On Sunday 5th of January in the afternoon when I was on my lunch hour at work, I found myself in tears on the phone to my best friend because I was back on that bridge again, terrified because I wasn't in control, still haunted by the idea of ending it all for what I often believe to be the greater good.
Thank God she answered her phone. Thank God she knew what to do. Because today I managed to do this
And so I'm feeling very pleased with myself!
This isn't a post about me getting sympathy or anything. It's a post for me. It's a post for me to look back on and be proud of because I was in a black spot, but I managed to retain just enough of me to scramble back up again and I spent my week forcing myself up, forcing myself out of bed and forcing myself to live.
It's been exhausting. There have been times where I've wanted to give up just because I am so tired of this wave of sadness that keeps on hitting me, but I can't give up. I have so many more goals to set myself. My most recent goal was to get upside down on a pole. Now it's to get upside down on a pole with no hands holding on. Small steps. Little goals.
Onwards and upwards.
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