#as a good job you passed training/ graduated/ survived a very traumatic event

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: *sigh*....... .......

Ikkan: nervous?

Neta:......a little bit yeah.....

Ikkan: *hehehe*...... Don't be nervous, you have nothing to be nervous about I'll be right here.... And after this I'll be here forever

Neta: till death do us part

Ikkan: till death do us part...(Peck).... Fix your tie....and ..... perfect.....now.......let's get married

[wedding music]

officiant: Good evening everyone, friends family we are guided here today to celebrate life's greatest moments and to cherish the words which shall unite Neta Verns

Neta: *smiling*.....*sniff*.......hehe

Officiant: and Ikkan Kane

Ikkan: *smiling*.....*sigh*.....

Officiant: you would like to exchange your vows

Neta: I'd like to go..............*sigh*...... ikkan.... I always look back and remember the first time we first met.

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: you were very standoffish and quiet heh You're also a little bit mean just a little bit

Ikkan: heheh

Neta: If something told me that that really wasn't you. I'm so happy My hunch was right. Ikkan You're kind, You're soft-spoken, you're so patient ....*crying*... I'm sorry........ Getting to see you everyday. Your smile, hearing your laugh and listening to you speak ....*sniff*...about your interest. Your passionate rants about Arpeggio and crescendo I still don't know what that means but I love hearing you say it....

Ikkan: ehhehehehe

Neta: that's the smile I like to see.... I love you Ikkan you're my best friend and I am truly grateful I'm going to live the rest of my life with you I-

[Alright he's been in there long enough. Pull him up]

Neta: what!?......... what!?..... what's happening!!....*cough*.....….*cough*.....what the fuck!!... what's going on?!

Octoling Superior: alright Verns you've been in the pit long enough. Time to get back to training. All chargers are outside doing target practice. Take your weapon and go out with the rest of them.

Neta: what?

Octoling Superior: go outside and do tragic practice. Your punishment is over go

Neta: but-but-but I was getting married! *huff* Where's my husband?! My store?! I had a store and my family.....*huff*..*huff*.... Cirrina......my daughter ......what happened to my crab cakes?!!.*huff*.......

Octoling soldier: *hehe* what's he talking about?

Octoling Superior: I've heard if you stay in the ink pit long enough without interaction the brain starts to hallucinate and starts making things up......to keep it self sane. He'll be fine.

Neta:*huff*huff**huff**sobbing**huff**huff**huff**huffhuffhuffhufff......AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaah-HA!!.. what?…..huh?..................*huff*.........................*huff*...................*huff*............*huff*.........*huff*.......*huff*........ where is it? Where is it?... here.....*huff*...[squeeze]

Plushie recording: Hi! Demersal the grounding fish! I'm going to ask a few questions ok?... can you name 3 you can see?

Neta:... my dresser......*huff*...my bed....my bass

Recording:.............good job!.....can you tell 3 things you can feel?

Neta:...my bed sheets....my clothes....*huff*....cold floor.....

Recording:..........okay!!....can you tell me where you are?

Neta:......*sigh*....my apartment

Recording:...............good job! Do you know what time it is? The short hand is the hour and the long hand is the minute!

Neta: I know that.... it's...6:47a.m.

Recording:.............. wow! Now can tell me about yourself how old are you!

Neta: ......................35.......

Recording: .........wow! wow!you're so big!

Neta: fuckyou

Recording:what's your name?

Neta: Neta

Recording:.........that's a nice name! We're almost done let's count back to 10 together! Ready?!10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1

Neta 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1......uggghh

Recording: you're doing so well let's take a deep breath ok? Breath in.....

Neta: [inhale]

Recording: now Breath out

Neta: [exhale]

Recording: you are safe.... I'm so proud of you! It's ok to feel overwhelmed sometimes. I know it can be really hard.. just Remember your grounding technique and don't forget to self-sooth!...stay safe hehe bye bye

Neta: you're lucky Behi gifted you to me...if it wasn't for him you would've been sold decades ago.........[chuck] ..............[inhale] [exhale]................ nibbles come here......Did I scare you off the bed?....*kiss*.. . I'm sorry..............hm?...

Mahi:*sleeping*....

Neta: heheh...*huff*...fish still here?.......heh makes sense...

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *yawn*..........ummm....uggg....... Neta you need to get a better couch this one sucks.....oh....

Neta: no.... I don't want you to come home... Not for something as dumb as a nightmare ..hehe....I'm fine.I know..i know I know babe I get that... You shouldn't have to drop everything for me..... I know you don't mind it but I do.... I hate that.... yeah I understand........ yeah........ yeah............................. You're right.......................*sigh*....no......I still don't want you to come home..... Can you at least stay on the phone with me for a while?....... Pancakes... I think I buried some hehehehe.....*sigh*... No.... it looks fine. A little dark in the middle..... It should be fine... You cook better than I do..... What are you doing?..... Why are you milking them by hand I thought you had a machine for that........ Oh she's scared of it? awwww poor manatee......... An hour? it takes an hour to get a full bucket of milk?....... Okay that's fair. They are big...I-(gasp).... Mahi!..[inhale exhale]........ How long have you been sitting there

Mahi: couple minutes..... Can I have a pancake

Neta:. .................... Yeah, I'm fine. No, it's just my employee, yeah fish still here......... I'll call you when I get to work..... I love you too...bye................... How many pancakes do you want?

_______________________________________________

Mahi: *eating*......

Neta:*eating*.......

Mahi: *eating*.... pancakes are good

Neta: *eating* thank you

Mahi: how do to make them shape like little octopuses

Neta:...Cirrina bought cookie cutter sets years ago. sometimes use them for molds for pancakes..... I use it for eggs too...*sniff*...........*sigh*............ I have to get ready for work.....[stretch].......[POP]...mmmmm......fuck not today knee...ssssss

Mahi:...*eating*....you know you really should try investing in a knee brace I think my friend has a couple of them I can see if she can give you one

Neta: that's nice........

Mahi: so I know you have to go to work and everything in a couple minutes. Would it be too much to ask to drive me to campus I got to go to the library and do some studying

Neta: Alright..... We'll leave 15 minutes... Do you have clothes to get dressed in?

Mahi: no

Neta: we can just find something in the drawer.....

Mahi: can I borrow these jeans?

Neta: Yeah sure. I don't think they don't fit you tho

Mahi: they fit me just fine I just need to cut the pants legs

Neta: *sigh*. . You know you might as well just take the rest of my old clothes. I'm never going to fit em again anyway

Mahi: really?

Neta: yeah really I insist I really don't care. You can have them

Mahi: are you sure?....

Neta: you know what I'll just give them to my daughter she doesn't listen to 'Cyrus in the cyclones' but I think she'll like the Cool vintage look of it

Mahi: no gimme! Don't give it to her! She'll just ruin it and turn it into a jagged uneven crop top! _______________________________________________

Ikkan: I finished milking tulip

Koi-koi: That's good hun. We'll have it pasteurized tomorrow. Just keep it in the fridge in the shed

Ikkan: alright

Cirrina: I'm going out..

Koi-koi: and where do you think you're going?

Cirrina: I need to go into the city The ferry leaves in an hour

Koi-koi: I don't think so. You haven't finished your chores you were supposed to refill the Manatee feed today and You're supposed to mix up the compost in the back.

Cirrina: I know I'll get to when I get back

Koi-koi: noooo... You will do it now. Young lady, I'm not like your father or your grandfather when I say do something you do it now. You can take the next ferry

Cirrina: but I-

Koi-koi: no buts young lady

Cirrina: I'm meeting someone

Koi-koi: meeting who Exactly?

Cirrina:.............a friend

Koi-koi: ....a friend? What friend?

Cirrina: (blush)......he's a boy

Koi-koi: a boy?.....

Cirrina: ... yeah....

Koi-koi: where is he taking you?

