365 days
365 days
12 months
31536000 seconds
525600 minutes
52.143 weeks
8760 hours
1 year.
That's how long I have been clean for.
When you say a year it doesn't sound like much, but when you break it down like that, it's so much more than 12 months.
12 months of constant hard, determined, exhausting work and effort put into a recovery that has taken up all of my teenage years and the first year of my 20s,
The addiction, the bad habit that i thought i couldn't live without, here i am a year later, living thriving without it. 12 year old me, wanting to find a way to cope, to feel something, to escape from everything. That 12 year old me, sacred of what i was doing and trying to feel in control
That feeling of being in control disappeared just like that.
1 cut turns to 2 which turns to 3 then 4,5,6,7,then before you know it, you're covered and wondering how you let yourself get like that.
Stuck with trying to hide everything, the shower stings, the clothes stick, the pain, the blood, the amount of plasters, the stitches, the long sleeves, the regret.
The constant thought of doing it, every day, every minute, every hour, the thing that consumes your mind, the only thing that you can focus on something you want to do after a bad day, the thing that consumes you. The only thing that understands you.
You become a different person, a horrible, distant person, that one wants to be around, the person that snaps at anything. The urge to just keep doing it
When people find out they change, they tip toe around every conversation. The lack of trust in case you do it again, the constant arm, legs, stomach checks. The shouting, the screaming, just for someone to tell you are stupid, looking for attention, no one understanding WHY you are doing it . no one listening, no one caring.
365 days later
A job
A good bunch of friends
Brilliant support network
Hobbies
Finally trusting yourself
Stable
Most importantly
12 months
31536000 seconds
525600 minutes
52.143 weeks
8760 hours
1 whole year
Clean from self harm, the thing i never thought i would stop the thing that took over my life
I would back in a heartbeat and hug my younger self for putting her through all of that, and it truly is worth putting the effort into recovery
Healing takes time, so do the scars that are now left on my body as a reminder that I have survived the hardest parts.
My scars, my story.
365 days.
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Author:
Bethan (
Offline)
- Published: April 19th, 2025 16:14
- Comment from author about the poem: trigger warning talks of self harm.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 8
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Comments1
A harrowing story and a magnificent victory in this poem written with rawness and an ending of hope. Lovely
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