somewhere along the way found myself coping with it all in an "unhealthy" way. I started to be careless, I wanted someone to just say the right thing and save me from myself, from the pain. When that didn't happen I started to hurt myself 20+ times a day, I didn't care if I lived or died. Every day was the same, where can I escape to to cut or where can I do it so it wont be seen, for awhile there I didn't even care what I used as long as it was sharp. I'd lost myself. Five years ago today, though, I hit rock bottom, and I hit it hard. I couldn't do it, I couldn't face the pain any longer, the nauseating anxiety, I couldn't do it, I wasn't strong enough. I was ready to die. I ended up in the psych ward where they didn't fix everything, but they set me in the right direction. The first few days were tough, i felt like id let everyone down. My sister two states away calling me very much upset and my little brother having to visit me there on his birthday, and my parents almost completely clueless to what had been going on, angeleah who risked our entire friendship trying to save me. My head was full of negative racing thoughts, I had screwed up. It wasn't til then that I realized how many people I had in my army,how I wasn't just in the fight alone, and I had a second chance.


Fast forward five years to today. It has been quite the rollercoaster. I've pushed myself beyond what I thought were my limits, I've done things that make me extremely uncomfortable to become a better person and to not let my anxiety keep me down. I've met amazing people who all played a little part in my recovering even though they most likely don't even know it, I could never have lasted this long alone. I've been through two therapists, one psychiatrist, a ton of different meds, and a girlfriend who wont let me quit no matter how much I want to. Five years and pretty much every day is a battle still, but these days I win more often than not. I get urges, I've relapsed and quit again many times, it isn't all rainbows and sun shines, but it sure as hell isn't a huge black cloud threatening to swallow me whole anymore. I'm in a good spot; I have found a place that I feel like I belong and am doing what I love to do, helping people; and my story and my experiences make me relatable in ways that others aren't, I see things differently, i don't judge mental illness or addiction, i understand what people are going through, and i like that. I wouldn't have that if I hadn't had to fight my own battle.


All of this is why I am saying goodbye. This chapter of my life is closing. I started this blog so that others could read it and know that they aren't alone and so that people who didn't understand self harm could maybe learn something. I didn't think much would really come of it, but in the end a handful of people messaged me for help or to talk and that's awesome. I'm not disappearing forever, I will still get messages and comments people post,but I think its time for me to move forward.


Until the next blog I decide to start,
Sara Benson

I Think its Time for More than Baby Steps

It isn't fair, really, being a crazy and all..i never asked for this fate of mine, I didn't do anything to deserve this.




But I must live with it, whether I like it or not. I cant run, I cant hide from my demons, I cant let bipolar and self harm hold me back. I won't, and that's hard sometimes.




Its been almost five years since I was admitted to Fairfax. Five, long, tough, tiring years. I have come so far. Often times I have to remind myself of that. Remind myself how far I've come from rock bottom, how much I have overcome. I have proven myself.




I find it easy to start to feel shame and defeat, though. Shame in where I have been, shame in my desire, my need, to go to a blade to fix the mess in my head. Shame that that even exists in my life. Defeat because I should be so much farther in life. I should have graduated college, healthy, doing something great.




But who would I be then? If all I did was go to college and go the normal path.... I wouldn't have had to fight a battle that has made me stronger than ever, I wouldn't have been able to connect with so many people and be relatable to so many people who just need someone who understands the struggle, I wouldn't have been able to appreciate the small things in life like I do now, I wouldn't appreciate the feeling of happiness, I wouldn't have hit rock bottom and been able to start anew.




Somewhere along the way, in the last year, I decided that baby steps weren't going to cut it for me anymore, I needed to make strides, to go all in and push myself farther than I ever had before. I had to allow myself to try new things and feel uncomfortable. I had to let people in and be a part of my story.


So this is where I am:
1. Volunteer EMT with a fire department.
2. Went through a whole new EMT class. It was hard. I survived it...top of the class.
3. I've opened up to the idea of training to become a firefighter.
4. I've allowed myself to make friends, be social...or at least a bit more social.
5. I have applied to ambulance companies and other EMT openings despite the fear and self doubt that has held me back for so long.


I haven't given up, even if alot of days are a fight to stay afloat. For right now, I plan to continue kicking ass as an EMT...or, you know, fumbling along feeling awesome because I get to ride in a fire engine.




I guess the moral of the story is that if you're bipolar, depressed, anxious, self harming, just plain old scared to move forward....that is ok. Let those things be part of you, let them exist, but don't let them take over and run your life. Your mental illness or addictions or fears, they don't define you, you can push through, be strong, and be something great.

