Entry 26...But it's the 28th of January

Pain and Healing: Scars

She is destroyed

Like a glass bottle that was dropped on the ground

She was humpty-dumbty who fell

And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men

Couldn’t but her back together again

No one could put her back together

She felt she was horrible

She saw herself as a problem to everyone

She couldn’t be fixed, so why not make it worse?

There was no cure

She had no hope

She had so much pain

She didn’t know how to deal with it

She picked up the blade

Dragged it slowly across the insides of her arms

It stung, but it felt great

She did it again, again, and again

She would slide the cold, lifeless, piece of metal across her arms

She was addicted; she had no desire to stop

The sight of blood calmed her down

The ruby red, rusty smell lightened her eyes

She had lost the spark in her eyes, but this

This cutting thing was bringing it back; at least she thought

All around her people were acting weird

Pushing her away; talking behind her back

She had no one

She was alone

She was scared

She was hurt

But she did have someone; she wasn’t alone

In the middle of the night she could hear her blade talking to her

He would say, “Come on sweetie. No one cares. I’m the only one here for you.

I make you feel better

I bring the sparkle back to you

I bring you to life; the blood we draw is a sign that you are alive

It doesn’t hurt anyone else

You’ll be fine”

As the months went by, she relied on her best friend

Her blade

She didn’t go anywhere without it

She couldn’t live without it

But she got into so much trouble because of him

Because she was using him (like he told her to)

No one trusted her anymore

No one let her be alone anymore

All of her opportunities were taken away

Still he kept whispering

Talking to her in the middle of the night

Desperately asking her to use him

But she didn’t

She was recovering

There was hope

There was something that could put all of her pieces back together

His name is Jesus

He picked her up when she was on the ground

He loved her when no one else did

He refuted everything her blade said

Surely Jesus was more powerful than her blade

She listened to Him

She was devoted to Him

She was happy with Him

He brought her back to life

HE is the one who brought the true spark back to her eyes

HE is the one who taught her how to live without this monster

HE took over when He had to, to keep her safe

HE was putting her together again

Not people

Not the blade

Not herself

He was the only one who could pick up her broken pieces

He was the only one who could put her back together

He made sure she ate, slept, and kept herself hydrated

He was her savior

In the process of putting her together though

He was not able to completely fix the cracks

He glued her back together

But she was left with scars

He says that her scars make her stronger

Just as His did when He died on the cross

He told her she was beautiful no matter what

He held her head up and kept her hands from picking at her arms

Now she is covered in hundreds of scars

But she is put together again

Now she has scars all over her body

All over her body

On the inside and outsides of her arms

Her shoulders

Her hands

Her wrists

Her stomach

Her hips

Her calves

Her thighs

She has too many to count

But HE tells her that it is a sign of life

He tells her that He will never leave her

He tells her she will be loved and that He has a plan for her future

He tells her that her significant other will come

She needs to become internally strong

She needs to become confident and proud of herself

Before He could let her be involved with another

He has to make sure she loves herself

Because if she doesn’t love herself, how will a man love her?

How will she know if he is taking advantage of her?

How will she know who she really is?

Scars are NOT a sign of weakness

Scars are NOT a call for attention

Scars are NOT a sign of hopelessness

Scars represent STRENGTH

We were strong enough to beat the monsters

The monsters, who tore our lives apart

The monsters that ripped open our skin

Scars show victory

Scars remind us of where we’ve been

They are not a dictation of where we are going

Scars represent a loss of a specific war

But, the VICTORY OF A BATTLE

Sometimes, you have to lose the war to win the battle

Scars are exemplary of that phrase

They are a sign of recovery

They indicate healing

Each scar on my body has a story I will never tell

Each scar is a reminder of my worst nights, my biggest fears, and my loneliness

Each scar is beautiful

Each scar is proof that God heals

Each scar means I was stronger than whatever tried to kill me

I am a FIGHTER

But, I am still a work in progress

But, I will overcome

My scars remind me of the victories I have achieved

I am victorious

I am a victor

I am so proud of myself 

Entry 25: Green Book Letter

I recently came across my Green Book Letter that I wrote in treatment. At SAFE it was not a mandatory task, but it was strongly suggested that before you are discharged to go home, you write a letter to future patients. In this letter, patients would tell little snippets of their stories and give the future patients advice on what it’s like to be at SAFE. Through this, we were trying to build a strong foundation for incoming patients to give them words of encouragement that this program isn’t as bad as it may seem. You become family with the staff, doctors, therapists, and your peers. It is an intensive program, but when you are discharged, you have learned so much valuable information on recovery and processing emotions. It’s important to share with others what you have learned, because you never know who it may help. The Green Book Letters are also used as a reference; you can always pull them out and if you are struggling with a certain thing you can read through them and see if anyone else has experienced this and what they have to say about it. It’s a really need book and I’m so lucky that mine can be included. Here is my letter:

