Friday, June 22, 2018

#Iwillbleedforbetterreasons

       Alright people, confession time! If you ever meet me in person one of the first things you'll notice is my charming personality and incredible sense of wit. Or my absolutely stunning beauty. Or my humbleness. One of the second things you'll notice is the hundreds and hundreds of scars which decorate my wrists and thighs. Though I suppose you'd only see my thigh scars if I were in a bathing suit. Or shorts. So the second thing you may notice is my potential as a bathing suit model. A I don't blame you. But the next thing you'd see would be scars.  Here's the thing, I am number 25. I mean I'm probably not, there are probably hundreds of number 25s, but you know what I mean. Unless you don't. In which case you should go buy a copy of Jenny Lawson's book Furiously Happy and read it. Go on, I'll wait.
        You're back? Great. Amazing book, wasn't it? Anywho, now you understand. I am number 25. I would put a trigger warning here, but honestly this entire blog and life in general needs a big flashing neon sign saying "Warning: this may upset you!" So I'm not going to, you have been warned, let's get back to the story. I wanted nothing more than to end my life. But then I read other people's stories about losing friends and loved ones. And when I opened up to my male best friend  about my struggles, he started crying and telling me he cannot lose me. He changed my world by making sure I didn't.
       This is while my mental health problems were still undiagnosed. I didn't really know what to do, so I turn to self harm as a coping mechanism. Not the best choice, btw. 0/10 I do not recommend. And I knew very well that it was unhealthy and that I could die. I had seen the statistics. But the thing was, a) I just didn't care and b) I was addicted. It sounds like a funny thing to get addicted to. Be all like "WOOHOO LET'S GO SPLIT SOME SKIN! YAY!" But that's not quite how it worked. Prepare yourself for a probably inaccurate science lesson: when you get hurt, your body releases either serotonin or dopamine or endorphins. I can't remember which. Maybe all three?  I don't know. I'm not a scientist, people, stop judging me. But the point is your brain releases a happy feeling chemical. And that's what you get addicted to. Especially when your brain doesn't make enough of that as it is.
        But when I got diagnosed, I started getting help to stop self harming. At first it was really really hard. And some days it still is. And somedays I still relapse. That's perfectly normal. But on the hard days I have a saying I like to tell myself: "I will bleed for better reasons today". Is it morbid? Slightly.  But I don't care, because it's true. When you think of every injury you get, of every time you bleed, there are plenty of better reasons to bleed than self harm. It's become a bit of a mantra for me: I will bleed for better reasons today. And so will you.
         So let's take a stand. Let's help everyone hear this. Shout it from rooftops! I WILL BLEED FOR BETTER REASONS TODAY! YOU WILL BLEED FOR BETTER REASONS TODAY! EVERYONE WILL BLEED FOE BETTER REASONS TODAY! All Ophrah style. For those who are struggling, remember you are strong. Remember depression lies. Remember that you are not alone. Remember that you will bleed for better reasons today. For all those who have other mantras, what are they? Let's fight this together. #Iwillbleedforbetterreasons

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