So I have been stuck at a cross-road for some time. Many people say about mental ill-health that “it is not a choice to suffer, but it is a choice to recover“.
I somewhat agree, but I want to express just how hard it can be to choose recovery when your whole psyche is programmed for self-destruction. It sounds bizarre, but somewhere inside this messed-up head of mine I am still trying to repress that bit of me that wants to press the big red button.
I guess that is exactly why my anxieties that caused my self-harm transferred onto alcohol. Giving up self-sabotaging is a battle. Alcohol is a battle. I wish that my tongue had never tasted it’s burning poison and that my brain had never experienced its inhibitve powers. I wish that I had never felt the rush of calm as I first broke the seal of my skin, but I do not want to look back and regret.
I hope to go forwards and succeed so that one day I will be in a position to make change. I am going to prove to Occupational Health that I am fit and suitable to study medicine as I genuinely want to help others in a way that I wasn’t always helped. My scars will not become a barrier to my success but rather an alternative step-forwards on a more scenic route that I am taking to my final destination.