Trigger Warning

I was only 15 the first time I purposely hurt myself and thanks to the continued support from my therapists, family, and friends, throughout the past six years I have learned so much about life and recovery. As most people who struggle with mental illnesses, in the beginning, I didn't want to get better. I wouldn't be here today if my family didn't push me to recover, and didn't tell me I was worth that recovery every day. This is a letter to you guys for always making me feel worthy and loving me when I stopped loving myself.

I'll start off with a poem I wrote about three years ago:

"Think about your skin.

Your softest skin,
the smooth porcelain of your forearms,
the soft feel of your bare stomach.

Think of the skin your mother fell in love with when she held your small newborn body for the first time,
think about the countless scrapes and bruises that you encountered throughout childhood,
think about the Neosporin and Band-aids your mother stuck to your skin,
think of the kisses from her that grazed your knees, your elbows, or your fingers.

Think of being a teenager, so full of anger, stuck inside a head full of hate.
Think about locking yourself in the bathroom, slumping against the wall and sliding down, head in your hands because you are numb.

Now stop.
It doesn't need to go any further.
You can get off the bathroom floor,
you can wipe your tears,
you can do it.

There are so many better emotions that self-inflicted pain.

Think of compassion, think of trust,
Think of kissing your pain away but instead of your knees or elbow or finger it is your heart that needs the Band-aid.

It took me a long time to understand how my addiction to self-harm hurt my mother.

That porcelain baby skin my mother kissed straight out of the womb was forever marked with hate.
Never again would my mother be able to feel the soft smooth skin of her baby. She would feel scars, she would visibly see the reminder of the darkest time of my life.

How could I expect my mother to feel when her baby girl, that she loved unconditionally didn't love herself? When the blessing that she brought into this world with love, would rather be dead?

And you're right, my skin won't fully recover and there will always be marks that make my mother cringe, but it is fully in my control whether or not there are more.

I'm done hiding my wrists,
I'm done with stinging thighs and late night cries.
and having my mother look at me like I am her first heartbreak.

I'm done being broken and I'm done hurting myself for the significant reason to cause myself pain.

There are parts of my skin by a razor blade and parts of my mind untouched by self-hate and they will stay that way.

I will find myself again and I will love the girl staring back at me in the mirror, because although she is scarred,

she is strong.

-My New Years Resolution m.n.m."

When I wrote this poem I was actively struggling with self-harm and a lot of times would write myself little reminders and encouraging notes to get me through a tough moment. I can happily say thanks to my own willpower, and the support and love I've received from the people around me, I have been clean of any kind of self-harm for 759 days.

The first person I have to thank is my mom. You have always ALWAYS been there to listen to me. Whenever I call, you pick up, and whenever I need you right then and there you are on your way. I will never in words be able to express my gratitude for the times you've taken me to the ER against my wishes to make sure I was going to be alright, or all the times in the middle of the night you came to pick me up from wherever I was because the world was too overwhelming for me. Thank you for learning about my case, and that it's not like everyone else's. Thank you for taking the time and understanding more than anyone else has.

Also Dad, thank you for visiting me and lightening the mood whenever I was cooped up in the hospital. Thank you for bringing me magazines and little things to make me feel more at home. Thank you for trying to understand the best you could and for passing it off to someone else when you couldn't. Thank you for trying to learn my triggers and not acting on them.

To my siblings, thank you for being gentle with your words. Thank you for trying to understand that I'm not broken or different and that there's nothing wrong with me. Thank you for accepting me for who I am and always defending me to the outsiders. Thank you for bringing me joy and laughter when I don't think it's even possible for me to smile.

Thank you to the rest of my family, for never asking too many questions. Thank you for letting it be my decision and choice what I share and what I don't. Thank you for keeping my business to yourself even though it can be hard when you're worried about someone. Thank you for loving me regardless of my mental illnesses and for being there if I ever need anyone to talk to.

Thank you to my boyfriend. I can really say you brought me out of a depression like I had never faced before. Thank you for being accepting and for learning about why before you wrote me off as crazy. Thank you for holding me at night when my demons are too much to handle and for helping me get through my dark days by reminding me I have your love. Thank you for never giving up on me, even when I seem to be too much, you've always stayed by my side and I have so much gratitude for that. Thank you for being the person I can go to with my problems to talk about them or being the person to distract me from them so I can just forget about them. I love you more than words can say.

The friends I've had through this have come and gone but the couple who have stayed have made a huge difference in my life. Whether its a random text reminding me to smile from my high school friends or a letter in the mail from my college roommate, you guys make this life worth it.

The laughter and good times I've had with you over the past couple of years would never have happened without your support and love. Knowing I will always have you guys is such a relief because I'm pretty sure I have some of the greatest friends on the planet. Thank you for not running when I told you my story, and thank you for accepting that just because I am sick doesn't mean I can't have quality friendships.

Thanks to you guys I have over two years clean and plan to have many more. Being mentally ill is hard enough so I am forever grateful for the friends and family who have stuck by my side through this. I love you guys.

Love, Me