I was starting to wonder why my old ghosts were haunting me so vividly recently but this morning I realised why. March is just around the corner and with that comes the memories of March 2006. That month brought me to my knees as my whole world as I knew it completely changed. When I think back to that month I just remember feeling so fucking lonely. I remember moving house too much to escape the terrors that followed us. I remember sitting on the edge of a rock on a hill near my house with nothing to accompany me except a pen and notebook. I remember being lonely all of the damn time back then. One of the biggest problems I had was my own feelings towards reaching out for help. I felt so bad for reaching out to others that I started to hate myself for doing it. I felt like a heavy burden despite reassurances on the contrary. I self harmed and got drunk because it was easier. Even after I had my list of emergency contacts and after many counselling sessions I still turned to unsafe coping methods. Why? Does that mean I didn’t heal or that I fucked up?
I still believe that my list of contacts and all of the amazing people who dedicated so much of their precious time to me were my saving grace. Without them I could have been so much worse, so much more self destructive. I told myself that I had moved on enough to cope without talking to anyone but in reality I had simply gotten better at hiding my thoughts and ignoring what’s happening right inside of me.
I really want to be different. I want to the type of person that doesn’t spend so much time climbing up a steep and painful hill just to go tumbling back down it. Scars should heal and never be ripped open again, they shouldn’t part to reveal such darkness. I hoped that one day I would just be okay and like it had never happened. That day may never come but I think I’m okay with that. This is just me. “Okay” is my “good”.