more harm. than good.

Self-harm manifests in multiple different ways.

My eating disorder is a form of self-harm. My anxiety caused me to fall into multiple patterns of self-harm. Nail biting, scratching, skin picking. The worst, by far, was cutting. My wrists are littered with scars still. At my worst, I didn’t see a way out. I couldn’t see myself reaching my 16th birthday. And then my 18th. I didn’t think I’d ever graduate high school. I constantly beat these doubts. I made it to my 19th birthday. I surpassed my expectations of living and reached new heights. I don’t know what this makes me. What does this mean?

I’ve always done more harm than good for my body. I’ve never thought about the repercussions of pushing my body or mind to exhaustion. However, I find myself here again and again. It’s just a new way that my self-harm is manifesting. A scary thought. I have yet to shake my self-harm in its entirety. I am afraid of missing out. A fear so bad that I constantly try to please everyone around me. I am trying to fight but I never want to let someone else down. It’s exhausting. I am so exhausted and I have no way to stop.

I am just 9 days from being 1 year self-harm free (in terms of cutting). Something I never thought would stop, stopped. Yes, I traded one method for another. It’s true. But I am stronger than I ever have been. A year and a half ago, Derek Saunders (Mayday Parade) wrote out a tattoo for me. On Monday, I have a consult for it to happen. I vowed that once I reached a year clean, I would get it. AND I AM. 

Countless relapses. Failed recovery attempts. Hundreds of appointments. Tons of clinical checks. Multiple doctors. Endless days. I want this to end so badly. And it will, eventually.

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