This has truly been a challenging year for me. I have literally hit my rock bottom and tried to end it all. Eventually, I found my way out of the dark side through a week-long stay in a psychiatric unit.

This year has made me feel weak, small, empty, forgotten, unloved, and immensely broken.

But I made it.

I didn't try to end my life nor make myself feel pain for one whole year. Before this breakdown, I hadn't self-harmed in nearly six years, but sometimes, you have to hit rock bottom to realize you need help.

Getting better and keeping myself safe from me was not an easy job. The first six months, I literally fooled myself into thinking that I was doing better. I got out of the hospital and said, "I'm healed. I'm better. I don't need the medicine, and I don't need the therapy. I'm fixed."

I had convinced myself that a week-long stay in the hospital was a fix-all.

I was wrong.

Fighting mental illness is not something that can be solved in a day, week, month, or even a year. This is going to be a battle that I will have for the rest of my life. I will need a therapist for most of my life if I want to stay on the wagon, and I've finally accepted it.

I'm very thankful for my support system, the people who stayed there and continued to help me understand why I deserved to feel better about myself. While the people who only cared for a day thought they were helping, it really made me feel more alone once they left again.

So, a true extra thank you to the people that were amazing enough to stay by my side through the worst times of my life.

I strongly encourage anyone struggling with self-harm to seek the help they need. One of the biggest motivators for me was that I didn't want my younger siblings or cousins to have to attend a memorial or funeral for me. I try to set an example for them, and the best example I've done so far is getting the help I desperately needed.

One year self-harm free and many more to come.