#maybe I just need to cope with change (my conclusion every 20 minutes through this same chain of catastrophizing)

[robylovi]

How do I get rid of “just because my friends said no to 1 (one) hangout, doesn’t mean they hate me but if they did, (they don’t), I’d perfectly fine with it but am I actually perfectly fine with it? because if I were wouldn’t that mean I don’t value their friendship enough to grieve it the way a good friend would in which in case they would be correct in actually hating me even if-” disease.

[cutegirlmayra]

#NotAPrompt saddly:( Anyways hello hope ur having a good! So from an amazing writer to your fellow beginner writer. How do you organize ur ideas or outline it before you start a sonamy story?

Thank you and great question!~

When you start any story, there needs to be a written Outline, or spine, of a story. Loglines also help to organize a clear direction for your story– example: Sonic, a free-spirited and adventurous hedgehog, and his friends must collect all 7 chaos emeralds to stop Eggman and a released, ancient god of destruction from threatening their world. - Logline I made up for Sonic Adventure. A logline is one sentence that clearly establishes a character and conflict.

Once you have some ideas, let’s say maybe you have the middle worked out or the exciting incident, you then create an Outline. Act 1, Act 2, Act 3. Act 2 should be the longest and biggest portion.

In my prompts, I usually hurry through Act 1 to get you to the exciting incident and then smoothly transition through a wrapped up conclusion.

Act 1 should be small, almost equal to Act 3′s plot points. Act 1 is you introducing the normal life before something twists it around, the conflict. The conflict is the starting point to Act 2, where you begin the rising action.

(the most simplest form. There are other arcs, such as ‘Character Obstacles’, ‘Character Tragedy’, and ‘Character Hero Story’. There are a few more too, but those are the ones I write the most of :)b There’s even a romantic one! Look them up and find your favorites in your own stories, comics, or movies ;)b)

For example, in my lastest Sonamy story, the turning point for the characters was when Amy also got sick with Sonic. This changed the normality which was that Sonic was originally sick, and now, the conflict begins of how are they gonna hide from the robots while both being squished together sharing leaves and turning ditzy in their sickness? I then lead that to Act 3, where silliness does ensue but they end up having a memorable, although disgustingly funny, platonic moment together that turned sweeter and even romantic as the conclusion unfolded. (Prompt: x)

Granted, this story is NOT a work of art haha XD I was inspired to make it, but the plot to it was extremely simple, which is why no real ‘action’ takes place and it’s all character emotion that drive the plot forward.

OR

OR

Many ways a character can express or subtly hint at their emotions. Sometimes they’re impulsive and transparent, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. (AMY) Sometimes their shy or subtle, opting to mask their emotions deep below the surface until they can’t help but ‘leak’ their emotions out during the climactic reveal and ‘breaking point’ for their character or plot summary. (Sonic.) Sometimes their so out of it, or not even in tune with their own emotions that they play them off and go cynical with it all. (Sometimes, I see this as Classic Sonic, but not always.), there are many more. Find them all! lol

As for my bigger fanfictions, I do make a summary, which is the full story condensed into a page or so worth of ‘notes’ as I refer to them. It’s not as neat as labeling Act 1-3, but it does give me a basic outline.

For Example, you can’t use your summary outline for your summary to your story. Your summary should have the reader asking questions so they’ll want to engage with the story. Instead, your Summary Outline should look like this:

Sonic and Amy, during a normal fight with Eggman, suddenly mention a tough topic for the both of them that causes some bickering and tension. When the tension accelerates beyond normal teasing, the two end up accidentally losing their tempers and hurting each other. Eggman, deciding drama’s not what he wanted today, sends a fully-armed attack at them while their distracted, thinking it a good opportunity to catch Sonic off-guard. However, though Sonic looks like he’s about to get whammed by the ambush, Amy pushes him out of the way and they survive. Amazed, Sonic rushes over to her, “Amy! W-why… Why did you jump in the way like that? I don’t get it… Weren’t you mad?” He hovers over her as she weakly squints an eye up at him (NOTE: This part is getting more detailed, can you tell? It’s the climax of the story and should have much more detail and notes going on. Even dialogue that can be rewritten or changed. It’s okay to have notes like this for your most dramatic scene, and keep the rest of it generally swift, but try not to go too vague. If you do, you may forget how you wanted to write that part, and that’s NO GOOD! -Sonic reference, lol!) “S-Sonic… Don’t you understand?!” She wobbly gets up to lean up into his face, “No matter how mad you may make me, or how awful our bantering gets, I will still love you no matter what!” (Exciting Incident, Amy’s confession, which will lead to a reaction in not only Sonic but the audience. This is the height of the climax and when things start to go down, but Sonic’s climax is right after this– example: ) Sonic, taken back by her words, suddenly smiles, “I can do no wrong by you… can I?” Amy smiles, and when Sonic realizes she’s not teasing or messing around this time, loses the smile and has his eyes scan her for any sign of humor. When none is found, he embraces her, “…Thank you… Amy.” (This is the point you begin the falling action, which is also the beginning of Act 3, which starts at the ending of the climax and continues towards the resolution, the lasting effect or result of the climax. What has now changed for the characters? What is their new reality? In Drama, there needs to be a few players: Victim, Villian, and Rescuer. Rescuer has to lose every time, then the dynamic will change to Victim as a Villain, and Villian as Victim. This then turns into ‘Creator of the drama’ which is neither victim nor villain, to two supports, ‘Challenger’ Sonic then turns to Eggman, cocky and snarky as usual, but this time, with an arm around Amy’s shoulders. They fight together and beat Eggman, still lightly joking with one another, but not as bad as before. Eggman is confused, defeated, he asks what happened. Amy and Sonic confidently look to each other, and together, wink slyly and say, “Friends fight together!” Before Sonic says, “Doesn’t mean they’ll leave ya if you have different opinions then them.” He smiles to her as she nods and continues his sentence for him, looking to him with love and admiration. “It just means you’re two different people, and that’s just fine by me! Otherwise, the world would be so boring!” (The lesson is usually delivered towards the end of Act 3, maybe not as strongly as this was. Sometimes, the lesson can be subtle and should be too. You don’t want to write ‘on the nose’ unless you’re writing for children very young, but in my opinion, Children are super smart too and pick up on a lot! My advice is to write strongly and powerfully even if it’s just for children audiences. They’re smarter than you think!) “And dull!” Sonic remarks, as the two of them laugh. Unable to comprehend their strange mood swings, Eggman grips his head and ducks down, frowning profusely, “Ahh… Now I have a headache…” (

And by the end, your audience will have understood the climb your characters took to reach that resolution, and they–themselves–reach a conclusion to their emotional relief. (People hate cliffhangers so much because you leave the Audience suspended in their need for closure, but that also addicts them to your story… so Authors can’t help but use it XD But we hate having it used on ourselves!!! Curiosity doesn’t kill your story, only your cat! And the satisfaction of knowing brings it back ;)b)

Was it hard for your characters to reach a conclusion?

Did that help? Lol This plot I made was rather simple, but I hope it taught it some stuff I like to think about when making a story! :D Drama is SO IMPORTANT! Remember to think of their character cores as well, what traits could create conflict in them and in others? What traits could help them learn and cope through that trauma? These are all important, and Romance usually has a ‘revelation’ or ‘impulsive excitement push’ around 10-15 pages/minutes when writing or watching a romance plot. I call it the ‘push’ because you can tell the writer is trying to nudge the two together. In film, you see them get bumped up against each other and then apologize but the girl moves her hair as a distraction and the boy looks away, but both are nervous and awkwardly blushing. That’s another ‘push’ in my book towards the romantic subplot.)

(Then they notice their cute, they keep seeing each other, la-de-dah, even AMY wanted this to happen!)

(Remember, this is Amy’s ‘day-dream’ sequence, it’s interesting how she thinks of Sonic, versus how he actually portrays himself. Useful info for writing Sonamy XD)

Alright! How’d I do? What Sonic and Amy stories will you create, my precious Anon friend? Good luck! And I can’t wait to see the success you find!

[jacobthespaceguy]

New life, new computer & new perspective.

I wrote this half a year ago and forgot to post this. Enjoy.

Dear Cosmonauts,

Greetings! It’s me, your boy! Did you miss me? No? Yeah, not too surprised. To be honest, I would be genuinely surprised if anyone actually read these. It’ll never stop me though. I love using this as some kind of escape. I think I’m trying to say that I’m officially back to blogging! Well actually, I never was in a state of, “blogging.” I just simply make a blog post every once in a while. So instead of being back, I guess I will simply start blogging more often. At the very least, try to. In an ideal world, I would create entries at least once a month, that’s not too much to ask for... just a few paragraphs every month. Sounds easy enough... On that note, it probably isn’t. But maybe it is. It depends on your personality.

