Phoenix

I believe that no matter how hard you fall, you can always stand again. Resilience is the story of how I, a girl with a divided mind and warped priorities, grew to accept myself, to become a woman of strength.

I remember the first time I did it, eleven years old, sitting in my bed at three AM, a blade in one hand and a pool of blood in the other. I remember hiding it from my mother: crying silently to keep from waking her, bleaching the crimson stains out of my clothes and sheets, stashing the blade in my bookcase. I never noticed the physical pain – it merely kept me alive, awake, and out of the scary world of my dreams.

I remember the look on the counselor’s face as I, a thirteen year old with black nail polish and hundreds of scars, finally sought help. I remember my parents’ concern, the therapists, and the pills. I remember the side effects – nausea, fainting, weight gain, rashes, pulling out my own hair… I went on and off of the meds for years, gaining and losing weight with each change. Despite the meds, I kept doing it, hiding it, lying to therapists, parents, lovers, and friends. I was afraid to lose the disease – I thought I was nothing without it.

I remember the last time, still on meds, standing in the kitchen at one AM in October, seventeen years old. I see the bread-knife in its serrated glory, glistening red in the moonlight. I savor the steady drip of blood down my leg, but I do not feel relief. Instead, I feel guilt, and for once I feel the wound. Something was different – I never felt the blade before, only watched it do the bidding of my disease.

I wanted to recover. I had to abandon the blade.

After finding one amazing boyfriend, working with two patient therapists, learning to get the most out of my three meals a day, and seven months of carefully getting eight hours of sleep every night, I went off the meds. I lost weight and gained confidence, and today I celebrate one and a half years blade-free.

At any given moment I must consider how my actions will affect my mood. I choose fruit over candy and sleep rather than studying or partying because I know I will get depressed otherwise. I wake up at seven every morning so I have time to go to the gym – not for my body, but for my mind. Every day that I make the right decisions is better than the last. I’m free.

Burn the phoenix and it comes to sing another day. The bird never gives up, never settles for ash and dust. Anyone anywhere can observe the beauty of resilience – you only need to collect the ashes and believe. The phoenix always returns.