One year ago today, I tried to take my own life for the first time. I haven’t spoken much about it publicly as it took a long time to wrap my head around and a lot of working through things before even I understood what went on, but I feel like it needs mentioning now that a whole year has passed.
A year ago, I was forcing myself into a lifestyle I was miserable in. I was lonely and afraid and my BPD episodes were undiagnosed and getting worse and worse. The months leading up to and surrounding my overdose were honestly some of the most terrifying times I have ever experienced, and it didn’t get better right away. Like I always say, healing isn’t linear and I have had some serious blips since then, but with working so hard to find the right support and treatment I can finally say that one year on I am on the right path.
I am taking things one step at a time, building a life that suits me and my needs. And one year on from such a monumentally awful night, I’m waking up with the hindsight that the pain always passes, there’s always another day and another chance to do things differently. There are so many possibilities for the future that we are blind to in the depths of these dark patches. I would never have expected to be waking up in a life I was so happy in, just one year on. It has and will continue to take work, but I just wanted to stop and remind us all that it gets better. Peace and love.