"To Write Love On Her Arms" Has Changed My Life

        I remember being 15 years old, feeling like I was the only person in the world dealing with the secret shame of self mutilation. At this time, I was feeling more alone than I ever thought could be possible. As naive as it sounds, I thought my addiction to cutting myself was unique. It just wasn't something that people were comfortable talking about. I remember being taunted and talked about because of the scars on my arms that were only visible for seconds at a time.. I had become very fond of long sleeves and pants that were dark enough to hide any sign of blood that may have bled through the bandages that covered the fresh cuts on my legs from the night before. I saw counselor after counselor, but none of them seemed to have any real advice to help me find new ways to cope with my issues. After all, how many therapists do you know that have a history of self mutilation? I felt too ashamed to open up about it, especially since they had no way of truly understanding the gravity of what I was dealing with. 
       I eventually started doing my own research, reading every book about cutting that I could. And I remember the day I came across an organization that called itself, "To Write Love On Her Arms". This completely blew my mind. As I read that phrase over and over again.. it became so clear.. I wasn't alone after all. Not once had I even come across anyone who took self harm so seriously. For years I had been told it was just a phase, that I would grow out of it, and that I just wanted attention. The frustration I had felt for so long, slowly melted into hope as I read the story of "Renee". I thought to myself, "Wow... it's like someone else is telling my very own story.".... Which was something I had never done before. I never talked about it. I hid my scars as best as I could, growing silent whenever someone would make jokes about cutting. I never once considered speaking out or reaching for help by sharing my story with those who were going through the same thing.
       TWLOHA has transformed my way of living. I am no longer too ashamed to wear short sleeves. Why? Because now I have hope where there used to be fear. Now, at the age of 21, I'm not saying that I don't have those bad days anymore, where the temptation is so strong, and the sorrow is so heavy. But what I am saying... is that I now have the courage to continue on my journey of recovering from those destructive habits. I have truly been inspired to replace hate with love, not only in my own life.. but in the lives of people I have never even met. I have taken it upon myself to do my part.... To Write Love On Her Arms.

Moratorium

        

                               --I declare a moratorium on all things important--

           Originally the name of this post was going to be "The Beauty of Letting Go". However, I just learned the word moratorium, and I wanted to put it somewhere... so... yea. I'm going to use this space to talk about recent events in my life. Kinda the "News Segment" of my blog... except... not as boring.

Today was a very stressful day for my family. Lots of tears and important discussions. I sort of hung back and tried to steer clear of any unnecessary stress, due to the fact that I take medication for it. But either way, the zoloft and xanax had to work over time today. The details aren't as important as the general idea of how extremely life altering these events that took place today are. I know what you're thinking, "Is she gonna spit it out or not?". Well... no... cause chances are... if you know me at all, then I've probably already told you. However, if I haven't told you yet then there's a possibility that I don't feel like talking about it just yet. Because once again... if you know me, then you know how passive I tend to be when it comes to change. 

          OH YEA! I almost forgot... I had an interview today which I feel went very well. I'm actually pretty pumped about this because I am very tired of being broke! So hopefully I will get one of the positions I applied for. I also start counseling at the end of this month which will be beneficial in so many ways to my well being... and also yours. My mother seems to think that I'm Bipolar. No seriously.. literally, medically diagnosed as Bipolar. I've been taking meds for a while now, but perhaps I'll talk to the doc about my mothers concern. 

         Ok, so I realize that this entry is sort of scatter brained, but unfortunately that is just how I am right now. I'm afraid I might be developing a sinus infection. And once again, if you really know me at all, then you would know how sick I get when i get a sinus infection. There's been a couple times where I ended up in the emergency room due to dehydration and other issues resulting from it. My sinus infections are so bad that I get a bloody nose from the infection. But along with that, comes a fever, migraine, sore throat, nausea AND vomiting, and the lack of ability to walk without passing out. Pretty much the WORST pain I have EVER been in. So........ as you're reading this....... close your eyes......... yes....... right now....... and pray for my health! Thanks friend! I'm dead serious, I can't afford to get sick again! :) 

              Well, this about wraps it up. I'm out of words. Love ya all :)

Cold Nostalgia

You're not the same anymore, I don't know you. What was once a warm and comfortable thing, is now a cold unfamiliar void. Even if you said all the things I've wanted to hear for so long.. it wouldn't matter.. too much has happened. As I write this, my head is aching and my stomach is turning. Why? Because you make me feel so many things that hurt. From the outside it looks as though I've let you go. As if.. I don't care about you anymore. That's why I'm glad people judge the outside rather than taking a closer look. We used to write to each other when we were apart. And now.. I can't seem to shake that longing to tell you how I feel. There's so much that I've wanted to tell you, yet so much I want to keep from you. I want so desperately to return to how we were, but there's something so dark about the cold nostalgia you make me feel. I've dreamed of your face many nights since I last saw you. I awake with a mixed feeling. Happiness and disappointment take over my heart leaving me feeling guilty for missing you. The truth is, I'm so angry for loving you. If I had it my way, you would be erased from my mind. But erasing you, would erase some of the best and happiest moments of my life. Moments when what I felt was so strong that it couldn't even be explained or put into words, even if I tried. Moments when I learned about myself and how to love someone. Now.. all I'm left with is your memory. Vivid images in my head of your smile, the funny faces you would make, how you looked when you were sleeping, how heartbreaking you looked when you cried.... and I can hear your voice in my head, and your laugh. I even remember exactly how it felt when you hugged me, and the warmth of your arms. As much as it hurts to think this... maybe I just need a hug from you. Or at least... from the memory of you.

Goodbye Forever

     I think the thing that hurt the most is how close we were.. how in sync we were.. how.. beautiful we were together. I remember the day I first saw you. How I had such an obvious personality conflict with you, and how I couldn't stand to be around you. And when we talked of those first months, it would always make us laugh because of how invincible we had become. I remember when you got sick... and I came to see you every single day, even if it meant I had to skip lunch. I remember traveling long distances with you by my side. Even a 20 hour ride with no air conditioner was just perfect cause we went through it together. I remember all the inside jokes, sucker punches, tears, dreams, long emotional talks, arguments, clothes, notebook entries, constant text conversations, and 3 hour phone calls we shared. I also remember the exact moment when you very seriously looked me in the eyes and said, "Will you be my best friend?". I loved taking you lunch when you were working, even though you're a picky eater and always complained about it. We always seemed to get in trouble together.. mainly because you couldn't keep your mouth shut and you always told on yourself. You made me laugh when my world was falling apart, and you always told me, "Come on Teres, it's time to pull yourself up by your bootstraps." You'd never hesitate to tell me when I was wrong, even if you agreed with what I was saying. You tried your hardest to understand my passive aggressive tendencies. We were so close that we used eachother as a trashcan for our own emotional vomit. At times we tore each other down, because we knew we could get away with showing our true selves to eachother. The details of why we don't speak anymore, are ugly and hurtful, still filled with a little bitterness. Though I know you may never read this.. I just needed to say.. I forgive you. As hard as it is to reflect on the good things about our friend ship, I needed to remember you for why I loved you. And deep down, I still love you, and I always will. I try hard not to think of you, but when I do.. I look up and pray that you will have a happy life, apart from mine. Goodbye my friend. Goodbye forever.