Cirrina: a museum, around town

Koi-ko:........ A museum?........................................,........ Be home by 9:00......... Here get yourself some food maybe a souvenir.

Cirrina: you're cool grandma....

Koi-koi: uh-huh whatever...... When you get home you'll do the chores that you were supposed to do and..... You wash the dishes

Cirrina: alright

_______________________________________________

Baja: did you see the commercial mom?

Baja's mom: I saw the commercial... I am so proud of you sweetheart You're going to be on TV how exciting

Baja: I know ... I still can't believe it

Baja's mom: this is going to open up so many opportunities. The benefits will be nice. You have a nice paycheck and a lot of money, make sure you save some of it. You're going to make so many new friends!!

Baja: yeah hehe I hope I do...

Baja's mom: I know you have problems making friends.

Baja: mmmmm

Baja's mom: You're a sweet boy you really are

Baja: thank mom

Baja mom: you know this might be the perfect time for you to find someone

Baja: fine who?

Baja's mom: A partner! Ohhhhhh I'm so happy for you honey. You can go on dates. You can meet new people. You'll be married in no time?

Baja: uhhhhh I guess....... I'm going to be really honest Mom. I don't really think I want to do that right now

Baja's mom: Well I don't want to rush you but it's good to start... You know your brother is already married and your sister is on her fifth kid...

Baja: Mom

Hine (Baja's mom): I know. I know I shouldn't compare my kids but let me just finish. Your siblings are no older than you and they've already have their lives set up and I don't want you to fall behind

Baja:Mom, I'm not falling behind. I-I just...ugh....... I'm just....... I'm just not good at dating and seeing people

Hine: What on Earth do you mean baby?! you're not good at dating? Honey, you're the most talkative and social person in the family! How could you think you're not good at dating? You're a real catch

Baja:.........

Hine: What about that fella you told me about? I looked him up, I didn't really like the images I saw .. what about him? I thought you liked him?

Baja: We broke up

Hine: you broke up?....*sigh*...... So you're single?........ So what are you just......... Are you just sleeping around?

Baja: (blush)..NO! I'M NOT

Hine:Sweetie, don't be embarrassed. A lot of young adults have casual sex ...I'm just saying you know eventually you need to settle down and-

Baja:I'm not.. I'm not..... I'm not having sex. I never had it

Hine:....…Well that's ok. Personally I waited to get married to-

Sibling: HA! VIRGIN!

Hine: Maui! What did I tell you about eavesdropping! Go!.............*sigh*....... Sweetheart..... I don't want to put pressure on you sweetie...... I just don't want you to be alone we're not good when we're alone... I want you to have a family

Baja: I'm not alone. I have a family. I have you and my siblings..........and Desmond I guess

Hine: we can't live forever honey you're going to need to find someone eventually.

Baja:................... alright..... I'll try to find someone...

Hine: I know you'll find someone there's someone out there for everyone including you sweetie....

Baja: ........ yeah.....l love you.... bye

Hine: I love you too

Baja:.....................danm

Hitch: we're filming in 15!

_______________________________________________

Bayou: this painting is a. Self-portrait of Joyce Veair she was our firat prime minister

Cirrina: wow... she's gorgeous she painted this herself

Bayou: Yes... She has so many paintings around the world. She even has one in Museum d'Alfonsino

Cirrina: really...... She's very talented.

Bayou: not only that, she was very intelligent and very outspoken....

Cirrina: what's this one

Bayou: this is a sculpture made entirely out of urchin spines it was made by tosh monui. Every month he'd shed his old spines. He would collect them and Stick them in a ball of wax until the ball was completely covered in spineies. After he'd take the rest to make a body, he would call them mace men because they look like maces with a body. He soon started to model them after cave drawings of primitive urchin

Cirrina: that's amazing....oh what's this one. This one is beautiful

Bayou: this one is called 'home'

Cirrina: it's a beautiful landscape....who is by?....... This piece was painted by One of the top students in krillarney School of arts and it's one of the youngest to be presented in This museum she has won several awards and has several nominations. We are privileged to have her in a museum This piece is called home by Bayou Ster..............wow same name as you

Bayou:.........ehehehehehe Cirrina. That's me this is my work.

Cirrina: oh..hehehe I'm stupid........ It's really nice. You're really talented....

Bayou: thank you.... This is one of my favorite paintings I used an old picture of my nan's old home.

Cirrina: I love the texture and the hills and trees. It's even in the river.... Do you have more paintings here?

Bayou: I have this big painting over here. This one took me a whole month to finish this one..... I rode the fairy everyday just to get the perfect reference for crashing waves

Cirrina: wow .. . it's amazing

Bayou: it's almost 6 do you want to get something to eat. We can go to Mrs Cuddles to get some fried cod and hush puppies

Mrs Cuddles: Harold, bring these pines to table 7!...

Bayou: hi Mrs Cuddles!

Mrs Cuddles: Bayou how are you darling, Cirrina! Ohhhh... You two hungry? Let me get you something Harold, drop two more cod in the fryer!!..... You to relax. I'll get you ladies some sodas while you wait

Bayou: thank you!

Cirrina: thanks............................................. So you're probably going to think I'm really dumb but for the past 3 days I thought you were a guy

Bayou:.............hehehehe Did you?.must be the tentacle cut huh?

Cirrina: hehehe... yeah...hehehe... I'm sorry.....

Bayou: If I'm being real here I don't identify with anything in particular...if you see me as a guy I don't mind it

Cirrina: if you don't identify as that I don't want to

Bayou: I see myself as everything and nothing, masculine and feminine and anything in-between. I really don't mind Cirrina

Cirrina: All right if you put it that way hehehe

Mrs Cuddles: here you go! Fresh cod and a large bag of hush puppies for the road!

Cirrina: thanks how much do I owe you?

Mrs Cuddles: nonsense it's on the house. Kiddies eat for free here. Once you reach the age to drink you have to pay

Cirrina: thanks Mrs Cuddles!....

_______________________________________________

Neta: *humming*...(Pat)..*humming*....(Pat)......

Ona:.........

Candi: *snoring*........*snoring*.......

Tv

Baja:What is music at midnight? Well as the names in the title says we're going to be talking about music and it's going to be airing during midnight.

Announcer: music at midnight a new late night talk show! Premieres tonight only on O.E.T!

Neta:.....*sigh*....... ikkan would love this show. .........me and him cuddling watching TV at midnight. Under a blanket surrounded by pillows...................... I miss him....

Ona: [baby noises]

Neta: yeah? You would like the show too Ona?

Bowie: what are you watching?

Neta: Bowie go back to bed. It's past your bedtime, go back upstairs with your mom

Bowie: but she snores too loud!

Neta: Bowie.. .... okay

Bowie: what's in this room?

Neta: noooo that's my daughter's room you can't go in there....let's sit down on the couch..... come on........(click).....why don't we watch 'Ollie? ...you like Ollie

Bowie: alright

Tv

[Music]........Mom!..[music].......Dad!.........[music].......Leo!......[music]...........OLLIE!

Bowie: hehe

Neta: you need to lay down. try to get some sleep before your dad picks you up. You start preschool soon, you need a proper sleep schedule.

Bowie: okay

Ona: [fussy baby noises]

Neta: you need to sleep too young lady ......

Ona [crying]

Neta: someone is hungry..... Come on baby girl. Let's get you something to eat and fresh dia-(gasp).....*sigh*..... I need to put a bell on you

Mahi: I need to finish my homework I won't be annoying I promise.

Neta: where's Baja should he be at home with you?

Mahi: He's at work... They're doing a test stream or something or whatever

Ona: [crying]

Neta:.......*sigh*... Alright ........ I have some left overs in the fridge if you want anything.... Can you watch Bowie? Just make sure he's sleeping or watching TV as long as he's quiet.....

Mahi: ......(typing) alright

Neta: come on Ona....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: ..... that was pretty good

Bayou: Yes I go there every other Sunday....

