Caution: This post may be triggering for those who have struggled with self-harm or eating disorders in the past or still struggle today. Proceed with care.
A murky mixture of salty tears and maroon blood splash against the tile floor of my bathroom; A boy lets out muffled screams and lets a shaky hand containing a blade smack against the ground, defeated. Thrashing, gasping, and vomiting; December 1st, 2012, a day like many others, frequently revisits my mind and clouds my thoughts. The bathroom floor became a second bed, hand-crafted specifically for my dry heaving and “Why Me?” attitude. But something was different about this night. Something happened within my mind that had never been touched upon before. A sense of courage, a sense of determination, and the first step towards a long recovery that is still a battle.
It was hard for me as a child to pinpoint who I admired because of how quickly everything changes, particularly in your youth. In the fall of 2012, in the midst of my journey to skin and bones and uncontrollable self-harm, I never thought of what effect it had on myself and my health, and I certainly never though of someone of something that would inspire me to thrive in other aspects of my life besides weight loss. However, I constantly tweeted about how much Demi Lovato was an inspiration to me, hoping that someone would get a clue about what was going on with me. Today, Demi still stands out to me as a phenomenal musician and spokesperson against bullying, self-harm, and eating disorders. However, in a time of gloom and hopelessness, would Demi be there for me when I needed a soothing tone to mellow my raging soul? Relationships and friendships failed as I reached the heart of my depression and eventually, I sat on the bathroom floor with no one to complain to. No one to text in the middle of the night, my typical message of,
“Tonight’s the night, I’m going to do it. I’m going to cut so deep that no one will ever have to worry about me again.”
That was when everything changed for me. When my messages were just being read, but no one was replying. I had driven everyone that I cared about away, until I was all alone in this world.
Towards the start of my blog, I made it seem more like I just stopped starving and cutting myself and that everything was fine and dandy and recovery was easy for me. It was true, I was clean from self-harm for nearly a year, until I found myself on that same bathroom floor yet again. Self-harm is so unnerving because you don’t even recall picking up the blade, you don’t recall slicing your wrist, or your leg, or your stomach, all you remember is the shame you feel when you’re wiping blood off the floor and yourself. In just a few seconds, I had ruined 1 year…12 months…52 weeks…365 days… of resisting the urge. It wasn’t until my first relapse from self- harm that I started finding my inspirations. How ironic that it was those who tore me down and who sat next to me in class that I found the most unimaginable inspiration and courage to fight on. How dare I, have the audacity to reply to a text stating, “I want to cut. I want to purge. I don’t know what else to do.”, with “Stay Strong.” How could I recommend and preach a lifestyle of cleanliness and hope when all I did was sit in my own pool of blood, vomit, and hypocrisy every single day.
My struggles with self-harm had become no secret for those who knew me, those who saw my arms, those who sat next to me in class. It wasn’t until those same people started wearing the pain from their lives on their wrists that I began to truly recognize the power of effect. I thought to myself one night as I laid wide-awake staring on my ceiling, if I showed these people that I could stay clean and represent someone who had looked self-harm in the eyes saying “Fuck you, I’m coming out on top.” Strangely enough, this centered my thoughts more and allowed my recovery to have more of a purpose than just fighting for my happiness. I was now a warrior to defend others and the happiness that they deserved to withhold.
That’s where ConfidencetoCommitment was born, on a quest to push others along the path to find their own joy and safety by understanding the horror that I put myself through. This blog serves not only as a way to inspire others, but as an outlet for myself. I find that the more I blog, the more honest I am, and if I don’t explain a “G-Rated” version of my story, that I am more motivated to not judge myself in the mirror and to not leave fresh wounds upon my skin. I slacked during the school year on updating the world via ConfidencentCcommitment, and it clearly showed on my arms. I can proudly say that my readers, followers, and dear-friends are the reasons I stay strong and are true inspirations. This post goes out to all of y’all. Lots of love.
-J.B.S 07/17/15
Confidence to Commitment 