Today I Celebrate Myself.

by guardyan_angel Tue Oct 05, 2010 6:41 am

Today is two years free of cutting for me.

At midnight today, I looked at the clock, felt a thrill of rejoicing, and then went back to working on fixing my iTunes.

A little under three years ago I would have never believed there'd be a time when I was celebrating more than a few days of not cutting myself.

Two years ago today, I was cursing myself for slipping up after almost making a year.

One year ago I was sobbing my heart out at the midnight hour, overjoyed that I had actually made it to the one-year anniversary.

And now today I sit here, typing this, content but not doing cartwheels everywhere. Self-injury and for the most part self-hatred has faded away into a more distant past, and, while some days things are more difficult than others, I begun to think that there is such a thing as
recovery. That I can someday stand before someone and say that I've been free of my self-injurious self for more than just a couple years.

Already I've been free from SI for double the amount of time that I suffered through it, at least with the cutting aspect. I can now shave in the bathroom with a slight thought at what I used to do with a razor, but no longer the overwhelming urge to use it. I can find myself more open to discussing not only the fact that I went through a period of SI, but also I'm beginning to understand the reasons why I did. The urges are few and far between, and when they do happen it's easier to resist- there's so much more I can do now to ignore the overpowering wish to harm.

The other day, while sorting out my bookshelf, I came across a notebook full of poetry that I've written. Looking back on my entries, not only in there, but also in my diary, of that dark time when I was in such a struggle, I can no longer imagine what it was like to be in that mindset 24/7. The idea is almost foreign to me.

I don't need to keep track of the days, anymore. I SIed, once upon a time. That is my story, that is all I need to know. Oh, I may keep track of the years, maybe even the months. But the days I will no longer count. There is no need to reflect on my SI in my past every day of my life. That is why it's a part of my past, not my future.

I'm one of the lucky ones, I suppose. For me I will take my struggle and learn from it, looking back but hopefully never stepping back into that time. I no longer believe that I suffer from dysthymia, the chronic depression that causes a person to feel a little lower on most days before flinging them into severe depression. Instead I believe that at that time I had talked myself into that mindset, out of a need of some sort for- for what? Attention? Self-discovery? I'll never truly know, I suppose. Or, at least, if I do suffer from dysthymia, there is hope for me to break out of that cycle when (if) it next strikes.

I look back to myself three years ago, to when I was in that dark place, struggling with myself and my surroundings. I look back to myself two years ago, when I first and for the only time slipped up after nearly a year free. I look back to myself one year ago, weeping with joy at the accomplishment of a year free. I look to myself now, proud and free and, if not happy, then at least content. I am not the me of three, two, even one year ago. I am myself- a girl free of self-injury/cutting for two years, a daughter, an older sister, a best friend, a wall-climber, a cheerleader, a college prospect. A young woman, ready to take on the future, unafraid.

I look, and today I celebrate myself.