I'm Just Hanging On

I cannot describe to you the thoughts in my head in enough detail for you to fully understand how hard it is right now.

For the past month I have fought the urge to stick a blade into my own flesh.

For the past month I have wanted to see blood dripping out of my arms and onto the bathroom floor. 

But relapse... after 6 years of being clean? I can’t.

I. WON’T. 

I refuse to let the demons inside my head take away one of my biggest accomplishments in terms of my own mental health.

But it’s hard.

Every. Single. Day.

I fight. 

I fight because I would fall apart if I didn’t.

I fight because a month ago I nearly gave up.

I fight because I know what I was becoming. 

I was refusing to eat. I was refusing to smile. 

I cried. Constantly.

I was miserable. 

I was so close to letting the darkness completely swallow me whole. 

I decided to lay down my weapons and to let the enemies do what they wanted. 

I was tired of fighting. 

But then so many people, who thought the darkness that had begun to surround me was temporary and would be gone in a few days... they started to get worried.

They started to search for the old me. 

I watched my mother cry because she couldn’t help her daughter.

I listened to my best friend beg me to try to get better, because I was his sunshine, and he could see the brightness in me fading away.

It sparked something in me. 

A will to fight.

But now I’m wounded and behind enemy lines.

The fight now is so much harder than  it was before I laid down my weapons. 

The darkness is so much stronger than it once was. 

But I’m healing.

I’m getting stronger. 

Every day is a battle, but it’s getting easier, even though the enemy is stronger. 

I’m healing. 

I’m making my way out.