December 09, 2012

Hello,

You are probably going through a rough time right now as you enter the SAFE Program, but I can promise you if you are willing to work as hard as you can, and get yourself up if you fall on your face, you’ll be fine.

My self-injury started my sophomore year in high school. A boy at my school committed suicide (RIP Bennett) and that triggered a lot of my feelings and thoughts of suicide. See, I was bullied to the point that I thought the only way out was suicide, and seeing someone actually carry it out brought up my thoughts. Instead of acting on my suicidal thoughts though, I decided to make a New Year’s resolution to become vegetarian; everything started spiraling out of control at that point. I started to restrict, purge, and exercise three-four hours a day. It took all my strength to tell my mom I thought I had an eating disorder, but from that point on, I started my recovery journey, which consisted of weekly appointments: therapy, psychiatry, dietitian, and physician. Little did I know, if I would of waited a few more weeks to tell my mom, I probably would be dead; my kidneys had started to shut down.

I started traditional self-injury in the spring/summer of sophomore year. After the first time doing it, I decided to do it all the time. I felt like it was the only one thing I could do to be happy. When I told my mom she freaked out and put me in the hospital. I’ve been hospitalized three times for self-injury. After the third time my parents decided to send me here (SAFE Alternatives).They said something had to change before I ruined my life.

I was reluctant to come to safe, but over these past thirty-five days I have learned valuable lessons and met lifelong friends who I never would of met if I didn’t come to SAFE. I have been starting to turn my life around. When I first came into the program I couldn’t recall the last time I had truly been happy with myself, and today I can gladly say: I am HAPPY. Getting myself to this point has not been easy. I have fell flat on my face a good number of times, but I have gotten up each time and pushed harder.

While you’re here, use the logs, they may seem redundant and ridiculous but I can vouch that they will benefit you. Take advantage of your peers and staff they may know exactly what to say to cheer you up!  J Open up and share everything. No one will judge you and you will feel relieved because you are starting to break down your walls. Something that I hope you will learn from me is that if you break the no harm-contract and are warranted probation, DO NOT LOOK AT IT AS A FAILURE. I have gotten probation four times and process questions twice. I have learned something valuable from each one of those times. I was told I would not be graduating the program and I took that really rough. But once I took a step back and realized that I had completed the program successfully, aside from breaking the no harm-contract, something happened with me. I was angry with myself for self-injuring yet again and once again it kept me from getting something I wanted. It was last night I made my mind up. I decided I am DONE letting self-injury rule my life. I am going to be happy and I am done with self-injury. It took me getting probation four times and not being able to graduate to make this decision.

You too can make this decision, this choice. The choice to live a happy, fulfilling life, self-injury FREE, LIFE.  It is not going to be an easy road to travel, but I can promise you the reward will be great. For me that reward is happiness. I believe in you. I know you can make that choice. Do it for your happiness. You deserve to be happy. Go out and chase your dreams and don’t forget: you are STRONG, you are IMPORTANT, and you are BEAUTIFUL. I wish you the best of luck.

Love,

Jules

                                                                                                                                                                     

Kat would be 19 today

Today is Kat's 19th birthday.

Here is a post I found from two years ago:

Dear Katerra Harper,

HAPPY BIRYHDAY! Today you celebrate your first birthday with Jesus. Although we lost you months ago, I can feel the pain and see the memories from that day so vividly. Words cannot describe how missed you are, how loved you are, and how amazing you are. My heart is breaking right now thinking about you, but I know that you are in paradise and there is no better way to spend your 17th birthday. Darling, I keep fighting for you. You are my inspiration, and I know you would want me to continue fighting and helping others. That's who you were... A helper. You cared about others more than you cared about yourself. You were my hero, you are my hero. I know you are looking down at me right now and I ask from the bottom of my heart if you can ask Jesus to strengthen me, because I feel so weak. I feel so inadequate but I can hear your voice, telling me how special I am. Kat, thank you for existing. Please have fun with Jesus today, okay? I love you always and forever. 

