It’s been two years since I last self harmed (with blades), and recently I came across my stash of blades in a drawer as I was cleaning it out. I had honestly forgotten that I still had them and broke down just seeing them. I was in such a dark place for so long, and I’m definitely not completely better, but I know how far I’ve come. No one knows what I went through, and no one cared for any of the seven years I fought with severe depression. I did everything alone, and I’m still alone, but I’m strong and I know things do get better. I wish I had someone to talk to about everything, but I think most of it would scare off the friends I have.

I guess I just wanted to tell someone that I finally tossed my blades. I had them since I was 12, now I’m nearly 21. Its been really hard, but I finally think I’m happy. I think throwing them out was a big step - as I used to keep them just in case, which sounds so messed up now. I’m still struggling with my mental health, but I think I’m finally on my way up - out of the deep dark place that I spent my teen years.

Don’t give up.

I promise things get better.

Scars are just a reminder of all the battles you won. And even though I definitely hide mine, and wish I could make them go away, I can’t. They’re apart of me, and so I wear my past. One day I hope I can wear short sleeves and bathing suits without feeling anxious, but for now I’ll just take this step as one in the right direction. This is progress, and I should be proud of myself. Part of me just wishes I had someone to share this with.