Cliche, but true

Yes, I knooow cliche has an accent, but my computer is being spacky, nobody correct my grammar for it!!!

So, although I generally detest cliches, I’m going to indulge in one for the purpose of putting my somewhat optimistic message across: Every cloud has a silver lining.

I let the darkness of recent times absorb me, I truly did. I let this darkness that kept weighing up on my chest creep up on me, drag me down, release tears down my face, guide my hand towards the razor blades. I cut myself. There’s my humble admission; I slashed my wrists for the first time in months.

But it didn’t help. JB and S didn’t suddenly realise that they fucked me over and come running to my house crying and begging for me to forgive them. My troubles weren’t gone because of the cuts etched into my wrist. To an extent, it woke me up, but not because the pain made me feel alive… because the pain made me feel nothing. Nothing. NOTHING.

I still feel desperately sad and hopeless. Yet, now I am starting to open my eyes to the fact that harming myself isn’t the way to solve this. Sobbing and crying and hating isn’t the way. My true friends are the ones who were on the phone to me as I was holding the pills, who told the people making me feel worthless to fuck off, who saw the cuts beneath my sleeves, and held my hand knowingly saying nothing at all.

They are the people I want in my life.

I’m not trying to say I’m better, or okay even. I’m saying that I am willing to let myself get better. My trust has been destroyed, and I still feel a kind of nauseating anxiety when I see either of the people who hurt me, but I now know that i will heal.

For now, at least; I choose life over death.