darkshines

Today is November 13th. To some it's just a typical day. A birthday (like my cousin's), a regular work day before the weekend, a school day. To many others, today is a day to show their love and support for a great cause known as 'To Write Love On Her Arms.'

I am a former self-injurer. I used to bruise myself. It was something that started when I was around 9. It wasn't until I was 15 and mentioned it to my therapist that I realized it was actually something common. I thought I was alone. I thought it was my secret shame. It actually made me feel comforted that I wasn't alone. But as much as I wanted to stop, I couldn't. I have battled depression my entire life. Even know I sometimes feel it coming on. But I want to be alive. I have goals. I have a future. So I continue to fight my depression, even when I don't see a point.

It wasn't until last year that I was made aware of this organization. And it's one that I can't help but take part in. So I urge you, anyone who reads this, whether you self harm or know someone who does, or even if you've never experienced it in anyway, please take part in today's movement. It's simple. Just write the word 'love' on your arm. Keep it simple or make a statement and use bold colors. If people ask you what it means, tell them. Send them to the website. I can guarantee you that a vast majority of the people that you come into contact on a daily basis suffer from depression and you don't even know it. And maybe they aren't aware of the fact that they aren't alone.

By the way, I have not harmed myself in 10 months. I have gone for longer periods in the past. My longest streak without harming myself is 5 years. I'm shooting for 10 this time.

While I don't regret the move that I made from California to New Jersey, I do regret the things that have since gone missing. I have discovered that I am missing two, if not three boxes. Among the missing items that I can replace (books, cd's, bracelets) there are several things that have gone missing that I cannot replace. Things such as a journal that I completed right before the move. Or pictures of my mother and former friends. Jewelry that belonged to my mother. Memorabilia that I have collected through the years. None of this can be replaced in any way and I am missing it all terribly. It was hard enough to lose my mother. But now I have to face the fact that I lost priceless reminders of memories past.