Loving myself has been a long and arduous process.
I have struggled with depression, and anxiety, and disorders, and so many issues that killed my spirit. Or, tried to, at least. Too many years and too many diary entries filled with so many bitter thoughts and emotions, things that were slowly eating me up inside, leaving an unidentifiable shell of who I was. It was scary.
But 18 years have passed, and falling in love with myself, while sometimes a struggle, has become much easier. And much more fun. And much more colorful, if my hair is any indication.
This morning, I started my Leaving Cert. In eight days, I’ll be done. This summer, I’m focusing on me; my artwork, my YouTube channel, my music, my life. In September, I’m starting art college, and planning trips, and working in a theatre. I have a published book to my name, and recorded slam poetry, and years of theatrical and filming work experience, and produced plays, and painted murals, and awards for my artwork, - artwork featured internationally.
I am two years officially out after three years of struggling with my identity, three years away from my last suicide note, three years out of therapy, four years out of hospital, and probably the happiest I’ve ever been in this lifetime.
I love myself. God, I love myself. Every inch of myself. And nothing in this universe can take that away from me. Not any more.