18 months ago, I stuck a dirty, drug-filled needle in my vein for the last time., pushed down the plunger, and let the belt slip from the grip of my teeth as I ceremoniously said goodbye to forever chasing that unattainable high...
18 months. I have come so far over the last year and a half. I may not be where I want to be, may not e financially stable, may not even feel human most days...but I have made progress. I have discovered some of my flaws, though I may never know them all. I have learned that I am not alone and there are always people who will be there for me. I have rediscovered how to be normal, or at least as normal as I will ever be.
I owe my life to a few and my sanity to many. I may have a love/hate relationship with humanity, but I am more than happy to be a part of it again. I have seen and experienced more than most my age, and that is something I have to constantly remind myself. I'm turning 22 in a few months, and while that seems old to me, it's ONLY 22. I am lucky and blessed enough to have so much time left on my biological clock.
I have time to fix my mistakes, and time to make more.
I have time to figure out what the hell I want to do with this life, and time to do it well.
I have a future that I thought I'd lose. I was given a second chance , and I think I've made pretty damn good use of it over the past 18 months. I haven't beaten this thing. No one ever does. But it won't beat me, that's for sure. I'm a survivor, and I will use my experience, strength, and hope to help others like me and honor the ones we've lost. I am overwhelmingly proud of my year and a half, and I can't wait for many more milestones to come.