So far,so good

Last week was my one year anniversary of making it through a suicidal episode and a half-hearted,badly done,botched attempt.

So much to think about, so much I remember,so much I don't.

I tried to read through my journal of that time and I had to put it down,walk away and ended up taking 1/2 a xanax because it rattled me so much.

Was that[i] really[/i] me who wrote all that? It was SO scary and sad and so,so,so messed up.

I have pages in it written in my blood. Looking at them just freaked the shit outta me yet I can't bear to tear them out and throw them away and I don't know why I keep them or even why I am keeping the entire journal. Most of the scars on my arm have faded, only the deepest 3 still show. I wear short sleeves shirts this spring w/o it being a big deal. Nobody has ever noticed them anyways. I cut the top of my foot up pretty badly but luckily even those have faded. I can just barely see them. One of these days I'd like to have my foot tattooed and turn the scars into flowers or something beautiful.

It took what seemed like a looooooong time but my meds are finally working.

I feel good.

And more days than not I can honestly say I am happy I am still here.