Before I Go

Chapter 45- A Year Later

After the incident, my parents joined forces and demanded that I go to therapy as a condition of my release from the hospital. Because I wasn't given much of a choice, I reluctantly accepted. While I absolutely hated the idea of spilling my guts to a complete stranger at first, I eventually began to think that it somehow lessened the burden that weighed so heavily upon my shoulders; it was actually helpful to have someone to talk to. Over time, I started to feel better about myself and about life in general. It's been close to a year now of regular sessions, and I can definitely see the improvement.

I can feel it deep within my soul.

I feel lighter. Freer.

My head is no longer crowded with negative thoughts, and my heart isn't so excruciatingly overwhelmed with those emotions that did absolutely nothing for my self-confidence anymore. I admit that I still struggle at times, but I just feel more content with things overall. And that makes me unquestionably happy.

Unfortunately, not everything has gone positively.

My dad couldn't deal with me anymore, and the stress of my issues caused an irreparable rift between my parents. Over time, Dad spent less and less time at home, practically avoiding my mother and me at all costs. While we had never had a close relationship, it still hurt immensely when he stopped speaking to me almost entirely. The infrequent occurrences in which he attempts conversation are few and far between and much less than civil the majority of the time. Any words exchanged between the two of us are clipped and forced, as if neither of us has anything relevant to say to the other anymore. It hurts me more than I care to admit. I can acknowledge that my father and I are both toxic to each other at this point, and giving each other some space is beneficial to us both. I hope we can have a healthy relationship someday, even though I'm not entirely sure what that may look like. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see.

Because of my dad's lack of interest in our family, the strain on my parents' marriage was expected--but that didn't make it any less painful. My mom had kept a brave face in front of me for months before I finally convinced her it was okay to grieve the loss of her marriage. My mom and dad have legally separated now, and my father has officially moved out of our family home instead of just spending extended hours at the office or staying the night in a hotel room on a regular basis. While my mom is grieving what used to be, I also think she's healing; I know in my heart that she'll be okay eventually.

I've come to learn that everything just takes time.

Parker and I are together--officially together. He asked me to be his girlfriend as soon as I was discharged from the hospital. The words spilled out of his mouth as if by accident, surprising even him. I have to admit that it was pretty adorable to see him so flustered like that, his cheeks a rosy pink and his eyes unbelievably wide. Parker had confessed that he had been waiting for the right time to ask me, but the incident made him realize that there isn't really a "right time" for such things. His mouth must have taken the opportunity to voice his desires without his brain's permission; however, he quickly assured me that while he hadn't intended to ask in such a way, he didn't regret the question. We've been together ever since.

Ashton and I are still best friends. In fact, we've become practically inseparable over the last year. Ash is currently taking a gap year with me while I continue to heal and figure out what I truly want out of life. I felt guilty at first when she announced her decision to skip a year of college for me, and it took several weeks for Ash to be able to convince me that I hadn't done anything wrong. While I may be on my way to recovery, it's practically impossible to prevent myself from overthinking things that seem so massive, like this. Regardless of my initial hesitation, anxiety, and guilt, Ashton was finally able to persuade me that she actually wanted a year off to spend time focusing on things other than studying. I almost wholly believe her now, and I've grown to greatly appreciate the sacrifice she's made to be by my side. I hope to make it up to her someday, regardless of her protests about it.

I've learned a significant amount about life over the last year. For instance, I've realized that no one's life is easy, regardless of how put-together or effortless things may seem. I've learned that even though there are hard days, bad days, and empty days... there are much better ways to cope with the pain than by physically harming myself. In fact, I've actually just celebrated the one-year mark since the last time I mutilated my own flesh, if you can believe it. Honestly, I don't ever want to be in that situation again. The entire experience has left me permanently scarred, both physically and emotionally, and I will never choose to repeat it.

Instead, I choose to surround myself with all the positive things in my life and with as much love as I possibly can.

So, every day, I make the conscious decision to do better. To be better. To work toward becoming someone that I can someday be proud of.

I choose life, and I choose happiness, and I choose love. I choose my mom, Ashton, and Parker. And most of all, I choose myself. You know, some days, I can even love myself; but I don't know if I'll ever admit that out loud. It's a long and sometimes daunting process, but I think I'm finally making some decent headway.

And I know that someday, I'll finally be okay.

It's a good feeling; entirely foreign, but so good.