Cirrina: I leave on Sunday.... Maybe I can get another one before I leave....... Is that a music store?

Bayou: The old music store? Ye.....you play an instrument?

Cirrina: I play the cello .... It's nothing impressive really..... Second chair trying to get first chair in high school

Bayou: wow I'd like to see you play

Cirrina: no...nooo I-I couldn't .... You were going to take me to the cafe

Bayou: come on... Let's go inside....... We have plenty of time

Cirrina: ehhhhhh ok..... ...

Bayou: excuse me do you have a Cello we can try out?

Employees: sure.....hol up...let meh jest.......unlock.....here ya are..... .

Bayou: here you go Cirrina

Cirrina: [playing Bach: Cello Suite No. 1]

Bayou: [clap]...[clap] ...wow brains and beauty

Cirrina: (blush)..........you don't mean that

Bayou: I do .... You really talented

Cirrina: hehehe.............

Bayou:................

Cirrina: It's getting dark. I need to go home.

Bayou: Yeah why don't I take you to the cafe and get something to go and I can walk you to the ferry....{takes hand}

Cirrina: I'd like that.

_______________________________________________

Candi: mmmmmmm.....*yawn*........*huff*........(Squeak).....hm?

Plushie

Recording: I believe in you and your strength to keep fighting

Candi: Demersal?....... Do they still give these out?.....(Squeeze)

Recording: sometimes bad things happen and they're out of our control. It wasn't your fault

Candi: Cod I hated this thing ........ alright where are my kids? .... I'm well rested and ready to go........hey Neta..(toss)...

Neta:...ow......... hey........(Pat).......(Pat)......(Pat)

Bowie: *sleeping*..........

Candi: thanks for watching the kids. Donn had to go back to work today...*yawn*...... just needed a break..

Neta: no problem

Candi: how's Ona doing?

Ona:*sleeping*.......

Neta: she's fine......

Candi: .. That's good.. .... why do you still have this thing?

Neta: it was a gift... I got it when I was a kid...I just can't give it away

Candi:............

Neta: What! Ok what did you do with yours?

Candi: I ripped out the voice box and gave it to Bowie. He then threw up on it so I threw it away. Kids...

Neta: yeah... I had an old blanket I used to wrap her in. One blowout later and it was in the trash

Candi: hehehehe... Don't you just love being a parent sometimes?

Neta: heheheh.... Don't tell her I told you that she would kill me.. hehehdhe

Mahi:.......guys

Candi: hi mahi..........

Mahi: hey

Candi: ....... Donn's outside I got to get going.... Neta do you mind?

Neta: *scooping up Bowie*....yeeep let's go.....

_______________________________________________

Cirrina: I really enjoyed this.. I had fun.

Bayou: I had fun too Cirrina. I really like you

Cirrina: I like you too ..........................

Bayou:...............

Cirrina:...........

Bayou:..........*leaning in*............[kiss].....

Cirrina: [kiss]........ Hehehe

Bayou: hehehehehe

Cirrina: (blush)..... I- I need to go....uh

Bayou: I'll text you.......[peck]

Cirrina: bye......

_______________________________________________

Neta: alright!! Drive safe!!!!.....*sigh*......... mahi go home.

Mahi: I just got here! And I'm not being annoying. Please can I stay just one more night please

Neta: No, I didn't sleep well last night and I just had to babysit two kids. Let me have my peace. You've been staying here for a week. You practically live here. I need to clean up, I need to do the dishes and vacuum the floor, laundry .. I need to clean out nibbles's box. I need to make this place look like I wasn't wallowing in my own loneliness. All right

Mahi: you can do that when I'm here. It's not going to bother you

Neta: mahi goooooo home.....

Mahi: please can I say one more night please? I won't complain about the couch

Neta: no..... good bye

Mahi: but my apartment is quiet. You complain about wallowing in your loneliness. What about me you don't think I'm wallowing

Neta: get a pet or something ... (SLAM)

Mahi: (bang).....(bang)...... Where do I get a pet

Neta:AAAAAAAAAHHHH........*sigh*.. . . You can stay. This is your last night here. Tomorrow I will take you to the pet store after work pick out whatever you want and leave me alone..

Mahi: thanks Neta!

_______________________________________________

@fish-at-fish-fish-resort mahi go home

[zak-bagans-gac-imagines]

Return To Hogwarts - Chapter One

Lizzie had been doing paranormal investigations with the Ghost Adventures crew for sixth months. Recently she decided to leave the Men of Letters Bunker, and her two friends, Sam and Dean, and travel with Zak Bagans and the crew instead. 

Lizzie was also in a committed yet private relationship with Zak. The only ones who knew they were together were Aaron, Billy, and Jay, their fellow investigators, and Lizzie had recently moved in with Zak. 

One day, Lizzie was sitting on the couch, reading a book, Zak’s border collie Gracie was lying next to her, as Lizzie held her book in one hand and was scratching Gracie’s ear with the other. A moment later Zak came in, carrying an armful of mail. 

“Hey, babe,” said Lizzie, as Zak walked over and kissed her. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, rifling through the mail.

A moment later, Zak handed Lizzie an envelope addressed in green ink, and sealed with purple wax. “Um, here’s something for you, it looks like it’s from Hogwarts,” 

Lizzie’s face darkened. Ever since she was raped at the tender age of sixteen, the school had done nothing to help her, and spend an ungodly amount of time protecting her attacker rather than her. 

Zak knew that his girlfriend had been assaulted, but he only knew a very minute amount of information, short of re-traumatizing his new girlfriend.

“Burn it,” said Lizzie bitterly. “It’s marked ‘urgent’” said Zak. 

Lizzie sighed as she stopped scratching Gracie’s ear and took the envelope. Gracie whined as she lifted her head as Lizzie tore the envelope and unfolded the parchment. 

Dear Miss Blaszczak

I wasn’t certain who to inform, but after hearing that you were traveling with the Ghost Adventures Crew and remembering your history with them, I knew I had to send you this. 

As I am sure you are aware, during the Battle of Hogwarts that eventually led to the fall of Lord Voldemort, there were tragically a large number of casualties. Not long after the renovation of the castle was completed, many students in all four Houses, and ages have reported paranormal activity around the castle. Everything from phantom footsteps to voices, to apparitions, people getting touched - you name it. 

In addition to the renovation itself, we have made changes to accommodate Muggle technology. You will be able to use your cameras and digital devices without any issues. We have also recently added Wifi. 

We also have created our own social network for students. I will give you the IP address should you need it for your investigation

Many students are terrified while others are intrigued. It would be very appreciated if you and the Crew could return to Hogwarts for a second investigation, and perhaps do a guest lecture. 

Please return this letter at your earliest convenience 

Yours Sincerely, 

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

Lizzie stared at the letter for a very long moment. “Everything okay?” Asked Zak. Lizzie handed Zak the letter. “Oh,” he said, reading it. “She - wants me to return to Hogwarts,” said Lizzie. “And you don’t want to?” Asked Zak

“I don’t know,” said Lizzie. “This is about what Cormac did isn’t it?” Asked Zak. Lizzie said nothing, but nodded. 

Zak reached over and gently held Lizzie’s hand in his own and kissed it tenderly. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I understand your resentment towards the school, but wouldn’t it be possible for you to put your emotions aside?” Lizzie said nothing. 

The prospect of putting the trauma of being raped by a fellow student, and the school failing to protect her, behind her, was a very daunting and emotionally difficult thing for Zak to ask of her. 

“Think of it like this,” said Zak. “Maybe Professor McGonagall is feeling guilty over not protecting you, and by asking you to come back, she’s asking for you to forgive her?” “I - I’d never thought of it like that,” said Lizzie. “Mm-hmm,” said Zak. 

