I haven’t been admitted at all in the hospital for ONE YEAR. My psychiatrist thinks it’s a miracle, since I had periods where I couldn’t even stay out in the wild for 2-3 days. It was like out, then hello here am I again because I’m going to say goodbye.
It’s a smashing record. But along the way, I had already “broken” my record, because the longest I’ve stayed out since I fell into depression, I believe would be 2 or 3 months.
I remember 364 days ago, I was in the e-room getting stitched up. My thigh was gaping. I thought little of it. But the doctor said it was “very serious” as it was 6 cm deep and insisted on incarcerating me. My psychiatrist then saw me 365 days ago and knowing me fully well that I was really just hurting myself, discharged me. And that was the end of it. Just like that.
So yeah, 1 year has passed. I’m still trying my hand at recovery. Today would be 218 days cut-free. I didn’t press the reset button after the recent “incident”, but don’t get me wrong. I’m not delusional.
I didn’t want one moment of grave error to spoil the the 200 over good days I had. I reflected on the incident and eventually faced up to it by telling my psychiatrist. So I kept counting.
It’s a milestone, if you’d ask me. Just last year, I spent 6 months inside. I just could not live in the wild. But now, I’m working and earning my keep, taking less meds, not self-harming, although I admit I’m still at my eating disordered ways. It’s too deeply entrenched.
I bought a bunch of white gerberas, and then also a white Pandora daisy ring. It’s a pat on my back, and a celebration for the milestone. It’s also a reminder to BLOOM.
bloom whereever i am planted, and that would be prudent.
so keep blooming, Steph!!!