Today I woke up feeling surprisingly proud of myself. At first I couldn't find a reason for this positive switch and, after racking my brains for a few minutes, I gave up. It was when I was putting on some makeup that the penny finally dropped. Today, I've gone one year and two months without cutting! It feels kind of unreal. I have never made it this far without a single relapse. I've even been able to use sharp objects without seeing them as potential weapons.
It's been a shaky 14 months, but with every day, week and month I keep away from cutting I am one step to my goal. My scars may fade, but they will never vanish completely. But one day I will be able to look back and remind myself that this was one hell of a fight, but I'm in control of my deamons and not the other way around.
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