One of the first steps…

So it’s been a little while since I last posted anything on here. I’ve had major writers block and have been lacking motivation- but I’m back now with a post about something that happened to me recently. I’m currently in the long process of gaining trust with my family to be left to have time alone. It’s a struggle for me to be given time on my own without using it to hurt myself. It is a constant battle between wanting to show my family (and self) that I can use time alone safely and wanting to hurt myself so very badly. The other day I was given a few hours home alone and I managed to get through it without doing anything. Most people will see this as a good thing, something to be proud of. But for me I feel horrendously guilty for “wasting an opportunity” to self harm. Later in the day I spoke to my mum about how guilty I was feeling and she said something to me that was really helpful. She told me that everyone who is trying to overcome an addiction says that in 10 years time they don’t want to be still damaging themselves in this way. It’s all very well and good to say that you want things to be different years down the line but one day you are going to have to make a change. Today day I made that little change. I managed to take a step so that in the future I won’t be hurting myself anymore. And for what it’s worth, I’m a little proud of that.

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Two years since admission…

Anniversaries are always a bit of a weird one. It’s been two years since I was admitted to hospital. Two years since I met some of my best friends and grew a second family. Two years ago I was spiralling so quickly into an illness that makes it hard to let anyone in, thinking that I wasn’t sick enough for treatment. Looking back I can now see that I was really very unwell. It was never an easy path to take. Being admitted to a hospital 3 hours away from home so close to christmas, but everyone knew it was the last option we really had. It was that or I would die. I find it so scary that a mental illness is so strong that it can make you think that you aren’t ill at all. Two years on from the beginning of my admission I am still close friends with many of the other patients who I met there. I have an even closer relationship with my family than before and my general outlook on the world has changed. I find it difficult to have gone through an experience that not many other people have been through. But as time goes on I know that difference isn’t bad. The memories from that ward will stay with me forever. The good the bad and the ugly. They have been the product of many a good story! But mainly I’m just happy that I’m still here.