As I turned from page to page through my journal dated in 2010 my eyes welled up with tears.

I promised myself I would never look at any of my journal entries from throughout the past six years unless I was totally ready, and finally, I felt like I truly was.

I was so astonished; I laid in bed and cried all night long.

I have thought about publishing this blog post for the last month, but I guess I felt a little ashamed.

This is because about a month and a half ago my dad asked me , “who are you truly doing all this for? All the counseling, reading, and medication. Yourself or others?”

I felt my throat begin to swell up and my eyes shifted towards the floor because there was no doubt in my mind what the answer was.

I know I had been doing things for others instead of myself.

I had been doing things because I wanted people to accept me.

Maybe I am the only one to admit it…even though we all do.

I have a fear of being left, boring, aggravating, and forgotten.

I have loved being diagnosed this past year because it has given me so many answers, but it has also given me so many insecurities.

In order to get anywhere with the issues that actually hurt our inner being…there will always be an uphill battle.

As I have talked about in my previous blog posts, this past year has been very hard on my pride and me.

If I had any pride what so ever it has definitely been stripped of me.

I have heard criticism and I have applied it.

I have read books about my issues and I have absorbed them.

I have been given medication, and I have cooperated.

I go to counseling weekly and I am given life skills to better myself, consistently.

And I have decided I am tired of being judged by others, myself, and society.

I could not be more ready to move on to the accepting stage of my diagnosis.

I am ready to own who I am.

To no longer hate the face in the mirror, the heart that I hold, and the mind that is stuck within my far too small brain.

That’s exactly how it feels. Like I have a mind the size of Texas with only enough space for something as small as Rhode Island.

There is no where for my mind to go.

Its trapped within my brain which is trapped within my skull.

Which is trapped within my skin.

It is never ending. I will never get away from whom I am.

That night of reading my journals from middle school up until the end of my senior year of high school was full of tears of regret, but also of victory.

I have come so far.

I am proud of myself.

To anybody else this night may have sounded extremely sad and strange, but to me it was such a statement to myself.

With every single page turn I read about how deep and dark my depression was even in the seventh grade.

How it boiled within my soul until it finally erupted and left me as nothing but what I believed to be useless trash.

But these journal entries brought me comfort.

People will always throw labels, stereotypes, and whatever other hateful things they can at you, but I do not care about trying to make every single person like me any longer.

Because when I read those journals, I saw how far I have come, and that is all that matters.

I want to be in the “acceptance stage” of my grieving process from my diagnosis and I am going to be.

I am done feeling angry.

I am going to use my mental health issues which can be debilitating and actually show people they CAN be the exact opposite.

I am going to use my excessive amounts of energy to converse with as many people as possible everyday and remind them how beautiful they are.

I want to be going 100 miles an hour and then sink down to o, and instead of being so embarrassed and upset with myself, acknowledge it.

I cannot suffocate who I am, and I will not.

I have spent too much time trying to figure out how I can still be normal and how I can still keep everything perfect all the time and that is impossible.

All I can do is take care of me, and that is what I am going to do.

I am putting up this blog post because sometimes you just need to recognize yourself and your achievements.

Everyone needs recognition, and sometimes that is the thing that keeps us pushing.

So if you have not recognized and appreciated yourself lately, go take yourself out for coffee, sit outside and enjoy the fresh air, and congratulate yourself for still being here and pushing every day, because everyday is another uphill battle, and you are winning.