-Jules

I also found this post from Kat from December 30th, 2012 

 

Anyways, this is journal is dedicated to Kat. 

January 24, 2016; the day she would have turned 19. 

You have missed so much, I just wish you were here. 

Everyone loves you so much. 

I honestly can't think of much to say, because I'm so upset that you aren't here. I'll try to write another one 

later today. 

XOXO, Jules

Entry 23: Puzzle

I have been working on the 500-piece puzzle of Venice, Italy for the past few days. Today I spent almost eight hours working on it, and I ended up finishing it tonight!

 “Life is like a puzzle,” in so many aspects; but I am going to take it a step further and say, “Recovery is like a puzzle.”

When I was in the process of opening the box I thought of my struggles with self-harm and recovery.

Okay so I get the box, and it was like all taped up around all four sides and I thought there was no way of opening it! Which correlates with the spiral of self-harm: once I started there was no getting out. I had to then think of different ways to get the box open, because I didn’t have scissors; so I used a pen. Sometimes, I had to find different ways to take steps forward, and the pen would correlate to my first hospital stays.

When I got it open, I saw all of the pieces and got overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, was the feeling I felt when I was introduced to coping skills and told to go out and utilize them. I started taking pieces out, flipping them over and separating them. I took the end pieces and put them in a pile, and I separated all of the other pieces by color. This process reminded me of taking a coping skill out of the box and attempting to use it.

The end pieces were my slip-ups; which there were very many of. In some bunches of pieces I was separating, there were many end pieces, and in others, there were only a few. But I did have periods when I relapsed, and I would stay in that relapse cycle for days, even weeks (probably even months). Then I have clean-streaks! I have had many clean streaks; and I would be going strong, but then something would happen and I would choose to hurt myself instead of using my coping skills. Those relapses were my end pieces. Then, I got to the last bunch I was separating and there were no end pieces; my successful journey right now.

Next, I went through all of the end pieces to try and get a frame so I could begin filling it in. Sifting through the end pieces would represent going to treatment, because that’s where all of the major progress was made. That’s when I learned to talk about all of my “end pieces” and started healing from them. Which would be reflected through the completion of the frame.

Filling in the pieces, piece by piece is a reflection of my day-to-day life. They were separated into sections via colors, and there were times I was working on a really vibrant section, and I would find a piece that fit perfectly in a different section. It’s just like when I am going through a easy length of time, where nothing bad is really happening and then there is that one day that is just horrible and awful.

Once this happens, I would stay in a rut for a while; work on the section I switched to. This new section was so much easier because I would fill in the pieces really quick. That easiness would be staying down in this depression because it’s easier than fighting. So when I would feel better and start working towards fighting again, I would re-incorporate my coping skills and that would help me get back into the grove of things.

This process would go on for a long time—I mean, hell there are 500 pieces! It got to a point where I had to go to bed and let myself breathe because I was overwhelmed again. I needed to just take a break. This was my suicide attempt; I didn’t know what to do, so I went into fight or flight. I chose flight. I need a break from reality and so the voices in my head started taking over for me and pouring pills down my throat.

Sleeping last night was like my break from reality over Christmas break: my stay in the hospital.

Then waking up this morning was like my discharge. I then cleaned my room, ate breakfast, put some new clothes on and then grabbed all my stuff to come back and finish the puzzle; or to enter real life again.

I started off really strong this morning, just blowing through the pieces, and then I would have one piece that I couldn’t find, so I would have to move on and tell myself I will find it later. This correlates to my favorite coping skill, “Fake it until you make it.” Because, it’s not technically a bad day, it didn’t keep me stuck in a rut. I saw it, and there was nothing I could do, so I moved on. Once I found the piece, I wouldn’t be faking it anymore. I would have actually made it. I wouldn’t be faking my feelings! There were multiple times this situation was repeated.

