Yesterday I reached the lowest point of my life.
I got so angry that I broke my hand in a fit of rage and put a whole in the wall of my kitchen. I yelled at my boyfriend over something pointless and unnecessarily. I screamed and cried for 25 minutes.
He sat there beside me holding a bag of frozen vegetables against my hand telling me to snap out of it. My face was soaking wet from the tears and my hand was already bruised and bleeding.
My boyfriend got me dressed, dragged me out of the house, sat me in the car, and drove me to my therapy appointment.
He sat in the appointment with me explaining to my therapist exactly how bad the situation was and how much worse I have been getting. She was surprised. She saw my hand and my red, tear stained face, and the tears my boyfriend was holding back.
As I sat there listening to my therapist talk me through breathing and grounding exercises, I realized I couldn’t do this anymore.
I needed to get a grip.
She talked me through understanding the various parts of my mind. How important me being here was. And how lucky I am to have this amazing guy by my side to walk me through these horrible moments and periods of self loathing and desctruction.
Today has been the first day in years that not one single negative thought has crossed my mind. A real smile has been on my face all day. My chest no longer feels heavy.
I feel free.