400

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400 days out of the hospital for a psychiatric-related admission.

i don’t miss it at all, being incarcerated. i know sometimes it can give you some some rest and respite from the crazy and chaotic world. and sometimes that is ordered by the doctor because you are so fucking stressed up by work and by family. but the truth is, it’s really much easier going in than coming out.

i’ve had difficult days yes, but since my last discharge last year, i never really looked back. my crises and the likes all pointed that i should have a visit or a good long stay, but i never gave in. i’d always say “no no no, i’m not going back in there“. but my stance, much to the dismay of my doctor, is that i won’t go in even at the brink of death.

it’s difficult to tell yourself and say:

“hey Steph, you have to let others learn how to trust you. you can’t blame your family for not being able to trust you. you’ve done too many things behind their backs. you have to learn to nurture and protect yourself, by yourself. there is no one to take away the sharps when the sharps beckon at you. no one to stop you from buying them when you are out alone. there is no one to stop you from banging your arm against furniture, if the pact made is that no breaks in the skin can be made. there is no one to stop from buying too many pills, taking too many pills, when it’s all too painful. and i pray not, but if you ever did any of these, i hope you have the courage to tell someone before it’s too late. you have to learn self-control. no one can do it for you. this is self-love, for now.” 

and that was my life for a long time, not even 400 days ago. before that, in between admissions, it was like that too, but they all ended terribly.

somehow i bloomed. maybe not enough in the eyes of others. but enough for me. i make mistakes and i slip sometimes (oops). i wouldn’t say i can be entirely remorseful, but i do regret my actions and tell myself “hey, don’t you dare again, ok!

everyday is a stepping stone, a learning lecture, a continuous growth. i call this recovery. it maybe oh well, fucking bumpy, but well…

rain or shine, it’s just a state of mind.

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