There was a very long moment of silence between the two paranormal investigators, only the sound of Gracie whining every now and then could be heard. After what seemed like forever, Lizzie finally sighed heavily, stood up from the couch and began to walk out of the room

“Where are you going?” Asked Zak. “To go pack my trunk,” said Lizzie. “Better call Aaron, Billy and Jay, tell them what’s up.” Zak nodded as Lizzie left the room.

Lizzie ascended the stairs of the house that she had moved into less than a year previously. Despite knowing Zak ever since she was sixteen - still a student at Hogwarts - they had maintained nothing more than a strong friendship for close to eleven years. 

When Lizzie first met Zak she was in her sixth year at Hogwarts, thinking about how she was going to pass her N.E.W.Ts (or Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), and looking forward to graduation. She had plans to attend college after leaving Hogwarts. By this point in her magical education, Lizzie had become quite the popular and promising student. She had a part time job at the popular pub the Three Broomsticks in the village of Hogsmeade, a large circle of friends, got near perfect grades, and her passion for riding horses had reignited after a tragic accident in her fourth year resulted in the death of her beloved horse, Raven, and she was appointed Captain of the Gryffindor equestrian team. 

It all came to a screeching halt after she rejected the advances of a fellow Gryffindor Cormac McLaggen who had been runner up for Keeper during the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts. Unable to handle this scalding rejection from Lizzie, Cormac set out on a brutal campaign to destroy Lizzie’s reputation, which culminated in one of the most emotionally traumatic events of Lizzie’s life. 

Cormac and five of his friends had gang raped, and tortured Lizzie for over eight hours in the Gryffindor common room, branding her with cigarettes, forcing alcohol down her throat (though Lizzie almost never drank), and made her believe that she was going to die. 

Lizzie was lucky to escape with her life, and though she had not passed her Apparition test, she packed her trunk, and Apparated out of the castle, out of Hogwarts, and out of England. 

She ended up in Las Vegas, Nevada where she wandered the busy city strip for an hour before she finally ended up at Zak’s place. 

It took a lot of coaxing, but after a gentle talking to, and a cup of good old English tea in her hands, Lizzie finally began to recall the horrifying details of her ordeal that she was lucky to survive from. 

Zak then took Lizzie to the hospital where she was photographed and examined by doctors and nurses

As Lizzie began to pack her things in her old school trunk which had the initials E.S.B stamped on it in peeling letters, it was as if every item inside the dusty trunk, held some kind of memory: the scarlet with a gold jumping horse Capitan’s badge she used to wear when she was on the Gryffindor equestrian team, that after so many years, had become tarnished, and battered with age, the fake Horcrux locket that had taken place of the real one, An old photo album full of moving photographs of her and Raven, A torn letter from Oxford University offering Lizzie a full ride scholarship upon her graduation from Hogwarts, which was later revoked after stress from Cormac’s relentless harassment caused her grades to founder. 

Her old school robes which were now three sizes too small, and had become frayed, Her team show coat, with the embroidered Gryffindor lion on the right side, faded and beginning to peel from the fabric, several gold buttons on the front and back of the coat were missing; a rolled up, tattered poster of the Ghost Adventures Crew that Zak had personally signed, A dusty copy of  Training the Three-Day Horse and Rider, given to her by Professor Lupin during the early days of her equestrian career, and many other knick-knacks that had personal or sentimental value. 

It seemed silly for Lizzie to keep everything, and she certainly wasn’t the hoarding type of person, but everything in her trunk had ties to when she was happy at Hogwarts, long before she met Cormac. She may not have actually been killed that night, but as she put it, “My life ended the day I met Cormac. He didn’t kill me, but he might as well have,” 

As Lizzie continued to sort through her belongings, she came across a folded piece of paper. Upon reading its contents, Lizzie remembered it was an obituary that she had cut from the Daily Prophet, for her old Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who sadly passed away just after Lizzie dropped out of Hogwarts. 

Lizzie had mixed feelings about Dumbledore. She thought he was a great person, but she did feel resentful, because when she went to him begging for protection against Cormac, Dumbledore turned her away, and never once took what she said seriously. 

Now, as Lizzie re-read the obituary in her hands, she felt a large lump in her throat and her chest constrict. This whole time, she thought he had known Dumbledore relatively well, not a well as her best friend, Harry Potter did, certainly, but well enough. Now she had to come to the rather excruciating realization that she didn’t know the man at all. And this  broke her heart. 

Lizzie gazed over at her bedside table to her iPhone which was charging on the table. It had been many years since she and Harry had spoken. In fact, the last time they saw each other, was during the Battle at Hogwarts which led to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. They had promised each other that they would stay in touch, and they had, exchanging a handful of letters back and forward, but they hadn’t talked face to face for nearly ten years. 

Harry had to be in his late twenties now, like Lizzie, and must have a family of his own, surely. She had received an invitation to his and Ginny Weasley’s wedding, and to their delight, Lizzie attended. It was a beautiful ceremony. She had also attended Hermione and Ron’s wedding as well. 

Although happy for her friends, Lizzie couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of jealousy that she hadn’t taken the plunge herself. She had only been dating Zak for a few months, and he had given her a fair warning that the women in his life never stuck around due to the fact that Zak had more than one spirit attachment. 

Though fifteen years his senior, Lizzie and Zak were closer than ever before. When they had first met, Lizzie had been nothing more than a fan of Zak’s. It seemed too good to be true that he would eventually want her to be his girlfriend.

Lizzie thought about this as she stared at her phone. She had Harry’s phone number, which they had exchanged after the Battle. She had Ron, and Hermione’s too. One phone call couldn’t hurt, Lizzie thought as she sat down on her bed, opened her phone with a special six-digit password, opened her contacts, and found Harry’s number. She touched it and held the phone to her ear.

The phone rang twice before a male voice answered. “Hello?” “Hi, Harry, it’s Lizzie,” said Lizzie. “Lizzie! Blimey! It’s been a while!” Said Harry. “Yeah, tell me about it, sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been - er - busy,” “Let me guess,” said Harry. “Investigating the paranormal? Locking yourself in haunted locations overnight?” 

Lizzie smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “Professor McGonagall just sent me a letter. She wants me to investigate Hogwarts with Zak and the guys.” Harry sighed with amusement though Lizzie wasn’t fooled. Harry had been a skeptic when it came to ghosts and the paranormal for as long as they had been friends. 

When Lizzie confided in Harry that she could see and talk to spirits, he said she was mad. Though Lizzie was not the type of person to make up stories for the sole purpose of getting attention, there was no persuading her friend. Hermione gave a similar reaction, and Ron however was immensely intrigued. 

“Harry, I don’t know, I told Zak I’d go, but…” “You’re having second thoughts?” Asked Harry. Lizzie sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know, there’s just something weird about going. The last time I was there - sorry - the last time we were there….” Her voice died in her throat, but Harry seemed to get it.

“But it’s not just that is it?” Asked Harry. This was really a testament as to how much of a bond Harry had with Lizzie. When they were at Hogwarts together, Harry had this uncanny ability to tell when Lizzie was holding back her feelings or when she was lying about something. Perhaps it was in her facial expressions that gave her away, and if it was, Lizzie never noticed, but somehow Harry still could tell when she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“It’s about what Cormac did to you isn’t it?” Asked Harry. Lizzie was quiet on the other line. “You know you could always ask for an apology,” “Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, Harry,” said Lizzie, her voice bitter and full of icy resentment. “And it sure as hell doesn’t undo what that bastard and his friends did to me. D-do you know that I can’t have children because of what he did?’

“I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry, Lizzie,” said Harry, his tone was quiet, gentle and full of sympathy. “But I get it, you’re still angry that no one helped you.” “And it’s not like I never asked!” Said Lizzie. “I went to Dumbledore so many times! I begged for him to help me!” “I know you did, Liz,” said Harry gently. 

