I want to talk about something that I don’t know if I’ve ever brought up before on this blog. Something that I’ve been dealing with since the age of 13, something that seems to fade in and out of my life but in reality is always with me, is a part of me, like a shadow. It’s taken me 6 years- and the path continues to swerve and weave- to turn this shadow into a strength rather than a haunting weakness.
Today, september 2nd, marks the 1-year anniversary since the last time I have inflicted self-harm. I know I must seem like a hypocrite. I have advocated self-love for a long time and it’s a concept I still truly believe in, but there are still moments when I have to remind myself that I deserve to take the advice that I give to others.
The past year has not been all rainbows and roses. I am not going to lie and say that there were no moments when self-harm did not cross my mind. There are still moments when the urge lingers and others when it hits me full force. I kept the date on my phone like a recovering alcoholic keeps the date of their last drink. Not to taunt me, but to remind me of my strength and everyday that goes by where that date becomes further and further away, it becomes less daunting, easier to face. I am reminded of my strength with each passing hour.
This journey of recovery can be applied to any disease, any obstacle. I have said it once but I’ll say it again: healing is not linear. Not every passing day will be easier than the last but when the bad days seem to surpass the good, remember that a good day will come again. Just like there is no doubt that there will be bad days, horrible days, there is also no doubt that there will be great days, the most amazing days.
One year. 365 days. 8760 hours. 525600 minutes. It’s incredible how much can change. One year ago today I was probably in my dorm room, with my roommates doing who knows what. I had not yet experienced so much. There was so much knowledge from classes that I had yet to obtain, so much joy and laughter and friendships but also so much pain and struggle. And here I am now, sitting in a room with my host parents downstairs nearly 5,000 miles away from everything that I had grown so comfortable with. I wonder where I will be one year from now.