Finally I made it to the homestretch! This was the hardest part, because all of the pieces looked the same. Some pieces fit in places that were perfect for them, and then I come to realize they were in the wrong spot so I would have to go back and fix them. Some pieces just wouldn’t go anywhere I would have to play with it until they easily slid into their position.

I imagine this is what it’s going to be like when I have a stable income, house, children, and possible husband. I am going to adopt my kids, so when I was going through the pieces and trying to find their right spot… is how I imagine the adoption process to be. Then through sliding the pieces and fitting them in their correct spot, is meeting my children and bringing them home with me. When I continue to get more pieces correct in my last section is how I imagine the future to be like.

There will be easy times, and hard times. There will be times when I fake it, times when I make it. There will be speed bumps, and there will be enough strength to overcome those obstacles. There will be hurt and pain, but there will also be love. So much love. Whether it is just motherly love for my future kids, or romantic love between my future husband and I. 

SIDENOTE: I have high expectations for the man the Lord has picked for me. If He has chosen anyone at all! It has to be someone who wants the same things in life as I do; he has to have attractive personality traits. For example: I imagine him being kind, supportive, loving- so so loving, courteous, smart, brave, strong, trustworthy, honest, thoughtful, very caring, and a strong role model for me. I want to be so in love with this man that I will never want anything else. I want to have someone who treats me like their best friend, confident, partner, equal. I will give him the world, and I hope that I can find someone who is willing to do the same for me. As well as being able to handle my crazy, my slip-ups, my bad days. But is strong enough to take my hand and walk with me through them. I want someone who is so in love with me that he can never stop talking about me, and will tell the kids the best stories about us. I want to be able to tell our kids that we love each other so much, that we used that love to travel and meet our little baby; who we were going to love even more.

Okay anyways. I’m going on and on. But, I want to be able to look back on my life when I am wrinkly, slow, and on death’s door step and say, “Jules, you did it. You made it through hell and back. Your children are amazing; you raised such wonderful and inspiring kids. You gave your heart away, and you got so much more love thrown at you. You made that choice to live when you were 19, and look at where you are now. Thank you so much for choosing to live, we would have missed so much. We never would have had the chance to build this amazing life for ourselves. You truly are a warrior. Just look at how well you have done for yourself. You should be so proud, you made it. You are a success story….”

“…You finished your puzzle.”

Finish your puzzle.

Entry 22: Three Pieces of My Heart

My heart is divided in three, and it is the best feeling ever.

The first part belongs to the Vivian, the little girl I’ve been looking after since she was still crawling, and taking bottles. The second and third parts belong to the sweetest little boys, Liam and Henry. I have been looking after them since they were super young.

Vivian has taught me how to forgive, how to love above all else, how to be kind to everyone; how to sing, how to laugh, how to keep smiling. She continues to teach me that sometimes everyone just needs kid time; how to run around and sing like it’s the most fun activity ever.  How to giggle, and love food, love Netflix, love sleeping, love being around someone else. She has taught me that sometimes we all just need a little cuddle time with our best friends. Viv has taught me how to smile again, and she brings so much joy into my life. This little girl has the sweetest heart; she is so compassionate and strong, as well as beautiful and honest. She has the warmest heart. She asks her mommy about me all the time, and tells her mom about everything we do when she’s gone. Viv gives me so much hope, so much strength; she teaches me to be independent by doing her own thing and not caring about anything else. She will strut around the house in her diappy, (pronounced die-py), twirling and telling me that she is not putting her PJ’s on. Her stubbornness makes me think of myself. She is confident and talented and so adventurous. She is a shining star in my world of darkness. She makes me so proud. Viv is one third of my heart.

My other two thirds belong to two of the silliest little boys I know. When I show up they are always a little reluctant to let mommy leave, but after giving kisses and hugs they cheer right up and start up their little chatterboxes. They are brothers and they have a lot of the same personality traits, but at the same time, they are so different.

Big brother, Liam, is a gentle, calm, considerate and caring. He is the caregiver, he will always but you above himself. We sit down and watch Jake and the Never land Pirates, or Mickey’s Play clubhouse, and he always shows me which one he wants to watch, and which one his brother wants to watch, and then Liam chooses his brothers episode.

