This week, I am two years clean of self-harm. 730 days of self-love and happiness. Because one day, I just decided to stop. I hit rock bottom, and I knew it could only go up from that point. I was over being miserable, I was done with hating myself and my life. I was done with long nights of self-pity, and wondering "why me?"

I just woke up one day and decided to change. That can happen, I know that because it did happen to me. I was sixteen years old and realized I was given a beautiful life, and I was throwing it away instead of living it. Nothing really changed besides the fact that I no longer took my pain out on my wrists, or my hipbone. I had the courage and want to change, and so that is exactly what I did. These past two years have not been perfect. I woke up many days wanting to harm myself, or blame myself for something that was beyond my control. I am no longer helpless.

I will never be fully recovered. I take medication every day, and still see my therapist and psychiatrist. My mental illness does not define me. However, I am thankful for my illness because I would not be who I am today without it. And the person I am today is someone my sixteen-year-old self needed. I am forever grateful to be here today. I am so lucky to wake up every day loving my life and everyone in it. If I had not stopped the dangerous path I was on, I would not have been able to live this life in it’s fullest.

I would not be able to love and be loved in return. I would not be able to hope, dream or wish. I would have left a life never knowing what could’ve been. And what “could’ve been”, is now what it is, and that is pretty amazing. What’s even better is that the best has yet to come. Recovery is a beautiful thing. It will always get better. This life is so worth it.