Thinking 23

Was just my birthday about a month and a half back. I am twenty three now, I am feeling very old. This year is gonna be a good one, a major change, a total turn around....I want it to be better then the last few.

I have been working hard getting my stuff together and working towards my dream. For those of you who don't know what that is, I want to be an EMT. I want to save people, make a difference, have a new adventure every day. I passed my EMT course last year and got nationally certified, but I was too scared and didn't know if I could handle it, I don't like screwing up and these are lives on the line here.

In any case, I am doing, I am a volunteer EMT down in Olympia and I'm excited to be starting somewhere. Baby steps. Some day I will be at an ambulance company and working as a career. For now I am volunteering as an EMT and working full time at avisbudget and volunteering every Saturday working in the Mary bride emergency department and every now and again watching evan...yeah I am busy, I like it that way.

I'm not going to lie, though, I'm not perfect. Twenty three is by no means going to be a breeze, I am still a crazy, I still do struggle, I go up and I go down and I feel the urge and I fight. I will always fight, I want to be strong. I want to be a strong, healthy EMT that people look up to.

All in all, things are coming along just fine for now. I'm too stubborn to give up on my dream and to just give in to my fears and urges. I am strong. I'm an EMT.

I Thought I Had Quit

**this post is a tad contradictory to the last, but hey, lifes a roller coaster, things never stay the same long**

We all know that old saying, 'two steps forward, one step back' or even (for those of you who fall under the category of cynical) 'one step forward, two steps back'.

 For me, its one and a half years forward, one cut back.

Now, I could let the fact that I slipped up ruin me and throw me back into a tornado of self destruction (for dramatic affect of course), but I don't regret it at all.

I feel GOOD.

I realized, somewhere along the way, that it isn't all about how long you go without being a harm to yourself, but how much effort you put in to bettering yourself. As long as you're trying, I mean really trying, you're making good progress.

So yeah, one and a half years sounded good and people were proud cause it had been so long, but it didn't feel right. I didn't feel good about how long id gone, I wanted to turn back.

So I gave in, I got overwhelmed, I let my weakness overcome me, and I cut.

I went in to it knowing it was my last, knowing that I got one chance and then im done, knowing there was always a small possibility that id fall back into the same pattern as I always did.

But I didn't.

This was different because I knew, I knew that I just needed to have closure, to know it was over, but not just decide one day Willy nilly after id cut like I did before.

This was definite. Since this happened a couple months back, I have felt positive about my progress. Since then I've hardly had any urges. It crosses my mind every so often, but its harmless, just a memory. I went in knowing it was my last and I feel confident that it really was my last.

 I'm feeling....strong.

One year towards the rest of my life

My one goal: make it a year. Yeah right, you're crazy, that'd never happen, impossible I said, crazy talk. But why not try?! I've got nothing to lose and, surprisingly, a lot to gain (which took me awhile to see).

When you're waiting for something to come or something to happen it seems like it takes decades. You just keep waiting for the end result, but it is just right out of your reach, it tortures you, it gawks at you. I felt like a year was an eternity, was I ready to give up my blade for an eternity? I wasn't confident in myself, I doubted my own strength (I still don't).....i was scared.

So, i  guess what it all boils down to is that my goal of making it one year really was me making it an eternity. What was I to do? Go a year and then PHEWW I made it, lets start again...i dont think that'd work. My goal was me really saying that I'm dedicated to my healing, I was ready to fight no matter what.

As of February 10,2014 I have successfully made it one year without turning to a blade, without taking the easy route. Its hard at times, really hard, but I am still going strong and don't plan on giving up.

My life has been changing a ton, not just completing my biggest goal, but I am in a program to become an EMT and if I pass the test at the end of the month I could be certified (crazy!!),and I've gotten a new therapist. Her name, just like the last one, is Beth so I just call her "new Beth". I think I like her, I just don't like talking about me still, and finally I moved out of my parents house.

I feel like things may be looking up and I am doing what I can to stay cut free and move forward in my life. I want to be able to look back and be proud of how far I've come.

Evading Death, Blowing Minds

I awoke the other day in a not so good place, i was anxious and depressed and just wanted to be dead. Well, it apparently just wasn't my turn to go yet because I should have died in a series of terrifying events and when all was said and done I got away with just a body of bumps and bruises.

