My Birthday

So. Tomorrow, January 14th, I'm going to be 21. Another year down. I'm trying to be optimistic about it though, and see how far I've come since last year.
Let's see, last year at this time I didn't have a job, I was living with my parents, unhappily, I still wasn't over breaking up with my fiance, the boy I had dated after my fiance had just broken up with me, I didn't have any friends to name and I generally wanted to die. This year? Well, this year I'm single but over my fiance (finally). I live with my family, but I'm pretty okay with it. I don't have a job, but I have an interview tomorrow, and I tried to kill myself last month, but this month I can see all that I have to live for. And my friends, few though they may be, are amazing and amazingly helpful.

In this year I've done so much I never thought I could. I had lovely romances and adventures. I found people I thought I'd lost, and learned how not to lose them again. I started going to a counselor and actually trying to get better. I could finally talk to my family, if only a little bit, about what happened to me when I was little. I've done yoga and ballet and I've run all over town. I've lived on my own, and took care of myself. I cried and didn't apologize. I think that's my favorite, I always apologized for crying before.

So, I guess even if I'm still broke, and I still don't have a boyfriend, and I still feel kind of fat or grumpy or like I want to die some days, my therapist was right, I really have come a long way.

Now I just have to try to remember this stuff this year.