Lately I have been paying attention to my inner voice, you know, that voice that always knows what is right and what is going on but sometimes you don't like to listen to her because you don't want to hear what she has to say? Yeah, that's who I've been paying attention to lately. Astoundingly enough, she's pretty smart. She tells me things I don't want to hear somtimes, like that my best friend has been using me the entire time we've spent together, but she tells me the things I need to hear. Things that no one else has the guts or the heart to tell me.

I'm glad I started listening to her, because she lead me to one of the most amazing people I've ever met. :)

<3Nico

Knowledge can be taught in school. The cold hard facts. Not always pretty, and not always helpful, but it is usually the presentation of what is believed to be the truth.

Wisdom is something much deeper. Wisdom has to be learned from experience and growing. This is not to say that only older people are wise. I know several people younger than myself who are much wiser.

<3 Nico

I took another huge step today towards healing. I've been struggling lately with my endeavor to beat self injury, more than usual. I don't know what triggered this struggle, but I have realized that I don't need to face this thing alone. I looked around me and saw that I have people that depend on me. I have patients in the hospital where I work that need someone to be a beacon of light in their time of need. I have a wonderful family who needs to know that I am okay. I have some close friends who would do anything for me.

While none of these people (with the exception of one friend) know anything about my battle with SI, I saw them and found the strength I needed to talk to my doctor. I sat there so nervous in the doctor's office, waiting for him to come see me. I could barely sit still. Part of me wanted to make a mad dash out of the room and part of me told myself that I would feel better if I stayed. I'm so glad I listened to the voice that told me to stay, because I feel like a great weight has been lifted from me. I told him how I was feeling and how I was having so much trouble doing daily things. I didn't tell him about the SI, but I didn't have to. He was so understanding and so open to listening. He told me to continue seeking counselling at my college and he put me on some medicine to help me get through this.

If anyone is having this problem, please go to your doctor. It's scary, I'm not going to lie, but I wish I had done this 5 years ago when I started having problems. I feel so much better. I feel like I am getting a chance at rebuilding again. A new door has opened for me and it can open for you too!

Much loves and hugs,

<3Nico

Art is our way of holding on to that which makes us human. A guide to our inner sould. No matter the medium (I myself choose photography, the art of the written word, and music) art is the window into our mind. Each masterpiece is a glimpse of what the artist has inside, what he or she is thinking, dreaming, or wishing.

Art has brough color to my world. As I grow as an artist, I learn more and more about myself. It astounds me that something so intimately personal can be shared and bring about so many different emotions from those who view or listen to it. I think that art is one of the most important things in my life. Without it, I doubt if I would be able to hold on to my sanity. Every frustration, every emotion, every whim is expressed through my art.

I feel privelaged that people let me see their works of art. It is like getting to know the real person, rather than just the face that the rest of the world is seeing. It is so wonderful, and I think that if we continue to share in each others art, we can learn to grow and accept each other wholly.

What a wonderful topic! Just reflecting on it makes me feel so emotional : )

<3Nico

I've been working hard on my life. Restructuring it so that it is a happy place to be. It hasn't been easy to say the least. Organizing my life has forced me to get rid of someone that I love very much, but who just wasn't good for me. After two years of being at his side, I walked away from Shawn, and it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. For the first couple weeks I was a wreck beyond recognition. Pathetic, laying on the couch crying all day.

Since removing his negativity from my life, however, I am now able to see some things that I could not see before. He was pulling me down into the deep waters, and holding me there until I was on the brink of breaking down, because this was where he wanted me. He liked watching me struggle. He enjoyed making me cry. What kind of life could I ever have had with him? How could I ever work to improve myself if my efforts were going to be undermined by his abuse? I still love him, I'm sure I always will in some way, but I could never allow myself to get better if I was still under attack.

Quitting self-injury is an ongoing process, one that is taking less and less effort over time. There are still some nights when I am gripped with the unshakable urge to, but as I delve deeper into myself I am learning ways to get through those attacks. I am still not there yet, I don't think I will be for a long time, but there is change and it is like the first light of dawn for me.

I have self-injured for as long as I can remember: from hitting to hair pulling to all out cutting. Experts say that self-injury is a way for people to cope when they do not know how to handle the intense emotions that they feel. Others say that people become addicted to the endorphins they feel when they are injured.

I'm here to tell you, that what the experts say doesn't even begin to sum it up. "Intense emotions" is the understatement of a lifetime. There are times when I lay in bed thinking that I am crazy, dwelling on the things that are making me feel miserable. The pressure, the need, to cut feels like a panic attack (which it can turn into sometimes). It gets hard to breathe, hard to think. My brain tells me that the only way to end this torture, this panicked horrible helpless feeling, is to cut.

It's hard not to give in when I know that it will take only a few minutes to feel completely normal again, but I also know that if I do cut, I will feel guilty. I am ashamed of myself for giving in. I am scared that someone will find out. I am terrified that next time I'll cut too deep. Even with all of those feelings though, I do feel better. It's a strange kind of bittersweet release, but I am free from the panic and the racing thoughts and the feeling that the world is closing in.

On Wednesday I meet with the counselor at my college. This will be the second time that I've reached out for help with this. The first time I told my doctor that I thought I was depressed (HA!) and she gave me antidepressents. These made me sick, dizzy to the point of passing out which was not good when I was working since I worked at a store and was on a ladder for 90% of my shift. I told her that the pills were making me sick, and she got defensive, saying that I had vertigo or an inner ear infection or something. I quit taking the pills after that and the dizziness went away. I haven't taken them since and it's been about three years now.

Probably quitting taking those pills was a bad thing to do. That's probably why I get panic attacks in the middle of the night and why the world closes in around me. That is probably why my upper arm looks like it's covered in a spider-web of white scars.

I am trying again, because I scare myself now. I am reaching out to someone who can hopefully help me. I want to quit this...to gain control back of my life. I need to, or I'm going to end of slipping up. Once is all it takes. I don't want to die. Not yet.

<3 Nicole