There are several things that I have taken from this experience:\
1. God has a sense of humor. I am certain that he said, "serves you right for even thinking about being dead when it isn't your turn"
2. Angels are strong and definitely protected me.
3. I am surprisingly calm in life or death situations.

OK, so for those of you who don't know what happened, I was in a car accident. I wasn't just in a fender-bender or even a t-bone, I was in a serious, airborne rollover.

For work, one of the things I do is pick up cars from the dealers and bring them back to our lot, Tuesday was just like any other day, drove down to Infiniti in Fife and picked up a G37 I had brought down the day before for a blinking tire pressure light. I was on my way back and for some reason decided to go a little different of a route than I usually take, never will I do that again.

I was following a large O'Reilly semi and as we got off I-5 to 518 he got over so I continued straight ahead and that's when the truck started heading back at me, I had no other option but to try and speed up a bit and maybe get by...I didn't. Almost, but the semi ended up clipping my back passenger side. The only thing I thought was, "I am in so much trouble", then I realized I had no control and fishtailed toward the side barrier.

Between the East and West bound traffic is an embankment, in the end, that was my resting place. I flipped over the barrier, just scraping it on the way, and then rolled/bounced three times until I was sideways at the bottom of the hill. No airbags went off and no glass broke, it was kind of a miracle.

Anyone who saw it thought I was dead, but I felt completely fine, just a bit shaken up, mostly in shock. A man ran down and kept telling my I should be dead and I had him help me hold the door open so I could climb out. I unbuckled and turned off the engine and then we started the pokey climb back to the road through sticker bushes.

My first thought, obviously, was to call my boss. (that obviously was sarcasm). Then I called the police and then my dad who doesn't work too far from where it all happened. The state patrol came, the ambulance came, I sent them away, and I slowly came down from my adrenaline high in the front seat of my dads van.

As it stands, I am back at work, light duty, and have some major bruises from the seat belt (thank GOD for those) and the steering wheel and a sore shoulder and head where I hit the window a couple of times. I am doing pretty well and I am the talk of the town at work.

I don't expect to forget that it happened or feel completely fine, I mean it was a traumatic experience, but I do wish I could stop thinking about it. It has been three days and still its all I can think about. I refuse to be scared to drive, but that doesn't mean I am not anxious when I get in a car. I am anxious, very anxious, but I don't think I have ever been so glad to be alive. God definitely was looking out that day and made sure to send some angels my way.

The Car

Front Drivers side

The Roof

 The back drivers side

Passenger side

Back Passenger Tire

This is where the semi hit me

The bumper inside the car

Front drivers side again

The inside pretty much looked like nothing ever happened

Labyrinth Thoughts

The tears run down my cheeks like acid. It burns, but maybe it's the anger inside that's boiling; it's kind of hard to tell, and I guess it doesn't really matter because it hurts nonetheless.

There is so much in my head right now and I can't sort my thoughts, even for myself. I'm confused and lost and detached from the world, the labyrinth of my mind my prison.

Two things happened this week in my world of craziness; I hit five weeks and it's been two years. Both of these things are hard for me to process. At the same time I can't pretend they aren't there, it's all part of my story, and to heal from any pain I hold within I know that I need to face it all; I can't pick and choose. 

Let me back up and explain- five months is the amount of time that I have made it without turning to that old straight edge demon. Five... Five is still nothing in the scheme of things, I want more, I want forever to come, I want an actual reason to feel proud of where I am now. I'm not fair. I know that I am not fair; I have made it through more than most anyone could imagine, for that mighty enemy that I once chose to call friend is with me everyday. I have to say that today I will make it, today I will survive, nothing can get in my way. But wait, how can it be? That smooth silver blade, fresh, sharp...it calls to me, it reminds me that no matter what, it is the only one who can evade the pain. Every time I pull off its little cardboard vest I pause to remind myself that I am someone's inspiration to fight, and if I give in that's just saying that's ok. I guess there it is, the proof that I have strength, that I am healing, forever too far to imagine....but if I can go each day without falling into the temptation of my own monster, I am heading in the right direction.

Two years. Well, I want to pretend the day doesn't exist, but I can't, it's an extremely important day in my life. Not only because that day my parents could've been visiting my grave, but because that day, in a way, was the beginning of it all. I should be dead, I was so close to my own demise that the mere thought of it throws all of me back into that day. FLASH car FLASH goodbye texts FLASH drive FLASH turn myself in, a prisoner to everyone love FLASH long ride to the Psychiatric Hospital FLASH the beginning, the place where I couldn't get any lower. But I could fight to get higher, and that's exactly what I did. You see, those flashes could have easily ended after goodbye texts, no more memory would flash through my mind because no more life would be inside me. This is how far I have come, good or bad, I have made it two very rough years, I have made it through (what feels like) a million different meds, but after two years things are starting to feel like maybe I can be better. Maybe despair and fear and anger aren't all there is for me. I am a survivor, a fighter, a normal human being. My story is nowhere near the end, by my own hand at least. So every single day, no matter how low I feel, I can return to that day and know it's been worse. I made it then and I can make it now.