“But on a side note, I got a new horse,” said Lizzie, changing the subject abruptly. “Did you?” Asked Harry. “What’s his name?” “Her name,” said Lizzie. “Is Midnight,” “A mare?” Asked Harry laughing. “You got a mare?” “Why so surprised?” Asked Lizzie, smiling. “I don’t know,’’ said Harry. “It’s just - when we were at Hogwarts you always seemed to gravitate towards the male school horses. Is she - hard to handle? I mean does she give you attitude sometimes?” “Yeah, she really decided to play up just the other day,” said Lizzie. “But?” asked Harry. “Ehh, I was able to get her under control,” said Lizzie. 

“I think at the end of the day, she has a hard time coping with her own trauma.” “Was Midnight abused?” Asked Harry, sounding worried. “Oh, my gosh! Yes! Horribly!” Said Lizzie. “Her mouth was all torn up when I first met her because her previous owner used to wrap barbed wire around the bit, and force it into her mouth. He called it ‘training”’ said Lizzie bitterly. 

Harry sighed. “Well, now she has you,” he said. “Yep, and she’s doing so much better,” said Lizzie. “Good,” said Harry. Lizzie heard a knock on the door as she looked up and saw Zak standing in the doorway. “Um, I gotta go, I’ll call you later, before we get on the train,” 

“Okay,” said Harry. “And Lizzie?” “Yeah?” Asked Lizzie. “I love you, you know that right?” Lizzie smiled. “I love you too,” she said as she hung up the phone. 

“Harry?” Asked Zak. “Mm-hmm,’’ said Lizzie. Zak walked into the room, and sat on the bed next to Lizzie and kissed her on the cheek. “Nearly done packing?” Asked Zak. “Halfway,” said Lizzie. 

Zak reached into Lizzie’s still open trunk, took out a bundle wrapped in a silk scarf, and unwrapped it. 

Into his hand fell a single steel horseshoe. But there was also something wrapped in plastic inside the silk scarf as well. Zak felt inside the silky bundle and pulled out a tiny plastic bag, which inside contained a single lock of jet black hair. Zak could tell immediately that the hair inside the bag was horse hair. And he didn’t have to ask Lizzie who the shoe or the hair belonged to. 

“Hagrid gave that to me after Raven died,” said Lizzie. “He knew how much Raven meant to me,” Zak smiled. 

“I called, Aaron, Billy and Jay, and they agreed to come to Hogwarts. Dakota’s agreed to come too,  but I can’t think for the life of me how we plan on getting there,” said Zak. “What do you mean?” Asked Lizzie. “I don’t - fly anymore,” said Zak. “Oh, no worries!” Said Lizzie. “We’ll Apparate to Kings Cross in London, then, we can take the Hogwarts Express from there!” Said Lizzie. 

“Okay, I guess,” said Zak. 

They continued to clean out Lizzie’s trunk sorting out the rubbish, the sentimental trinkets, and the robes that they could donate to secondhand shops in Diagon Alley. After she finished cleaning out her trunk, she began to pack it full of things she planned on taking with her. 

She included two pairs of riding breeches, her tall riding boots and gloves and her Charles Owen riding helmet. Then she packed her casual clothes, her wand, and the equipment she would be using during their investigation. She even took some of her old spell books (the ones that were still in good condition), and even texted Hermione asking her how to make Essence of Dittany, and other potions that could come in handy whilst on their trip. She also took her 357 handgun just in case.

Just as they were finishing up, Zak heard a tap, tap, tap! noise on the window and was surprised to see a large barn owl clutching a yellow envelope in its talons. 

Lizzie scrambled to her feet, and opened the window, removed the screen, and the owl hopped onto the sill, as Lizzie carefully took the package from the owl, as it ruffled its feathers, turned and took flight. Even after all these years, Lizzie still continued to receive mail by ‘owl post’.

A quick look at the return address told her it was from Harry. Lizzie tore the envelope and inside was a piece of parchment folded intricately in different directions, yet it appeared to be blank. There was a note there too. 

Lizzie, 

I duplicated the Marauder’s Map, and sent you a copy.  I thought you may find it useful during your investigation. You remember how to use it, but you may need to teach Zak. Just remember to tell him how to wipe it clean so no one can read it. 

Much love and luck 

Harry. 

Lizzie smiled with excitement. “Is that from Harry?” Asked Zak. “Yeah, he sent me a copy of the Marauder’s Map,” said Lizzie. “What’s that?” Asked Zak. “A magical map of Hogwarts,” said Lizzie. “It belongs to Harry, but he duplicated it for me so we could use it during our investigation.” 

“How does it work?” Asked Zak. “Looks like a blank piece of paper.” 

Lizzie smiled as she picked up her wand from her bedside table, and tapped the parchment with it. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” said Lizzie clearly. Ink lines snaked across the parchment, forming words, and lines. After a moment the surface of the parchment that had been blank only moments ago, now bore the words: 

Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, are proud to present

The Marauder’s Map. 

Zak’s blue eyes widened in awe, as Lizzie unfolded the parchment, showing the inside of the map. It looked a lot like interior plans for a house. And there were moving footprints  in countless areas of the map, each marked with a name, and moving in various directions. 

“Holy shit!” Zak gasped. Lizzie smiled. “Mm-hmm,” she said. “And…This is Hogwarts?” Asked Zak. “Yep!” Said Lizzie, feeling a strong sense of pride and satisfaction at her boyfriend’s awed look. “Every square inch of it!” “That’s awesome!” Said Zak. “Right?” Asked Lizzie, giggling. “I reckon we can map our our x cameras on here,” “Lizzie,” said Zak, holding Lizzie’s face in his hands, and kissing her. “You’re a genius,” 

Lizzie smiled. “I do have to make a few stops before we go to Kings Cross to catch the train,” “Where to?” Asked Zak. “I want to stop in Diagon Alley, to a secondhand robes shop, and donate my old school robes, and Gringotts, to get some money out of my account,’’ said Lizzie. 

“Ah,” said Zak. Lizzie tapped the Marauder’s Map with her wand again. “Mischief Managed,” she said, tapping the map, and it was instantly erased, looking blank once more. 

[riverflowsthroughit]

