January

So I don't really do New Years, or New Years Eve, or New Years Resolutions.

Or Janurary.


For me the year starts in February, or whenever I start feeling better towards the end of January. I'm sure I've mentioned (rambled about) my thing with new years before; this blog has been going since at least 2006 (on one platform or another).

So as usual, first week or so was awful, for various reasons, but it's picked up. Insanely well.

It's been a whole year since I last self-harmed. Also from a bad new years, bad by it's mere existence. Since then I've managed. I've coped. At least, I've coped without cutting myself. I do cope relatively well with the world, even at it's worst, or my worst. I still like to hide out, though not for as long. I still have panic attacks. It's all manageable though. I get through and I live my life.

I have also been discharged from mental health services.

Now, this is big, I mean, not self-harming for a year is awesome, though I do not quite feel the pride others seem to think I should, but getting discharged is something else. I think I first got referred to a psychiatrist when I was still at DMU, so I was about 20. So I've been in the system for almost ten years. And you don't even realise it, don't even realise how much time goes by, a lot of it without any progress. So much time in the system gets lost to just trying to get the right help. More time is spent trying to get help at all, than actually getting help.

Then sometimes, the strangest thing happens, you're discharged.

It's pretty awesome.

And it's still January.