Two years ago, on February 14, one of my cousins killed himself.
Two years ago, on February 15, I decided not to.
It's so strange to think back on it now. I still remember those two days very clearly. The phone calls. The crying. My own terror at being a failure. The realization of how much pain I would cause my mother if I were to commit suicide. Above all, my own resolution that I could not hurt someone I loved, no matter how much I was hurting. I am very, very grateful for that lesson, though it came at a terrible price.
Another anniversary is coming up in a few months. On May 12, it will be one year since the last time I deliberately injured myself--a major victory, since that hasn't happened since I was in about 10th grade. I plan to celebrate.
So why am I posting this? I'm not sure... lots of things on my mind recently. February is a difficult month for a lot of people, myself included. Maybe it's just a reminder to myself that things could be worse.
And now, since it's getting close to 2 AM, I think it's about time for me to go to sleep.