He is so talented, so intelligent, and such a bright young boy. He is so thoughtful, loving and just an all around a wonderful little boy. He has taught me how to love; no matter how broken my heart becomes. He reminds me that even in the broken pieces I can use them as mini-hearts to love other people; that even in the brokenness I am still able to love others. He has taught me that we can’t just look out for ourselves in this life, we have to look out for and care for the people we love, emotionally and physically. He is the first one to offer a hug, a hand, a toy!! Liam is one third of my heart.

Little brother, Henry, makes me such a happy, and incredibly proud person. When I met him, he was still crawling. Then as time went by, he started to stand and as soon as he started walking we would run around the house laughing, and when he fell, he would always pick himself right back up and continue running. Henry always has the widest, brightest, and most adorable smile on his face. He is a cuddler, he loves being able to cuddle up with me and watch television, sometimes holding my hand. He always runs up and sits on my lap when it’s time for bedtime stories. He is always the last one to get out of the bath because he has so much fun in there! He finds joy in every part of his day. I remember one weekend when I come back from college to watch the boys and Henry was mumbling a little bit, grunting his words, pointing and communicating with me. It was amazing! Mom told me that he was a little behind in the speaking aspect but they were teaching him ASL (American Sign Language) and he was doing so well with it! Every time I would come over, he would be using his hands and progressing so much.  

Honestly, the best day of my life was when Henry said his first words around me. It makes me cry to this day because of how proud I was, no I am, of him. Just thinking of that day, when he first spoke warms my heart. He was standing at the window when mom was leaving and he started waving and saying, “Bye mommy! Love you! Bye mommy!” Literally I fell to the floor and started crying and hugging him. Liam came up and was like, “Jules are you okay?” and I had to explain to him how these were happy tears, and how Henry made me so happy I was crying happy tears.

From that day, I told myself that if Henry can conquer this task that seemed impossible then so can I. He taught me that no matter how far you are behind, you always have the ability to sprint and come out on top. His strength and determination inspires me. He never backs down from a challenge. He taught me how to fight, how to love life, no matter the cards it deals you. He has taught me that sometimes you just have to be brave. He has a heart made of pure gold. Henry is one third of my heart.

Now, I obviously have other people that I love and care about and if I were to explain everyone else in my heart it would take me forever.

Jesus loves us so much that it is indescribable. He loves us when we can’t love ourselves; He is the first one by our sides whenever something goes wrong. He holds us when we are panicked, gives us signs when we need them, and cares for us when we feel no one else does.

My brother Vinnie is the next one I would talk about. But I’ll save him until tomorrow.

My three sweet angels: Viv, Liam, and Henry, have brought so much joy into my life; joy that I did not think was even possible. They are my heart, they are three reasons why I’m still alive.

Vivian, thank you for your spunk and independence.

Liam, thank you for your compassion and love.

Henry, thank you for your strength and bravery.

I love you always and forever.

Entry 21: Little Things vs. Inner Peace

I always get so frustrated at myself for the smallest things. Like:

I don’t leave early enough to make it ten minutes early to class

I don’t write things down so I forget

I’m always scatter-brained

I can’t communicate my thoughts verbally without stuttering

I forget about appointments because I don’t write them down; and remember 5 minutes after and then have to sprint to the doctors so I don’t get a no-show fee, and I apologize the whole time I’m there and they say, “It’s totally fine, don’t worry about it!” But I can’t stop worrying about it; because I feel so stupid.  (I’m intelligent, I’m smart, I’m intelligent)

Some days it will be as little as forgetting my chap stick in my room, or not grabbing my student ID when I leave the building so I have to call someone and disrupt their day. I get the wrong order, or the wrong food. I’m shaky and that frustrates me so much.

At the end of the day, when I’m reflecting I just think, “Like that stuff isn’t even important. It doesn’t even matter. There are so many other huge things that could be going on and their not. So breathe.”

Then I feel a little bit better.

In my World Religions class, (which is probs my fave right now because it’s like an anthropology course) we are learning and researching about Hinduism. I have found some immense and incredible inner peace from the traditions and creation stories; as well as their multiple gods, which are equivalent to Catholic Saints.

It’s such a peaceful religion. Okay I still love Jesus and that will never change; He is my Lord and Savior and He has saved me soooo many times. He loves me when I don’t love myself; forgives me when I don’t deserve it, and picks me up when I fall. What’s different though, is learning about the stories of the Hindu gods and goddesses. It’s a very philosophical religion.

