One of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life is move past a horrible experience and continue living when all I wanted to do was die. It wasnt until later on in life that I realized how bad these experiences were going to truly fuck me up and only add in to my addiction. The longer time went on, the harder it was getting to push away the intrusive thoughts that shoved their way into my head. Not to mention the flashbacks that happened during the day and the nightmares that encroached me at night. It was as if God wasnt done punishing me yet. At least thats how it seemed to me. I know now that God had nothing to do with these experiences, no, it was my choices that landed me in the situations I got into. I couldn't really blame anyone but myself.

Wanting to literally die takes a lot out of you mentally. When you hate your life so much that you could care less if it were to end, when you purposely place yourself around people and situations that could get you killed, thats when you know you are truly broken. I was in that state for so much of my life that sometimes I felt the old me trying to claw her way through and my old thoughts starting to push their way in again. My self worth took another hit and before I knew it, I started to feel manic and it all spiraled downhill from there. I wish that I could explain everything that went on in my head, and still does, but for the life of me, I barely understand it myself. I just know that now I do what I can to not completely fall back into my old self. I think if I lost myself one more time, I wouldnt be able to recover from it.

All I can do anymore is try to push through whatever is thrown my way. I have to remind myself that whatever I might be feeling, wont last and will end up going away. Taking it one minute at a time is sometimes more necessary then one day at a time.

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