This isn't where I saw my life, not at all actually. Really, you learn to roll with the punches no matter how badly they hurt. Everyone has the strength to overcome.... in the end, it's all about having the patience to let things get better.

To Marvel Again

Amongst pain and sorrow; happiness, beauty, and positivity just don't exist.

To be sucked into the darkness of self-loathing and self pity...its an impossible thing to escape. You scratch the walls, try to grab a hold of something, to give you hope for survival, but you just cant get a grip, everything slips away.

You see nothing but darkness, no light, no hope, no anything. All that being said, you don't have time to marvel.

Marveling was my thing.

The small things, the ones people passed up and didn't notice; I saw those things and I used to love to marvel at them.

I hadn't marveled in months and months and I didn't even realize it until I marveled the other day. One thing after the other, marveling came back to me.

• These beautiful falcons that have a nest at work. I watch them all day, the way they move is simply beautiful.

•    I walk outside my door and staring straight at me is the most beautiful double rainbow. We could see it clear from one end to the other and my whole family just stopped to stare. Only God can create something that gorgeous. Oddly, a simple rainbow gives me a small sense of hope.

•           Hippo! Oh man, this little lady.... I marvel at her silliness and her curiosity and her shear cuteness always. I spend a lot of time watching her tootle about.

•      The sun. The water. But mostly, the way that the sun hits the water. 

OK, so they're dumb things, but at least I am marveling again. It makes me feel better when I can at least see a tiny bit of light.

So, again, I urge you all to take a moment to marvel at something. There is so much to see, open your eyes.

Four Months of Thoughts

Tomorrow marks the fourth month that I haven't hurt myself.

As I thought about that on my hot drive home the other day, I came to the realization that this is the farthest I have gone without cutting since the nine months in 2010. Its kind of sad when i think of it that way, four months is hardly anything at all and yet its the longest I have gone, I cant help but feel a tad pathetic.

I would like to say that its getting easier to fight urges and get through each day, however, I cant really say that easy is the word I would use.

I have gotten smarter, more cautious.

I have rules and rituals and plans when it comes to razors and what I let myself be around.

Anyways, I am trying to keep positive about making it this far, but there's a weird feeling that I feel about it, something like I made it this far (to a goal) so now I can cut. Its confusing, I guess.

I'm keeping going, one day at a time.

Thought This May Help?

Thus far, my blog has been a place to share my journey and any knowledge I may have, however, this post is specifically for those of you who live with/love someone who self harms in any way.

I have been on both sides, I have been the "cutter" and I have been around people who were cutting themselves, so I understand both points of view. As I went back to work this week, I found myself having to really think about what helps me when I feel urged and overwhelmed. I realized that a lot of the fight is an ability to be vulnerable and lean on others, therefore I think it only fair to give you other people some advice as to how to deal.

First of all, be proud. If your loved one is fighting self harm it is sometimes only you being on their side that is helping them fight and you don't even know it. When they make it some time without cutting let them know how proud you are of their progress (of course if you are neutral, then don't lie, it isn't really a HUGE deal). When you are spending so much energy trying to fight something like addiction, it is always nice to hear that even one person is proud that you've gotten as far as you have.

Second, be patient. If a "cutter" is to the point where they want to stop hurting themselves, be patient. It is not easy to stop and its a huge roller coaster that is scary and overwhelming and I realize that that can be frustrating when you just want someone to be better, but it doesn't work that way, you have to keep patient. Its a very slow process to stop self harming, and it will stop (hopefully) eventually, but you have to give it time, don't push.

Third, be willing to deal with blades no questions asked. This may sound silly, but I have found, in my recovery, that giving the blades to other people to get rid of for me has made it easier. I could make the decision to stop the cutting and want to get rid of the blades, but it would be so hard for me to let go and throw it out for good so I gave it to the few people I trusted and let them just get rid of them so I wouldn't have to. This may not work with everyone, but just be prepared nonetheless.

