Yesterday was my birthday. I woke up and was almost in tears because I finally made it to 20. Seeing all of the texts and facebook posts reminded me that I am not as invisible as I thought I was. My cousins came over and we got all of the Christmas decorations out so we can do it all soon. We had leftover enchiladas which is one of my favorite meals, so I was perfectly fine eating it for another day. The day was great, and I was still so happy about the night before when my entire family came over. For a while I did something I rarely do, forget everything that happened. It was a good day.

Yesterday was my birthday. My cousins came over and we were getting all of the Christmas decorations out, but the entire time my parents were fighting. We had enchiladas for brunch, which tasted good, but my mom commented on how much I ate and suddenly it didn’t taste good anymore. I only thought about grandma once, acknowledged that this was the day I lost her three years ago, but this is still MY birthday. I was still exhausted from the day before when my entire family came over. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but it takes so much energy to be social and not become quiet that by the end of the night I am beyond exhausted and sometimes it takes more than one night to recover, sometimes its a few days instead. I finally went to bed around 11pm, but didn’t sleep. Instead I broke down, and all of the feelings that I keep hiding and refusing to express finally came. I sat in my bed bawling, having a anxiety attack, and wanting to self harm more than words can express. I never thought I would live to see my 20th birthday, I’m not sure I wanted to live to see my 20th birthday. I was scared, genuinely scared of losing control and giving in to all of the emotions I was feeling. Scared to the point I went on a suicide/self harm chat line hoping for any relief from what I was feeling. It was a rough day.

I didn’t give in to what I was feeling, which I am very proud of. I did the same thing I did last time when the urge to self harm got so bad, I got a orange marker and wrote on myself all of the positive things I wish I was thinking instead of what I actually was thinking. At some point I was so focused on writing that I don’t even realize the urge to self harm is gone. I spend about a hour just writing on my leg everything that would help calm me, and it worked. I am very glad to say I still have NOT self harmed again. I would love to say that I got my life together and haven’t done anything stupid but everyone that is reading this knows that is BS (excuse my language). While I didn’t self harm, I also didn’t eat. I went 30 hours without eating anything, and not drinking enough because I woke up this morning and had to lay down on my bed every five minutes so that I wouldn’t faint. You would think at that point I would have just ate something but instead I waited another seven hours before I ate anything, and I don’t think you can even call the one bosco stick as a meal. The second I stop self harming I stop eating and and the second I start eating normal I self harm. It’s like a never ending cycle that I continue to be stuck in. I do know one thing, while a lot of things can really hurt me, I am also strong. If I can go a month without self harming then I can figure out how to eat normal, or at least stay consistent and not get worse.


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