My yearly reflection. The older I get the more I reflect on my past. Where I've been, what I've done, who I was inside, who I was to other people. . . and of course all this culminates into where am I going, what am I going to do, who am I going to be to myself, and who I'm going to be to others. Typically, none of this changes with each passing new year, but a girl can dream can't she?
So far this year has been. . . turbulent, as has become my go-to word to describe it. Not necessarily bad I guess, just full of a lot of trials. There's been a lot of confession and self discovery in there too. By this January I'll have been a cutter for a year now, though I've been self harming far longer than that. It's kind hard to picture my skin now without all these scars. This has also been the year I finally admitted to myself that maybe what I'm dealing with is more than just mood swings, and I was battling depression. It's also the year I told people, a small circle of friends, what was wrong with me. My best friend in particular. I didn't want to confess I needed, or I guess still kinda do need, help. I'm not entirely sure what exactly kept me from these confessions for so long. Fear, I guess? I didn't want to be labeled as attention seeking, even to just myself. I wasn't sure what I was feeling was real, or warranted, or okay. Other people, worse off people, could be called depressed. But my life was pretty great in comparison, what did I have to feel bad over? It wasn't until I actively started finding out, and reaching out, that I realized that anyone could deal with depression, from those in the best of situations to those in the worst. Plus it doesn't help that I think depression is hereditary in my family.
But. . .
I finally did it. I said I needed help. And I got it. Not from what I consider "outside sources", ie doctors, councilors, a pastor, etc. Not bold enough to go that far yet. But I reached out to my friends, some I talked to online, which for me was a major move. But it worked out so much better than I had originally feared. I started out telling my best friend, who I actually know irl, and then, some months later, a small group of internet friends whom me and my irl friend talked to regularly. And the reaction I got wasn't anything like how I was used to people treating me. I got concern, and support, and love, and understanding. And even though that may seem like a minuscule, not actually helpful or wise way to get help, it made a world of difference to me. I got a support group, which I guess in a lot of ways is a first step to recovery.
This was the year though, that the reason all this came out, was because I became suicidal. I'd often. . . considered death. And there were times I wanted to escape my life. But not in the way I was. And it finally became a big enough concern that people told me I needed to take action, tell my parents, let someone who knew me in real life know what was happening. And through a series of events, my parents did find out. I still haven't decided whether or not that was for the best, but I know God's in control, and there's a reason for everything. I'm still alive aren't I?
This was the year though, that a lot of really great things happened too, despite all the turbulence. I officially gained a best friend, one of the best friends I've ever had in my whole life, who has been there for me, unwavering, through all of this.
This was the year I had my first ever true dance recital, and have started yet another dance year, and discovered just how much joy, and strength, and ambition, and just. . . how much I've grown to adore dance.
This was the year I delved farther into my writing, was given more experiences, learned more, grew more, loved more, and gave more. This was the year God gave me new insight, and changed my mind and heart.
I'm still alive, and while I'm still fighting, right now, I'm glad to be here.