Fourth, if you say you'll be there, BE THERE. This one is very important. There were many times that I may have been able to be stopped from slicing myself if I could only talk to someone I cared about. Sometimes you just need someone there who you can trust is willing to talk you down.

Fifth, Don't go rogue. Don't go rogue means don't try and go all solo and making your own rules. Being that self harm has a lot to do with control, going rogue (or finding someones blades and taking them without talking to the person first) is a no no. Don't just take blades you find, it makes us just more frantic to find something else, no matter what it is, anything that we can use to cut and get relief. It is better for you to just talk to them about it.

Sixth, make lists and plans. Obviously another one that is not for everyone, but for me it worked. I am a list maker so I was always prepared with a mental list of things to do if I felt like I needed to cut and precautions for when I was near blades. Its hard to think of things to stop yourself when you aren't super sure that stopping is what you want, so just help your loved ones out.

Seventh, ask. Asking someone over and over what is wrong or if they are hurting themselves is really annoying, however, sometimes it just takes asking one hundred times before they cave and tell you whats going on. Just don't be afraid to ask even if you don't get an answer.

So there you go, a few things to help you deal with loved ones who self harm. I hope some of these (actually even just one would be nice) help you out. And those of you who are self harming and have stopped by to read this, be patient with your friends and family, they're clueless and usually just as scared as you are, don't be too afraid to let someone into your twisted world.

Some Kind of Poetic Thoughts

Bum      bum      bum      bum

Calm

Bumbum     Bumbum     Bumbumm

Fear setting in

That old melancholy feeling

Absorbing into my bones

Dudun      Dudun      Dudun

At the end

The rope cut

No other choice

Thoughts circling

Twisting, twirling around my head

Taken deeper and deeper into the darkness

THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD

Now. Nows the time

No other choice

Can you hear it?

Can you feel it?

Its shouting

Holding out its hand

The light in a world of pitch black

My saving grace

Budun    Budun    Budun

Sliced through the tangled thoughts

Sliced through the darkness

Light.

Seen through a sliver made in the night

Bum      bum      bum     bum

The world is clearing

Calm

The worlds moving quick

A devil for one

The rest naïve

The darkness to consume me

Bum     bum

Just Another Thought

As my life goes, if it isnt one thing its the other.

If I am not going crazy and hurting myself I am sick and yarfing.

There really should be an in-between, but in my world... there really isnt.



As stated in the last post, I feel like things may be looking up a bit, not a week after that post I started to get sick. Its kind of a well known fact in my house that I am ALWAYS sick. Life is rough.



Now.
The problem is that being sick makes you miserable and sad and unhappy and gives you way too much time to think. Laying there in bed, feeling like death, what better do you have to do? Yeah, not really anything, just think and barf.

A couple times in the last few days I have been urged to hurt myself. Obviously, I was in no condition to get up, sneak away, and cut myself....for no actual reason other than my body and mind told me that I needed to.

Puking=difficulty taking meds.
Difficulty taking meds= anxiety.

But alas, I am getting better for now.



As I laid on our sunken, uncomfortable, brown couch I caught myself thinking about cutting. It's a pretty common theme in my thinks, so nothing abnormal.

My heart breaks for everyone out there who is hurting themselves. Most days I just ache to be more, I want to fix the world, I want to make some difference, I want to stop people from suffering.

Obviously, I cant. But, nonetheless, my heart breaks. Pain that is enough to get you to cause physical pain upon yourself.... that's some major pain and I wish it upon NO ONE.

I refuse to live my life without making a difference.

Twenty One

Just turned twenty one the other day, that would matter except I HATE drinking and woo hoo one more year of life....(eye roll)

...Plus alcohol and anti depressants and such....bad, so they say.

Anyways, I was down, real down, heading into that same ol' darkness. I didn't want it to get that far and I refused to leave my psychiatrists office until he did something about the paralyzing anxiety that I felt every day, that I fought every day.

So I got yet another pill (not quite my favorite)

The good news: I feel like it may be working.

Hope...no. The makings of maybe some hope....yeah, sure. In any case my anxiety has gone down considerable, although I forget that its a twice daily pill. Two times a day is quite a commitment. ha!

Nonetheless, things seem to be going alright, I can make it through most days no problem, but every so often have a complete total "bipolar days"...or several.

I'm not going to just say that I am full of hope and happy flowers and butterflies and all other sweet, wonderful things... I'm just saying that lately things have been a bit easier handle.

I have said it before, but I am hoping this time I'm one month into forever stopping.

Twenty one is a perfect time to try and start new, healthier, but I am not calling it hope yet.