Social Worker Extraordinaire, New York City

Verena was my partner in a late night on-call volunteering work for over five years. It was called Domestic and Other Violence Emergencies (DOVE) Program at New York Presbyterian Hospital where we would expect a call between the hours of 6PM and 7AM and get ourselves to the ER without a real clue of what we may expect to see. We would essentially relieve the social workers during the night by being first responders to a trauma patient, specifically after a sexual assault or domestic violence incident. I know the program transformed me immensely and one of the things I was able to take away was meeting and staying in touch with so many incredibly talented and compassionate individuals. These women had full time jobs but spent time during nights and weekends facing some of the harshest realities of our society, and helping others start on a long road to healing. Verena took that experience and with her incredible gift of listening and empathizing was able to shine even brighter. And all the roads we have to walk are winding, as they say. So proud to call her my friend and learn a couple of new (and surprising) things about her from the Q/A below. 1. Name Verena Salvi 2. Where is your hometown? Rome, Italy. 3. What is your profession/career/title/self-label/designation? I’m an advocate, a social worker and a trauma-focused psychotherapist in the crime victim unit of a large hospital. I’m also an adjunct professor in the graduate department of Columbia University School of Social Work, a faculty member of the post-graduate Trauma Training Program at the Institute for Contemporary Psychotherapy, and a freelance trainer and consultant with various organizations working on gender-based violence and human rights. 4. What was the journey like to get where you are (career wise)? When was the mental shift to start the journey? It was a journey alright, in both the figurative and the literal sense of the word. Growing up in a household with domestic violence, I began traveling my way out of reality years before I could physically travel away. Since an early age, I developed the ability to dissociate from my own experiences and attune to the experiences of the people around me, listening and giving my time to others as an instrument for confessions of both anguish and happiness. I didn’t know it back then, but listening to other people and accompanying them through arduous journeys would soon become my passion and my life. But it would take many more miles of physical travel, new beginnings and second chances, from Rome to London to Dublin and back to Rome, before I could find my way to New York City and learn to re-attune to my own emotions. Rome lives on a past so glorious to challenge the passing of time and New York transcends time because its strength lies in the hopes of its inhabitants, vibrating to the beats of the most colorful humanity. After nearly 15 years, this is home. 5. Biggest accomplishment since making the (physical/mental) move? I’m proud of the work I do and immensely grateful for the privilege to provide long-term quality trauma-informed treatment to survivors independently of their ability to pay. Compassionate and competent care should not be off limits to people who cannot afford the big bucks and should not have an arbitrarily-set expiration date. How do you begin a journey of recovery by telling someone that they only have a set amount of sessions to get better? The most harrowing consequence of trauma is the shattering of human connections. You see, trauma is what happens but also what doesn’t happen; it’s the lack of support and understanding after a difficult experience or even worse the presence of blame. My work has taught me that when survivors experience being seen and heard by a safe and compassionate person, and without boundary violations, they start to create a new template for what human relationships can be; they begin to see themselves not as damaged but as people who have been hurt but are not broken and are capable of moving forward in life. For trauma survivors, safe and reliable connection is an oxygen line straight to the heart. We now know a tremendous amount about trauma and about how to mitigate and transform the effects of trauma, but we are not doing a good-enough job at making sure that all survivors have access to specialized modalities to help them move beyond survival and reclaim what was stolen from them - the ability to live in the present moment. As I realized that the most traumatized survivors are also the most underserved, I set out to train in modalities that are experiential and aim at providing a reparative experience. I trained in Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Internal Family Systems (IFS), Sensorimotor Psychotherapy and brought all these modalities and knowledge to my work, where survivors don’t have to worry about how they are going to pay for therapy or about having to recover from years of abuse in just a few weeks. 6. What was biggest disappointment and plan to overcome it? I feel defeated by the lack of available resources to overcome injustice. I can tell a survivor that she is not to blame and not deserving of violence but I can’t make an affordable apartment materialize for her so she and her children can be safe; I can’t make more beds appear in domestic violence shelters and I can’t make a conviction happen for a rapist who doesn’t even see the inside of a court room, let alone the inside of a cell. I can’t make competent trauma-informed psychiatrists lower their fees or take common insurances, and I can’t stop Family Court judges from awarding visitation rights to perpetrators of violence solely based on their rights as parents. If you terrorize your family, physically and/or psychologically, your rights as parent should not override the rights of the people you inflicted harm upon. I don’t know how to overcome barriers deeply entrenched in patriarchy, lack of privilege, systematic racism, and gender-based oppression, but I think that it will take the big village and the strength of movements like Black Lives Matter, feminists and LGBTQ rights activists, and the many other voices of the historically unheard people in partnership with organizations like The American Civil Liberties Union, committed to use their power for the advancement of justice. I’m waiting for the revolution Tracey Chapman sang about… remember? It’s sounds like a whisper! 7. Advice for other women? Make a lot of noise and reject any and all of the oppressive messages that have been battered into the hearts and minds of girls and women since forever; chief among them the message that women share any responsibility in their victimizations. No more; not ever. Women should not have to live their lives from a harm-reduction perspective. Why should anyone have to make decisions based on what would make them more or less likely to be raped? The responsibility to commit interpersonal violence resides solely on the person who chooses to victimize another one. We need to stop policing women’s lives and hold perpetrators of violence accountable. 8. Where in the world do you feel “tallest”? Laying down and looking up at the sky. There’s so much space for all of us. 9. What extra-curricular activities/hobbies are you most proud of? Why? Outside of my work, my biggest passion is the rock singer Noel Gallagher. His music has been the soundtrack of my life and has accompanied me through all major life transitions, across countries, continents and redemption. I followed Noel Gallagher around the world, and when I’m on the road I feel 16 years old. 10. What is the future goal/challenge (career and/or life goals in 5-10 years)? Right now my biggest goal is to get more comfortable seating for the survivors I see for therapy. Welcome to the world of non-profit; we do amazing work but we don’t have enough resources. I dream of being able to transform my office into a haven of physical comfort, because my survivors are worth it. But I need better furniture. One day. 11. What fears are you still hoping to overcome? I’m still afraid that I won’t be able to help the next survivor who enters my therapy room. A few days ago, a girl sat in front of me with visible cuts all over her arms, several suicide attempts in her past, and a combination of hope and resignation in her eyes. Little did she know that as her voice trembled and she attempted to negotiate between hope and despair, I was engaged in the same struggle inside of me. I heard a familiar voice whispering, “You won’t be able to help her.” Instead of trying to silence it, I welcomed it and recognized it for what it was; a very young part of me who learned that it’s better not to take chances. And so I whispered back, “It’s okay little one; thank you for trying to protect me from disappointment, but I got this. I can help her.” If this young woman could find the courage to trust again, I could find the courage to walk alongside her. I told her, “I don’t know how and I don’t know how long it will take, but I’m going to see you through this.” She smiled and I smiled. 12. Anything you'd do differently (if you had another go at life)? Yes, quite a few. I would be kinder to myself from a much younger age. I’ve only really began to treat myself with the same loving kindness I treat other people in recent years, and even now I can slip back into old habits of self-devaluing too easily. As a woman, I tolerated too much and have apologized too many times for things that required no apology or, even worse, for events in which I should have been on the receiving end of an apology. But where I have no regrets is laughter… I have had some great laughs in this life, by myself and with other people. 13. What inspires you? People who live with disabilities and continue to be examples of dignity and strength in a world where those in power shamelessly mock them and suffer no consequences; immigrants and refugees who travel through hell for a new life and to contribute honestly to the wealth of this country only to live with the daily fear of being separated from their loved ones; survivors of sexual violence who have the courage to speak up even when they are given the message that it’s okay for someone to “grab” them and exploit them to satisfy a sense of entitlement. Time and time again, it is when I’m faced with the worst of humanity that I find the best of humanity as well. 14. What are you hopeful about? A new wave of activism with a no-tolerance attitude for injustice and violation of human rights; this new wave is rightly defiant of the old and defective argument that there should be space for all opinions if the opinions presented are, in fact, about hatred and violating human rights. We can disagree on whether or not access to weapons keep people safer or contribute to widespread violence. I happen to agree with the latter argument but we can talk about it. If you think LGBTQ people should not have the same rights and civil liberties as everyone else or if you believe that it is okay to torture prisoners of war, we are no longer having a difference of opinion; you are advocating to deny someone their humanity and basic rights and my tolerance for your “opinion” does not extend to violation of human rights. 15. What are you reading now? (what books do you gift most and what are your favorite reads?) The Daily Show, an Oral History (I miss Jon Stewart). I have given away more copies of Trauma and Recovery that I can remember. The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog, by child psychiatrist Bruce Perry, changed me as a psychotherapist for the better and forever. Borderliners, by Peter Hoeg, was the book that made me feel not alone as a girl. The Body Keeps the Score, by Bessel van der Kolk, should be a mandatory read for anyone working with trauma. Why Does He Do That, by Lundy Bancroft, is the gift of freedom for any woman who has experienced domestic violence. Missoula: Rape and the Justice System in a College Town, by Jon Krakauer, should be read by anyone who works in a college in just about any capacity. Willow Weep for Me is a beautifully-written personal narrative of trauma and depression and one of the few works of non-fiction portraying the recovery journey of a woman of color. 16. Who is a “WOW Woman” in your life who inspires you (and why)? My EMDR supervisor, Leah Leatherbee. Leah is the most gifted therapist I know, a dedicated teacher and, above all, a woman who radiates good energy and warmth. She is that person who leaves a room better than she found it and never seems to run out of encouragement for others and sunshine to share. You can learn more about her here: parnellemdr.com/members/lleatherbee/ 17. Where can others find you/your work (links to websites, blogs, etc.)? DOVE website An article about our work Trauma Training Program link Linkedin My (non-trauma related, for once) Instagram

[bd60mma]

The Pursuit of Happiness

Sharing my thoughts about anxiety, depression, and suicide

Virtually everyone understands the feeling of anxiety, no matter what the source may be; perhaps you’ve experienced it giving a speech at school, or being interviewed for a job, or when expecting bad news to come. Likewise, most people understand what being depressed feels like, at least to some extent; the grief from losing a loved one, the sadness caused by a bad break-up or the end of a friendship, or any other negative event that has impacted your life has probably left you feeling depressed for some amount of time.

