A question I was asked back in April was how do I put little bits of me out in the open every day? How do I just lay my experiences out for everyone to see?
The truth is, while these are very much my experiences, they don't feel like it when I'm writing about them. The exception to that is the sexual assault because it's so recent and raw. With everything else, I've changed so much since it all started, that I no longer feel like the same person. I feel like I'm writing about someone else's experiences.
I think at this stage, there's a feeling of complete emotional separation from the girl who self harmed, and who felt so much self loathing that she thought the world would be better off without her. It sounds strange, but I think I said goodbye to that girl in December, hours before the assault. I sat on a bench beside the Hudson in New Jersey and sobbed. I looked at the New York horizon across the river, two years to the day since I took my last overdose, and I realised I was a completely different person.
It would be harder if I were writing about sexual assault every day. That's not to say that I don't still struggle with the anxiety, the depression, the self harm, or even the suicidal thoughts. Believe me, I do. When I do, I end up fighting a tough battle. I then wake up the following day, still on track with recovery, and feeling pretty proud of myself.
When people comment on how much they've watched me change in the space of a year, I cry. Every time, without fail, I cry. That's because I'm glad that someone else can see the change too. There are days that I don't see it, or I forget. One thing's for sure though, when I remember, there are mixed feelings. There's pain because I wish I could tell the girl that I once was that she is going to get through what she's feeling, that she isn't worthless. There's also joy that I'm no longer that girl.