So Far Away

Something miraculous happened.
I've been putting Mederma on my scars for a couple of months now, and every time I did I would look at them with regret; regret for ever cutting, and regret for telling people about it. I would think about them and be fearful that someone (especially my parents) would see them; I would be afraid of how anyone would react. Yesterday, I looked at them and was actually proud. Which seems weird- why would someone be proud of their self-mutilation, all the damage they did in moments of weakness? Then it hit me. I'm proud of these because for the first time, I truly feel like they are only a part of my past. This is not to say that I am completely "saved" or "cured," or that I won't cut again. I can't make that promise to anyone. But for right now, I don't want to.  I want to see the scars and remember the heartache, the pain, everything that led me to picking up the razor. I want to look at my cuts and remind myself that even through all of that, I made it to here. 75 days and counting. 75 days since I've been so numb that I needed to draw blood to actually feel something again. 75 days since I let someone's words and actions hit that hard and dig that deep. I know there will be more hell I'll go through, it's inevitable with life. And I know that I can sit here and type this out, say that I'll be okay because for right now I am. But the past few weeks have been a testament to all of that. I've found other ways to cope, other ways to push past those urges and the overwhelming need to cut. I've silenced that voice. And for right now, that's all I can ask of myself. 


I've always been one to push myself. I pushed myself through junior high and high school, determined to get a 4.0. I've been pushing myself through college, with the expectation that I'll graduate with over a 3.7 cumulative GPA. And since February 11th 2012, I've been pushing myself to give up a habit I should've never started. 75 days later, and I have never been more proud of myself. I'm not scared about people finding out, because just like everyone else, I have a story. I know not everyone will understand or accept me, but I will. These scars will be a part of me forever, even if they do eventually fade. Because I'll remember how I fought for the freedom from myself, from my own mind. And how for almost 3 months, I've won.


The song So Far Away has always been my favorite. It's been one thing to continually put a smile on my face, regardless of my mood. I've always known I wanted to get those words tattooed on my body, but I never knew where or for what purpose. I think I've found that reason. Because right now, I'm not ashamed to be the person that I am today. This is me, this is my life, and this is part of my story.