However, not many people understand the immense toll depression and anxiety can take when experienced over a prolonged period of time.

I’d like to share some of my experiences with these issues. I am not writing this post to reach out for help, or to bring attention to myself, nor to gain sympathy from anyone. I am writing this in the hopes that it will help improve people’s understanding on some of these important issues, and to learn about some of the signs that someone they know or care about may be struggling and perhaps inspire them to reach out before it’s too late.

The Roots of Depression

A lot of people that haven’t had to struggle with depression (or in extension, anxiety) often think that a traumatic event has to happen in order for someone to fall into depression, but this is often not the case. 

I, for instance, come from a loving and close family: we never had a lot of money growing up, but there was always food on the table and a roof over my sister and I’s heads, my parents were both always around and there to support us and encourage us to do what makes us happy in life, and I’m fortunate enough to have never had any sort of “traumatic event” happen to me (either through abuse, someone very close passing away, etc.)

Despite this, I have been severely depressed for as long as I can remember; the last time I can honestly remember not wanting to kill myself was likely grade 11 or early in grade 12 (I’m currently 22), and even prior to that I had been unhappy. There was no inciting incident, and not even a series of identifiable events that caused my depression.

In my case, my depression came likely as the result of social and general anxiety disorders over a long period of time. 

You may have found it strange that I couldn’t remember when I hadn’t wanted to kill myself, and by extension when I first thought of killing myself - suicidal thoughts are definitely an extreme measure and I think it’s safe to say most people would say that thinking you wanted to kill yourself would be a pretty pivotal moment in your life. But that’s exactly my point - the progression of anxiety and depression is often not clearly identifiable, it is a gradual process that does not have a discernible beginning or end for many people.

Anxiety as a Disorder

When I mention anxiety, it’s important to note I’m talking about a level of anxiety that is not ordinary. Humans, like most organisms, have a natural physical response to perceived danger. Anxiety is this response - it’s a crucial element to an organism’s survival (though made less important in modern society’s relative safety). Therefore feeling anxiety is normal - in small doses it can even be exciting and fun, such as the fear you might experience before going on a roller coaster, or when watching a horror movie. However, the difference between normal anxiety and an anxiety disorder is the activation of this ‘fight or flight’ response even when there is no danger present.

When someone has an anxiety disorder, often they find themselves excessively worrying about things, even if they don’t care about what it is they’re worried about. They’ll also (at least in my case) sometimes exhibit physical signs of anxiety and stress even when their mind is occupied with something else and thus not worried or stressing over something - such as excessive sweating, difficulty speaking (stuttering or fumbling over words, losing your train of thought mid-sentence, etc.), or feeling very hot even in cold conditions, among many other possible symptoms.

As this disorder progresses, the anxiety becomes essentially a constant - the queasy butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling is almost always with you, and other problems like difficulty speaking and blushing or sweating persist even in the most relaxed of settings. It often progresses without someone even realizing they have a problem - often they think it’s completely normal. After someone becomes aware of this however, it often increases the intensity - in my case, particularly when nervous, I visibly sweat on my forehead, making my face look “shiny” as one person so politely remarked. After I realized this in high school, it made me worry about it happening which of course only made it worse.

As is the case with most people with a social anxiety disorder, this anxiety caused me to become increasingly anti-social, which not only made my anxiety worse, it fed into depression. I was uncomfortable around people, thus I tried to avoid people and things that I felt anxious about (which is a natural response, but when that leads you to not having any friends and not doing things that you’d like to do, it’s not a healthy response). 

I also dealt with being teased throughout my life, though I am hardly innocent - I gave just as much as I received right up until my last few years of high school, it was just kind of the way it was for a lot of us where I grew up (not that that’s a good excuse). I’ve never been particularly attractive and have been overweight since I was little (not to the extent of repulsing people by my mere presence or not being able to fit though a doorway, but enough to draw comments). When my anxiety (though I don’t think anyone recognized it as being anxiety) became noticeable, the teasing started becoming more and more frustrating. On top of dealing with being uncomfortable without being teased or annoyed, I now had additional anxiety poured on from being embarrassed on a daily basis. For a time I’d even go home for lunch in high school (my house was a short walk away) so I didn’t have to be around anyone, which ironically I’d then be teased more for.

These problems contributed to my increasing loneliness and feeling of being an outsider, something I’ve struggled with throughout my life.

The Life of an Outsider

I’ve never really found a place where I feel that I “fit in” - I’ve always seemed to be the odd one out, the “black sheep” if you will. Even when I did have friends in school, they never seemed to accept me the same way they accepted other people in their groups. While sometimes it was obvious why (for instance, when I was in middle and high school, I’d often hang out with a bunch of East Indian kids that I’ve known since elementary school, and thus I was the only white kid in the group - something they didn’t let me forget), nevertheless it’s never a fun feeling to be somewhere you don’t feel accepted.

Even now in my own family I don’t always feel I belong. My mom has had OCD since I was born and struggles with depression, so she understands more than most, and my dad, having supported and been with my mom all these years understands the gist of anxiety and depression and is sympathetic; my sister was also recently diagnosed with OCD following her second child, so anxiety and OCD kind of run in my family. 

That being said, being that my problems are directly social and started while I was still very young, I haven’t been able to make the connections and live a “normal” life like they have for the most part. I don’t have a social circle to speak of; I’ve never had a girlfriend or even a girl as a friend that I’ve actually met; I’m graduating from university after 5 years of attending, yet the closest I’ve been to having made a real friend in those years was someone who only saw a picture of my face once after we had already talked for weeks, that I’ve never met and didn’t want to talk to me anymore after a few months.

And then there’s my two little nephews, who are 1 and (almost) 4 - don’t get me wrong, I love them both and want nothing but the best for them, but kids have always made me uncomfortable (since I myself was a kid). I’ve just never been good with kids. My social awkwardness is even more apparent around children, and when they’re around I feel even more like a social pariah, a fly on the wall watching everyone else enjoy life. My family often comments about having kids when I’m older, but I never will even if I did find someone to be in a relationship with.

On top of that there’s having to hide your depression. People hide their depression or anxiety for a myriad of reasons, but often it’s first and foremost to protect those around them or to avoid the embarrassment often associated with mental illness. I can attest to both of those, though embarrassment is no longer really a factor for me personally. 

Wearing the Mask

For me, I value honesty and integrity above all else. When I said something like “I’ll never do drugs” when I was little, I was the one kid who meant it. People often confuse self-love with self-respect, but I think they’re entirely different concepts. I don’t like myself, and don’t think I ever really have, but I’ve always respected myself. I respect that I have a moral code and stick to it even when it becomes inconvenient, something that I think is rare nowadays. I have never wanted to or will ever do drugs, drink, or “hook up” with anyone (I like to think that sex should be between two people that love each other, though I realize it’s not exactly a common belief or practice nowadays, but that’s what I’m sticking to). Although I’ve made my fair share of mistakes in the past, I do my best to treat others with respect and fairness, and to not use people as the means to an end. And I respect others that have different opinions on any of these subjects, so long as they don’t try to force others to conform to their opinions or hurt anyone else.

My values make it especially hard to have to essentially lie every day to the people I care about.

