I used to think that the tears would never stop, the urges would never cease, and the thoughts of suicide would only grow stronger. I am here, two years suicide-thought free to tell each and everyone of you, this too shall pass. It takes time, so much time. I was lucky to be able to say “I need help” and I got it.
I never looked in the mirror and thought of something that I liked about myself. Never. I began thinking that this was how I would always feel. Never pretty, or skinny, or good enough. I was feeling this way and just assumed it was because I was a typical teenage girl who wanted to fit in in high school.
Soon after, I tried to kill myself. And after I failed, I looked at my mom and I said, “I don’t think I’m okay”. I got help. I accepted help. I embraced help. And it saved my life.
When I was young, I never stopped smiling. People never believed me when I told them my story. “But you’re always so happy” they said. Well, not always. At that point in my life it seemed as if I never was going to be happy.
We all have our stories, and stories can end or they can continue, but it’s only up to one person how the story develops: you. You can end your story without it being fully written (which a good writer would never do) or you can continue it and only make it better from here on out. It’s up to you.
I want to leave you with this… No matter what you’re feeling at a certain moment, anger, hurt, failure, fear, embarrassment, disturbed, confused, tortured, wounded, or battered, know that someone in this world loves you. No matter what you think of yourself, someone thinks differently. No matter how you look at yourself, someone looks differently.
You’re never ever going to feel better if you can’t look inside your soul and admit to yourself that you need help. Always reach out. Always.
This too shall pass. I love you ALL. xoxoxo
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Hi