Memories of our lives, of our works and our deeds will continue in others ROSA PARKS 94 | September <strong>2021</strong> | <strong>happiful</strong>.com Photography | Alexandre Debiève
true story Content warning: this piece include details of self-harm The light after the darkness Victoria struggled with self-harm and an eating disorder for years. But with the help of a strong support system, she learned to live alongside her depression, and a new hobby ignited a sense of hope for the future Writing | Victoria Hennison I will never forget the very first time I selfharmed. I was 13, and I needed an outlet, a way to set the torment in my mind free. Somewhere in the darkest part of my mind, it made sense that allowing the blood to flow would make me feel better – and it did, but as I stared at the droplets of blood, I felt trapped, as though I had just created a prison for myself. In some ways, the self-harm had a voice. It was comforting because it seemed to understand, but it fed off the lies the depression told me, and I felt overwhelmingly worthless. My mind filled with questions of: ‘Who am I?’, ‘Why am I alive’, ‘Why would anyone love me?’ I struggled for years. Self-harming became the coping mechanism that got me through the days. It was controlled, and I felt it was the one thing I had power over. In 2003, I decided that my body image was the reason I was depressed, the reason my life was going nowhere. I had just turned 21, and I thought that if I could look amazing, then I would be a success, and then I would be happy. It started off as healthy changes – good, fresh food and exercise. The number on the scales went down – it was an amazing feeling – and, in my head, the bigger the loss the greater the good feeling, so I went a day or two without eating and pushed myself harder. Initially, I saw changes in the mirror and I was feeling good, but then my view changed. No matter how low the scales went, no matter how little I ate, I was repulsed by my own reflection. When I started hiding food, pretending I’d eaten it, and struggled to even take a bite of an apple, I realised it had become something far more sinister. I wasn’t in control anymore; the darkness had introduced me to a new ally, but it wasn’t my friend. I was miserable, but then the world gave me a lifeline. It was 2004, and I found love and acceptance. It wasn’t an easy road; I refused to need someone, but somehow, no matter how hard I pushed him away, he pushed back, harder. Little by little, he broke down my walls, and as each piece was dismantled I found myself again. The insecurities fell away, and he gave me my fight back. It wasn’t anything he did, he was just there loving me for me, making me feel beautiful. It was the support, having a rock I could lean on, someone who would catch me if I fell while telling me I could fly. >>> <strong>happiful</strong>.com | September <strong>2021</strong> | 95