What it means

Yesterday, I had my nose pierced. Yes, at 35 years old, I now have a nose stud.

Why now?

Because it marks a turning point.

The past year has damn near killed me. No exaggeration. But I think there’s some truth in the theory that you have to hit rock bottom to be able to start coming back up again. And that’s what has been happening over the last few weeks.

The first month after my overdose, I was broken. Just in pieces.

The second month, I was wobbly, but feeling a lot more normal.

Now, the three-month anniversary is approaching, and I have been doing really, really well. Better than I have for years, to be honest.

Then there was a setback. A few days where I found myself feeling anxious, low, out of control again. Followed by my parents finding out what has been going on for me over the last 12 months – something I had tried so hard to keep hidden from them. The morning after, Sunday, at church, I felt like I’d taken about 365 steps back to where I was this time last year. Sitting on the floor in the resources room, supposedly watching the children, but actually lacking the energy to stand, the strength to make small talk, all of it.

It was frightening. Really frightening. That feeling of desperation, after a period of feeling like I had turned a corner, seen the light. I did not want to be going back there, but I was so scared that I was.

But – I have turned it around. Not through any of my own strength or effort, but I’ve gone from thinking, ‘Well, I’ve let everyone down; what else is there but suicide?’ on Sunday evening, to having a conversation with my baby girl about how I don’t intend to die until she’s really, really old within the space of a few days.

I really didn’t want my mum to know what has happened to me. I am still finding it very awkward to know how to handle it. My whole identity has always been built around being the strong one, the capable one, the organised one, the level-headed one, and it’s very hard to have to admit that none of that is true. It makes me feel like a huge let-down.

But in other ways, it has been liberating.

It has made me realise that I’m a grown woman, my own person, with my own free will and thought processes and hopes and dreams.

I had my nose pierced because it’s something that I always wanted to do, but have always put off doing because I was afraid of upsetting the people I love or making them disapprove of me.

I had my nose pierced because it’s a sign that I am finding confidence in myself to make my own decisions and live by them.

I had my nose pierced because I want to be true to who I am.

I had my nose pierced because I can see a future.

It’s not going to be straightforward. There are going to be ups and downs. I know that depression, like cancer, goes into remission but is never cured.

One of the biggest hurdles with my nose piercing is that it is unbiblical. Leviticus says that any piercing or marking of the body is sinful. And while I have done plenty of that recently, there seems a difference between doing something to myself because I’m ill and doing something to myself because I just really want to.

But – you know – I think God understands. I think God gets that my nose piercing is not an emblem of vanity or an attempt to deface what He has created in his image. I think he gets its significance in my recovery, and He’ll forgive me for it.

This is the point at which I am saying, ‘Yes, I have a lot to live for, and I am going to live it with confidence and self-belief.’

This is my turning point.