The more therapy sessions I have, the more I realize that no matter what I do, there will always be some part of me that will always be this way. Even though I'll kick recovery ***, I'm not just going to hit a point where I'm completely free of what debilitated me for so long. That's not how recovery works. I learned this early on in my journey, and it was terrifying. I was scared to get better because I felt that I would lose a major part of me, of who I am. Even though they were awful parts of me, they were all I had for so many years that I couldn't imagine living without them. The idea of being someone that wasn't myself scared me.
You can have good days/weeks/months/years, but part of your old self is always going to come back. It's going to test you. Don't let it destroy you, but use it as an excuse to show yourself how much you've learned. It'll reinforce the strength you have over this. That's what recovery really is, it's learning to live with this **** and not letting it hold you back. In the end, you're always going to be the same person, just a better version. Start recovering, it feels good.

i am a
horse
on a
carousel
with four legs
built to run
but i insist
on retracing
the same
circle

I don't know how it happened exactly
All of a sudden, everything needed to stop
Somehow my trembling lips managed to form the words "help me"
And before I could blink or breathe or think
The walls were whitewashed and everything smelled like bleach and 409
A nurse was asking me all these questions
A security officer was scanning my body for sharp objects
The strings from my sweatshirt were taken in case I tried to, well you know
My vitals were taken and my parents were taken away
And I was alone. At 2:47 am.

I found my neck aching from the whiplash of 100 miles per hour to 0
From the outside world to a locked unit
Not an ounce of choice or freedom
Everything calmly regulated and managed
The only thing missing was Nurse Ratchet
No straight lines or easy conversations
All dancing around the subject of the white bandages covering my arm
Or the doll my roommate wouldn't let go of
Or the screams from phone calls home
Or the sobs of someone who said they didn't belong here
It all was a blur but the feeling of alone was sharper than any razor I had ever used
I watched from my seventh floor window as people walked along or drove away
They had no idea how lucky they were
Even those in the hospital rooms I could see were free to leave if they wished
And I was stuck. Trapped. Alone.

After two days of quiet, model behavior
They thought I was well enough to be moved
That my problems would be better solved on a different floor
One with unlocked doors and phone calls to places other than home
And it got better, only not really.
I made friends, but not really.
It's hard to relate to someone when you can't share your age or interests
Not to mention no sharing of war stories
As if we were all there just for ***** and giggles.

I wasn't the only one wrapped in white gauze and medical tape
One girl was completely held together by it
A quick slip of the sleeve told the rest of us all we needed to know
We were all damaged in some way
But all brought together by a place that didn't quite fit it's title
As if "mental hospital" fully explained all that had gone wrong
Two words weren't enough to convey how all our bodies were empty and broken from multiple rounds of bombings
How we didn't want to live but we didn't really want to die either
The in-between is the scariest part
They don't tell you that in the welcome packet.

Coming home, I felt like I had just fought a war
Only I wasn't sure who had won
Or even who I was fighting against
My body ached and my heart felt heavy
Like I had rocks inside my rib cage
And a prize fighter had looked at me and then taken his best shot
It was a total knock out
I didn't even have time to tap the mat before I was thrown back into what was the new normal
My bed didn't feel like my own anymore
My room felt like a stranger had moved in while I was gone
There wasn't room for me at home anymore
I had come home a different person than I had been when I left
There was no part of the old me that remained

I wasn't used to myself yet
Didn't recognize what I saw in the mirror
I had spent all fall staring back at a ghost
And now that I had substance, I couldn't meet my own eyes
I was scared to see all that I had avoided
I didn't want to see the rotten parts of me
But there was power in looking back, in raising my gaze
Because the battle was over, but the war had just begun
Only, I wasn't scared to fight anymore.

There are levels in the sky,
where the clouds come sliding by,
and the sun is bursting through
with rays ablaze upon our eyes

There are levels in the ground,
where the mountains hold the towns,
and tears of storms' past fury shine
in serenity they have found

There are levels in the sea,
where the days are memories,
and waves that wrestle with the shore
toss our spray into the breeze

My heart
Is a happy drunk
A little too open
A little too optimistic
It's over in the corner of the bar
Playing poker
Screaming at the top of it's lungs
I'M ALL IN
When it's never
To this day
Had a winning hand

My heart
Is a sad drunk
A little too lonely
A little too caught up in tears
It's over at the counter
Forcing the bartender to take its keys
Because it would rather not go home
Than go home alone again

My heart
Is a reckless drunk
A little too unbalanced
A little too impaired
It's over by the door
Making everyone nervous
A little too good at scaring people away
A little too far gone

Like you
A little too far gone
Turn your head
Shuffle away and pretend you don't notice
The breakdown of a heart
Too drunk on feelings
To know when to stop

Insecurity:
You'd never believe me.
I fear much:
And that includes losing touch.
Insecurity-
What is wrong with me?
I can't bear this fear,
Of being left here-
To fend for myself-
To save myself-
To be myself,
But I've lost that-
Me.
I'm so lost that my map is lost.
Of course you're my map, so that would make sense that I would be lost when you leave me.