Day 30

I apologize that it has taken me so long for this last one, but I am getting to it now and really that's all that counts.

30. Post your favorite picture of yourself and write a positive message to look back on.

I don't have a favorite photo or a positive anything, but I have a favorite human and any photo that he is in with me is a good one. He is a light in my darkness.

Not so Therapeutic

I've been here and I've been there. I've been making it one day at a time. Slow and cautious. Anyways, that isn't what this post is dedicated to, this post is dedicated to therapists.

I image that at least half, if not more, of the people who read this are seeing a therapist or have in the past. I guess it really isn't a big deal, seeing a therapist, people go for so many different reasons that it just seems like no big deal, the usual, the norm. Rough.

So lets start at the beginning of the story. It started about two years back when I got home from college. I stated seeing Beth on a weekly basis, she worked, wasn't good, wasn't bad, but tolerated my bad attitude and resistance to share.

Since that first appointment I have had an appointment with her practically every single week. Still not so keen on the whole "lets share our feelings", "lets figure out whats going on in your head" stuff. But really, that's  just me, I don't talk about me as much as possible.

Anyways, I'm off track, just slightly, but still off track. What I am getting at is that when you are with someone that long you build a relationship, you start to know things about each other that you don't have to share over and over because they already know, they already know your story.

So what do you do when that therapist that knows you so well is no longer your therapist?! People who don't have a therapist don't really understand, however, I promise you that it sucks.

My therapists insurance changed and she no longer takes mine, I am stuck getting a new one.

I'm going to have to share my story all over again and let a whole new person try to pry my head open and find an emotion. That is irritating.

Its so much bigger a deal then you could ever know.

Dreams and Thoughts

(On a side note, I will come back to day 30, It requires a photo and I am unable to load any for some reason right now.)

Its always there, it never goes away.

Not night, not day.

As corny as that sounds.

I guess I dedicate this post to my dreams. The crappy ones, the ones that come and haunt me when I want to think about anything besides cutting.

I was having a difficult time, urges have been pretty gnarly lately, but as if that weren't bad enough, sleep is killing me.

Sleep is my escape, the little that I do get, and I look forward to that moment when I close my eyes and drift away... it hasn't been that way though. When I close my eyes to sleep my dreams are soaked with blood and sting like a blade, what I see is worse than I do to myself on the normal. My escape becoming my prison is scary. It hurts.

My mind, my body, it has all been exhausted. I cant seem to rest, I fear whats on the other side.

There's nowhere to go.

Recovered Thoughts

So, I have been swishing this thought around in my head for the last couple days. It's a simple question; what is recovery?

It seems easy to say you make it through, you make it, plain and simple.

Dictionary.com defines recovery as restoration or return to health from sickness.

Alcoholism.about.com says a voluntarily maintained lifestyle characterized by sobriety, personal health, and citizenship.

And as I read about what people classify as recovery I read this article; http://articles.latimes.com/2011/dec/22/news/la-heb-recovery-20111222  which shows what researchers have developed as a formula to classify recovery.

I read many other articles and studies to try to get to the bottom of this word everyone uses, and I really found that no one really knows.

People make up their definitions for the word and an equation isn't really a way to scale recovery, I don't think.

So, here's where I stand....clueless. what am I striving towards? I don't necessarily think I'll ever recover from self harm. It will always be there, it doesn't go away. Also, I don't understand recovering.

People who are recovering are obviously thriving to be recovered, but do they know when they get there? How do you know if you're recovered, just one day it hits you and BAM you're healed, you're recovered...

Some would say that I'm in recovery, but I don't know if I agree with that. I don't know where I'm heading to qualify as recovered. I know that recovery is bullshit when I sat there and gave in to the blade yesterday, so am I no longer in recovery even?

It's all just a blur and I don't know what addicts are working towards, the addiction never goes away, it just becomes easier for you to fight, but you could always give in and fall right back down.

So how do you recover?

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Day 29

Do you follow any self harm blogs?

I'm not really a blog follower, self harm or otherwise, so no. Unless you count mine, yeah I do, but I don't think that's what the people asking mean.

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Day 28

What short term goals do you have?

My goal is to figure shit out. I want to become an EMT so my goal is to take the courses necessary and start feeling like I have some kind of purpose. As for cutting, I'd like to quit, or make it a month I guess is the short term.

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Day 27

Discuss any and all progress you have made.

I have been trying not to focus on progress because I feel like I give myself too much expectation. Let me think, I have made it... Two months and five days. But who cares, really.

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