Everything is connected; it’s is a representation of the chain of life. Whatever an individual does, affects the cosmic forces. Okay let me explain; I’ll throw in some key words too. (I’m doing this from memory, not using any resources)

The chain is:

Brahman, or cosmic forces

Atman, universal soul; equivalent to Brahman

gods/goddesses, equivalent to Catholic Saints

Communities

Families

Individuals

Okay so for the example I am an individual… and I refuse to do something my parents tell me to do. Or I start dating someone they don’t approve, or let’s say I started hurting myself again. When my family would find out about ANY of those things, it would bring dishonor to them. Now since my family is dishonored, the dishonor has made it’s way into the community (because my family is a part of the community). When dishonor is brought to our community, the gods and goddesses would have dishonor brought upon them because all of our communities are under their authority, or under their watch. When dishonor is brought to the gods and goddesses, their universal soul, or the Atman gets distorted and when there is distortion in the Atman that means there is distortion in the Brahman, or the cosmos.

So literally, if you do anything against your parents wishes you could be effecting the cosmic forces of our universe. You would be altering the forces of the cosmos. 

I just find that so intriguing!

Samsara, the process of reincarnation

Jiva, individual soul

Moksha, liberation from Samsara

If I do not achieve Moksha in my lifetime then I will go through Samsara and have another lifetime to achieve it. There are many ways one can achieve Moksha, one is through yoga; which can be postures, meditations, communion and union of your Jiva with the Supreme. It’s a process that promotes relationships with the gods. It can also be achieved through Bhakti (devotion, prayer), through increasing your karma, through Puja (worship), Raja-Yoga (path of self-control and meditations to the gods). There are many more ways.

Okay so Samsara is NOT something one wants to go through. In your first lifetime, it is the goal to achieve Moksha so you will not have to go through Samsara. Because the more times one is exposed to Samsara the worse their reincarnations become, (human to cow to dog to lizard to caterpillar to gnat, or something like that).

When one achieves Moksha, they lose their Jiva, or their individual soul. Once their Jiva has lost its individuality it becomes a part of the Atman or the universal soul, which everyone who has achieved Moksha becomes a part of. But again, I stress that there is NO individuality. So, since Atman is equal to Brahman we become fused with the cosmic forces. This is the goal of Hinduism. To become one with Brahman.

I just think it’s such a beautiful religion. I could go on and on about the different gods and goddesses that I have come across; but I’ll spare you. This has just been something that is a positive in my life. When something doesn’t make sense or I want to do something bad I think of affecting all of those people, all of the forces and ultimately the cosmic forces; and I can’t do it! I don’t want to be the cause of a ripple effect in the forces of the cosmos.

It is something I can refer to, and I love yoga; and it brings a spiritual awakening and spiritual aspect to yoga. This religion is something that has helped to calm me, to bring inner peace through meditation and I’m honestly in love with it.

I think I am going to start incorporating some of those beliefs and practices into my life, because of how incredible it makes me feel.

Finding something that brings serenity, calmness, and patience into your life is almost key to survival. We are born with an innate belief in religion. A lot of tribal communities don’t know what the word religion is. They just believe it to be a way of life. Atheists make that choice to not believe in any form of God, but most of them are aware that there is a higher being.

Through this innate desire, it brings us a sense of belonging, a part of a congregation, a member that makes up a whole. It brings awareness as well as self-importance into our lives. Religion, that is just a man made word to express the belief in higher power; religion can be any sort of feeling that brings us together with someone. It’s very complex.

But finding this inner peace helps so much throughout our lifetime. It is something that can be used as comfort, a coping skill, tradition, pride, and inspiration. Heck, it can be the purpose of someone’s life.

ANYWAYS, moral of the story: through all of these little frustrations, I am able to draw on this inner peace and use it to eradicate the frustrations and turn them around and incorporate them in my meditation and ultimately use them as something I can use to fuel my peace.

It also helps with my mental illnesses, by giving me a purpose; something that I can believe in that will ultimately help me grow. I know I will always be sick from these illnesses, because they are chronic diseases. But whatever I can use to cope with situations and issues that these diseases help create, I will utilize it. This is another coping skill added to my list. 

Another reason to live: a beautiful self-realization of how important one individual is in the cosmos.

THAT is so important.