These last few months have been one hell of a roller-coaster. I still suffer from depression, OCD and self harm-which is why I haven’t written in a while. For the beginning of 2016, I have made a sincere resolution to check into the blogging world as often as I can.

Still, this time last year I didn’t even think I’d be here. And that has to be something; the fact that I’m here, that I’m breathing. That I’m alive.

I look at the stars outside my window, and they form the outline of a vast and endless universe. It makes me think about how insignificant I am, and how infinitely small each of us are in the grand scheme of things. This does not scare me. Not at all; when life fucks me over, the unimportantance of a single human life reassures me.

But that alone is not what has kept me alive: hope is the saving grace that glues us together during our darkest hours, our bleakest days. Life is a process of constant change-each new sunrise brings with it a window of opportunity, and each sunset takes with it the hours that we’ll never get back.
The universe doesn’t stop.
Not ever.

There is no reason to be afraid.Β Sometimes the pain must be annulled. To be exhaled. To be let go.
Hope-I’ve found-is the one force strong enough to pull me through.
I can’t see it and I can’t be certain of it;
But I canΒ feel it.

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