Honesty

How do I even begin this post... Here it goes. I have been self-harming since I was 11 years old. Thats 15 years to be exact. I got the tattoo on my wrist after exactly 365 days of not self harming and guess what, three weeks later I was back to my old ways. I have learned that even though I relapsed I still made it 365 days without cutting. Cutting has been my only coping skill for as long as I can remember. Today a friend of mine gave me a few questions to ask myself before I even think about doing anything selfishly.

Question 1: When my brother and sisters speak about me in later years, what will they say?
Question 2: Would my mom survive? I am her child and losing a child will be devastating.
Question 3: Would this make my brother and sisters find it acceptable to do the same?
Question 4: Would my death cause a chain reaction that I had no intention of starting?

I am in therapy and I have a contract with my therapist and we have a safety plan in place. So please do not worry. I am trying to take care of myself. It is just difficult when I am taking care of other people too. I find it so easy to let my problems sit in the back of my mind and just forget about them while helping other people. I have also learned that having the degree that I have makes it very easy to help others and guess what most of the time I can, but that does not translate to helping myself. I am learning every day. If you find it in your heart to pray for me, please do.

I plan on getting a semicolon tattoo within the next two months because guess what, I survived my attempts. All six of them. By some miraculous event I am still here. I did it. A semicolon represents a sentence that the author could have ended, but chose not to. I feel that is how I could represent my drive to keep going!

Happy Birthday Mommy!!

Mommy, Happy Birthday to the woman that always brought out the best in me or at least saw the best in me regardless of what I did or didn't do. You have poured your life and soul into making me the person that I am today, and you did it alone. I am so lucky that God chose me to be your first born. Thank you for inspiring me, guiding me, and praying for me. You have loved me when I was seemingly unloveable. You have given me strength that sometimes I cannot see, but I can always feel. Thank you for laughing with me, and crying with me, and teaching me that my character means more than what other people think of me. You have gone through so much and you still find a way to make me smile in the midst of your battle. You are the strongest person I know and I love you.

Worry

I'd like to say that things are so much better than this time last year but to be honest things aren't better... they are different. Instead of worrying about what class I should register in or who I'm going to the movies with tonight I am exchanging those worries for new ones like "will my little Tara and Jordan think that my mom and I have abandoned them" or "when is my mom going to need to have a heart/lung transplant" or "can I make it through this day with maybe just one or two more panic attacks". Right now I am living my life second by second because that is all I can manage. I feel like my life is one step forward three steps back. I can't seem to catch up and I feel like I am drowning. Also, Mikhail is a saint.