A year ago I couldn’t go a week without ending up in the hospital for a suicide attempt and needing stitches. Sometimes my parents or friends didn’t know, and if they did they never came to see me or anything anyway. I thought I was gonna die that way. In pain and alone. Over the last year I built myself up. I had gone to DBT therapy and I took what I learned and built a very small stable platform in the absolute chaotic ocean storm that is BPD. It has now been a year since I even self harmed at all, and I’m in a much better place usually, but I started to slip again and I started to feel so low. And then I realised. All of the shitty people in my life are still the exact same people they were before who didn’t care and who let all these things happen. What changed is me. It is me that keeps me out of the hospital. I’m amazing for doing that, and I’m going to keep trying.