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How am I back here again?
Hi guys,
I don't know what to say or why I'm posting it. I kinda feel like putting it into words, to people who have been where I am who will understand, will be somewhat good for me.
I started cutting 11 years ago, when I was 12. It got worse and worse over the years until I was hospitalised in 2008 and began to recover. I was severely depressed, anxious, out of control cutting, suicidal - basically the regular bundle deal well known to the mental health field. It took me a year to recover, and I honestly thought I was past it. I was off my meds, barely had the urge to cut and was happier than I could ever remember being. In retrospect, thinking that I was completely out of the woods was pretty naive. Over the last five years I've been pretty good, had a few slip-ups here and there and briefly went back on the meds once or twice. Last year was more difficult - I had left my boyfriend of 5 years (met him in hospital, funnily enough), my extended family had disintegrated following pedophilia charges being raised against my grandfather, I was kicked out of home and my parents split up. I had just started studying Art Therapy, and the work I did in class was opening up old wounds that I was sure had healed. I began to cut again. This scared me deeply, so I began to see a psychologist again. We worked through my stuff and I honestly believed that I had FINALLY kicked my tendency to self harm. I had no more urges. I felt like the ****ing poster child for recovery. When my little sister was hospitalised for suicidal ideation and cutting, I was the go-to girl for advice, counselling, and care for my sister. I felt like my struggles were worth something because I was able to use my experience to help others, like my sister. That's partly why I am studying Art Therapy.
Fast forward to now. I am engaged to the most wonderful man (the boy I met in hospital grew up!), live in a nice apartment with my older sister/best friend, and am almost finished my Art Therapy course. I should be happy. For the last two months or so I've been feeling like I am getting more and more depressed. Twice this week I've been sobbing uncontrollably to my fiancé. Some days I find it hard to leave my bed, and feel like I have really accomplished something if I also take a shower and get dressed. My urges have also come back, and tonight they are stronger than they've been for years. I haven't completely acted on them - I pinched my wrists rather than cut, but I spent two hours tonight curled up in bed crying with a boxcutter hugged to me.
I am really scared I'm slipping back. Not only that, but how could I ever, EVER presume to be a mental health professional if I can't even take care of myself? I feel like a ****ing phony. I haven't been to class and have stopped working on my assignments because I'm a fake. I can't use my experience of recovery from self harm and depression to help people if I never actually recovered! I don't know what to do. I'm supposed to be getting married in 4 months, and graduating in 3. I just want to curl up and forget about the world, be alone so I am accountable to no one about my mental state or my self harm. I need to find a job, I think a contributing factor to my current state is that I've been unemployed for a few moths. I feel so goddamn useless.
Sorry for the rant and wall of text.
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