Sometimes, I feel like I’m not doing anything with my life. When i am going day to day, everything seems mundane. But then I remember that I am working towards a college degree, grad school, applying to internships, and that these things take time.
I get angry that I go to the gym and I feel like I don’t see a change and I want to give up. But then I remember back in July, when I could barely hold a plank for 30 seconds, and now I can do plank jacks on the TRX for a minute straight.
But the thing I have come furthest on is my mental health. It’s gotten to the point where I can barely remember what my life was like before I got help. The anger and hatred that I felt towards myself was so piousness that it scares me to think about. The things that I held inside were begging to come out, but I just pushed them down until I couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. It’s crazy how productive I am now; today I went to class, applied for an internship, redid my resume, did laundry, went to the gym, ran errands, cooked dinner, and did laundry. Six months ago I could have barely done one of those things. Thinking back on the days were I physically could not get out of bed, the nights I spent weeping over my scared skin, feeling so lost an desperate, I am amazed at how far I have come. I’m not saying every day is a walk in the park, but it’s manageable now. I would like to thank everyone who stuck through it with me. It much have been hard to watch day after day, but I am beyond grateful for the people I have in my life who helped me through such a dark time.
Never the less, I am also grateful I went through those things. Because I wouldn’t change the person I am now for anything. I finally, finally, after all these years, can say that I love myself.