Birthdays...

*TW: Suicide*

Five years ago today was my 17th birthday. Five years ago today I almost died. It's called rock bottom. I hit it, I hit it hard. Twelve pills and a razor blade later, I changed my mind, luckily just in time. Ever since the birthdays have been a strange thing for me. I no longer celebrate the day I was born, I celebrate the day I survived. Sometimes I run my fingers over the fading scars and remember that night in flashes. That night that I thought I had nothing left to live for, and then the brief moment I realized that I did. I will forever be grateful for the little voices I heard coming from downstairs, the little voices screaming "happy birthday, aunt Lili!" The voices of two little boys just as broken as I was. I realized I had to live for them. For the possibility of the future. And it did get better. Yes, there are days when I feel like dying all over again, but on those days, I just tick off all the reasons I have to live and I realize those will be greater than any reason I want to die.
I don't post a lot on here anymore, I have my tumblr for that. But this is for me, this is me writing down my thoughts with no worry about who may read them. To those of you who do take time to read this, do me a favor, as a birthday gift comment on this journal and tell me about something beautiful in your life. Give me, and yourself some hope.
Be strong. Be Brave. Live.