All my life I have been waiting.  Waiting for the right time, when there would be no temptation to engage in harmful behaviors. Waiting for the therapy to start.  Waiting for the right support system. Waiting for the meds to kick in.  Waiting for the tests to prove that none of this is my fault; that I was born this way; that I am not responsible for causing it and therefore can’t be responsible for fixing it.  But the truth is this:  There is no magic.

Regardless of the circumstances that brought you to this point, nobody else can be responsible for your life, your feelings, your decisions.  And there it is again.  “Your.”  We’re talking about me here and I can’t even be accountable to myself long enough to say these are MY feelings, MY decisions, that there is no external magic that will suddenly fix all of MY harmful behavior.

*I* need to take control of *MY* life.  *I* need to decide that my life matters, that I have worth, that I am enough.  And before anything and anybody else, *I* have to love *MYSELF*.

And then I have to say this: