Although I still have bad days and I still relapse from time to time, there are days where I just lay back and think of how far I’ve come.

I’m moving into an apartment next month, I’m starting college next month, I’ve been receiving treatment for two and a half years now for my mental health, and am continuing to seek help for my physical illnesses and disabilities. I’ve maintained a job for over a year, I’ve graduated high school, I’ve made new friends and shared my story with people. I’ve become a stronger and better person. I’m a flourishing writer and artist who is reaching out and exploring new possibilities- today I just got an offer for an interview for a job I REALLY want!

Five years ago, I was scared and alone and it was right after my trauma. I cried every night because it hurt so bad and I never felt safe and I thought I’d never be loved and comforted and I never thought it would get better. I only left the house for school and when my parents made me leave. I hid everything from everyone and started cutting. My disordered eating escalated into what would become a full-on eating disorder. I thought I wouldn’t live to the end of the year, much less to age eighteen.

I’m still in recovery- that part never ends. I’ll always be ill, both mentally and physically, and I’ll always have problems and suffering and struggles. But that doesn’t mean there can’t be brilliant things happening all the while. I try not to bank of finding happiness anymore, because happiness is just a mood, and it never lasts. Right now, my biggest goal is to achieve joy, a state of being and a state of mind that persists even though there are bad days and hard times.

I’m not there yet, and I have a long ways to go, but I can’t disregard how far I’ve come. I want to be proud of where I am, even though it’s not my final destination.