Every day I wake up and go to sleep miserable. I go to sleep wishing I didn’t have to ever wake up again, and I wake up wishing I had died in my sleep. Yet every day I pretend that I’m fine, that nothing is wrong, that I’m perfectly happy. I’ve seen plenty of posts on social media about having a “fake skin” which you put on to hide your depression, and I can tell you it is exactly like that. You put on a smile and positive attitude to prevent anyone else from feeling your pain, to prevent the people in your life from worrying about you. In the end, it’s something that I don’t believe I have much choice in. Letting people know how I feel has not helped me in the past nor present, it does not improve things for me, and it does not benefit those close to me for them to know that I want to kill myself when they can’t do anything about it. Therefore, I stay quiet.

Getting “Help”

I’ve gone for professional “help” twice. I hesitate to call it help because it didn’t do a lot for me and does not help everyone, but I do think everyone that suffers from a problem such as anxiety or depression should speak to a doctor and/or psychiatrist as soon as they can after realizing they have a problem. Many people do improve their situation through therapy, medication, or a combination thereof, and just talking about and admitting there’s a problem does help, even if only a little. Similar to many physical illnesses, I believe that mental illness can be treated much more effectively before it becomes a major issue. That being said, the more severe the depression/anxiety is, in my experience, the less effective the treatment.

Like most people who reach out for medical help, I was put on several different SSRI’s to try and improve things - if you don’t know, SSRI’s are a common anti-depressant that tries to combat depression and anxiety disorders by increasing serotonin. Their effectiveness varies wildly and they can have a variety of side effects that can be severe and long-lasting, even after stopping the medication. Essentially, they’re drugs that mess with the chemistry in your head that can be effective for some people, or make things worse for others. Trying to find one that positively affects you is a pain - I only had to try a few (something I’d never do again) before I found one that at the time seemed to help a bit. Whether it was (or still is, as I still take it) the medication or a placebo effect is another matter, but in the end, when it comes to severe depression most medications don’t do a great job - after running out of faith in my treatment (along with therapy, which unfortunately was not effective for me), I did some research on my own and you’ll find that success in long term patients is spotty at best. The longer someone suffers with severe anxiety and depression, the less likely they are to recover - even your brain physically changes after prolonged depression.

I first reached out to my mom for help after I had graduated high school (I didn’t even attend prom or the graduation ceremony - I pretended that I just wanted to get my diploma and move on because I hated school, which I did, but I did wish I could have gone), and that’s when I went to my family doctor and started therapy and treatment. 

The last time I went for help was a few years later (maybe two years ago now?). I broke down right before school had started again. It had been a long and lonely four months off of university (like every summer I suppose) and I got severely anxious (even for me) to go back for the fall semester. I talked to my mom again, and I will never forget the look on her face when, with tears in my eyes, I told her I needed to talk to my doctor and get help again. She had thought I had been doing better, and I guess the realization that I wasn’t got to her. I think I could literally see my mom’s heart break in that moment, as if she had died a little inside that day. I went for help again but at that point it was really more of the same, and I gave up entirely on getting medical help shortly after.

It may sound like I’m against seeking help for these issues, but I’m far from it. Seeking medical help has shown to help a lot of people, and just because it hasn’t benefitted me much doesn’t mean it can’t help others. It’s important to reach out as soon as you can though; I didn’t and unfortunately still suffer the consequences, though there’s no guarantee it would have made a difference in my case.

The Twisted Circle of Suicide

I’ve always been an intelligent, logical person - in grade 5 I was tested for being ‘gifted’ and had an IQ of 140, I’ve always done well in school despite rarely trying or being interested at all in most subjects, and rational decision-making is something I take pride in - which might make it surprising that I’d want to do something most people would deem illogical.

In fact, intelligent people are more likely to struggle with depression and anxiety disorders and we don’t yet know why. Perhaps it’s natural selection running its course in such illogical and misinformed times, or maybe it’s simply the brain overheating from thinking too much. My favourite videogame series (Halo) actually explores the latter thought, though not many people notice the insight; a main character in the game is actually an advanced human-like AI (artificial intelligence) which has a very short lifespan because as time goes on, the AI essentially thinks itself into lunacy and eventually its own “death” - a surprisingly deep insight into anxiety and suicide. 

The late Robin Williams made a statement in a movie that I heard after his unfortunate suicide a few years back (he died on my birthday no less) that really stuck with me - “…suicide is a permanent solution, to a temporary problem”. It stuck out not only because it rings true for some, but because of the look in his eyes when he said it. Robin was of course acting out a scene from a movie he was in, so it was not his own quote, however his eyes told a story all on their own - the line he delivered felt hollow, as if he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t believe it himself. Williams of course brought a lot of attention to depression during his life and particularly after his death, and is possibly the greatest example of the “sad clown” you could find - someone who did their best to make others experience joy and happiness, yet on the inside they found nothing but misery.

It’s this pursuit of happiness which is such a vital part of human nature. In essence, all everyone really wants to do is to be happy. Your dreams, your goals, your wishes, they all generally come down to wanting to make yourself happy. Even if you want to make someone else happy, you do so because them being happy gives you a feeling of happiness. I believe everyone has the right to be happy, so long as they don’t infringe on someone else’s happiness. And therein lies the problem with suicide.

I’ve been trying for years to improve, to make friends, to find something that will change my outlook on life. All I’ve ever really wanted since I was a kid was to find someone that I could love and make happy, that I could be comfortable with and that liked me for who I am. That may sound sappy but that’s truly what I’ve always dreamed of. Unfortunately I haven’t found much success on any front - I've never even gotten to hug someone that isn't family, and I've never even met with a girl outside of class time (in which case the extent of my interaction with them is usually a few awkward words and that's it) - but then the question of will that actually help comes up.

I used to think jealously of people as a kid (as most kids do) - how could someone complain when they have X and Y? I’d kill for that. Now that I’m older, I can apply that same logic to myself. I’ve got family that loves me, a roof over my head, money in the bank, access to a world of information at my fingertips - how could I complain? That’s a question I’ve revisited and have to wonder - what if I did find someone that I love and loved me? What if nothing changed? It’s something that scares me more and more because I honestly don’t know anymore if there is anything that could help.

What happens when no matter what you seem to do, you only manage to feel worse? 

What happens when the last flicker of hope you had fizzles out?

And so continues the twisted circle of suicide; the only way you can perceivably stop yourself from continuing to be miserable will bring pain to the people you care about. But at the same time, you feel that being alive is not helping anybody, thus suicide is actually helping them.

Suicide is selfish. That’s something I’ve heard a lot, even from my family. I actually argued with my grandmother after Robin Williams had passed away, as she had made a comment about him being selfish to do that to his kids. While I completely understood her point - leaving his kids without their father, leaving his family and friends to wonder what they could have done to help him, leaving those close to him to mourn his death - but why should he have to continue to suffer so much.

Most people would agree to go through hell to stop their loved ones from having to endure pain - I know I would. But what about having to endure your own version of mental hell, with no seeming end in sight, for months just to prevent them from the grief of losing you? What about years? Decades?

When does the price begin to outweigh the benefit?

Is sparing your loved ones from grief worth a lifetime of depression and misery?

That’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, and every day the answer seems a little less clear.

I think it’s important to take some of these things into consideration when talking about suicide, and when you judge someone else in general - you never know what someone could be going through.

Final Thoughts

It was difficult to write this piece not because I’m embarrassed or ashamed of my thoughts or who I am, but trying to put together a cohesive “story” to illustrate what I’m trying to say was tough. I know I put in a lot of personal stuff that you may find boring or unimportant, but I felt that was the best way to explain my thoughts. It might seem a little convoluted at times, but so is depression and anxiety, so I guess it’s pretty accurate.

Like I stated above, this is not about me asking for anyone’s help or to bring attention to myself; I just hope that someone that needs to will read this. If my story inspires someone to reach out for help, or to make a change in their life, or to try and help someone they think might be hurting, or even just raises someone’s awareness of mental illness, then I can be proud that I took the time to share. Thank you for reading.