the relationship I had when I was 13.

At some point in our lives, we tend to recreate the traumas or patterns we experienced in childhood. Maybe once, maybe more than once… There’s that cliché but it’s true. We play out all the pain and the longing and the desires we’ve had. This happened to me when I was 13.

I was with a boy who not surprisingly mirrored lots of the same emotional difficulties as me. He was an on and off again runaway/kid who got kicked out, who lived in group homes and was involved in gangs. He dabbled in physical self-harm before he met me and I was already a few months into my own path of cutting before I met him. We met at the perfect conjunction where all of this expedited in me. And I must’ve seemed so crazy now looking back because my head also throbbed with notions of romanticism and emotional fantasies.

Continue reading the relationship I had when I was 13.

I haven’t cut myself in 7 years.

I guess the thought of that came to me “randomly” one day while driving in my car.  It was weird realizing that that fact didn’t even cross my mind for so long.  It was as if I was too busy focusing on what other things I needed to improve on, what other things I was lacking, the ideals I was not meeting yet.  I hadn’t stopped to give myself any credit or acknowledgment for the things I did progress in and the actual difference in the quality of life I am living now compared to 7 years ago, when my world was much, much smaller and denser.

I cried out of a mixture of joy, disbelief, and amazement.  Because to go from hating yourself so much and feeling so much internal frustration with the inability to cope that you turn it against your own body and mind was really a battle.  Sitting here and being aware of how I, in contrast now, can physically recoil from even thinking of myself doing that is… something I am very grateful for.

Continue reading I haven’t cut myself in 7 years.