Laziness. Saying laziness defines me is an understatement. I don’t want to be lazy nor do I wish I was. I’m honestly not too sure why I'm so lazy. I think this pandemic just made it really bad. Working from home 3/5 days of the week changes you. Early on, I figured I would be able to use this extra time to work on more music and I even started being a mixing/mastering engineer for a friend of mines. However, I ended up using this extra time to stay in bed and be useless. Some would say I'm being hard on myself but I'm not. I stay in bed and I waste my time, my friend's time, and overall, I'm just a useless human being. I feel like a failure sometimes. However, I do hold on to the hope that I can change. I want to change. Some days, I tell myself, "I'll be productive this time," but then stay in bed half the day. By the time I'm up and eaten breakfast and done my whole morning routine... it'll be 2 o'clock and the day is practically over. It's not really over, but it'll feel like it. It sucks. Now the pandemic is ending and I'll probably have to go back to work full time soon. I have no idea how I'm going to cope with that. I'm already depresso mode from things changing so much around me that I feel like a hermit and want to hide under my desk for the rest of my life. I hate change. I hate it, hate it, HATE IT. I know change is good and if my music career takes off, then they'll be a lot of change. Although, I would rather endure that kind of pressure than have to go back to work. Every day to get to my work is a 40-minute drive there, and an hour drive back since traffic is so bad. I know other people have it worse, but with how tired I am after a shift, I have days where I lay on my bedroom floor doing nothing and or nap until I finally get up to shower, eat dinner and finally get to the home activities I wanted to. However, at this point, it'll be 7 PM and I'm too tired to do anything other than watch YouTube videos until 1 AM, and then it's finally time to go to bed. It's a struggle and I can't seem to escape it.

I don't even know what I'm writing anymore and lost track of where I was going with this. I guess it's to complain about hating work and or my laziness? I originally started writing this post with the intention to talk about my new computer and how writing a blog post with it is a vibe. I bought a mid-2017 MacBook Pro back in August of 2019. It was the most absolute base model and only had 128 gb of storage and 8 gb of ram. WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF! I loved the flexibility of having a decent laptop for when I travel, but this was a bad purchase that left me financially ruined. I want to say that it was a terrible machine and I hated it. However, it ran decently most of the time and I must confess that Apple just knows what they're doing when designing computers. I can't argue though, since I started this blog, I became an Apple fanboy and I'm seriously buried in the Apple ecosystem. My phone, laptop, tablet at one point but sold, my credit card, my watch, earphones, and tracking devices are all connected to Apple and they basically run my life. However, my main machine will likely always be a Windows desktop.

Back to the MacBook Pro, my 2017 laptop having 128 gb made the machine unusable for me. Apple offering a 128 gb machine was a cardinal sin and I do the happy dance every morning knowing they no longer exist. After downloading Reason and Logic Pro, I had about 8 gb for any else I wanted to use. I couldn't even have all of Logic's sounds installed. Ugh. I never used the machine because I resented it so much. However, I recently started using it to record my vocals because the fans (despite going up 1000 db when I record in Reason) were quieter than having my desktop fans on when recording so I opted to use my MacBook Pro to record instead. In addition, it was really nice to have when I was on the go and needed a computer. Despite being a baseline laptop, it ran the project file for my song, "Nothing Was The Same," decently enough for me to get some mixing done at my Dad's house late last year. It still chugged pretty bad when I was traversing through Reason's sequencer. My final straw was when I wanted to try a vocal plug-in that refused to work on my PC so I pulled out my MacBook Pro and installed it on there and it worked perfectly. I was like, "Man, I wish this MacBook Pro just had a little more storage so I can actually use it efficiently." That's when the idea came to me, "Holy crap, let's just buy a new MacBook."

I would constantly go to Apple's website and look at their newest 16" MacBook Pro. It's when Apple finally let go of the butterfly switches on their keyboard and went back to a scissor-switch design and improved the heck out of the performance. It was a beautiful machine and I wanted it ever since they announced it. So I went back on Apple's website last week after testing that vocal plug-in and was reminded of the horrendous price. $3,000 for a decently specced computer was just too much. Someone on Reddit was telling me how great Apple's refurbished computers are and that they're basically brand new aside from the regular box it comes in. So I decided I wanted to get a refurbished MacBook Pro. However, the next morning, I decided to do a little more research and I thank God I did because after a little research, I saw how much better the new 13" M1 chip MacBook Pro was over the current 16" Intel MacBook Pro and that it was the best laptop to buy. Even better, it's cheaper. So after more research, I decided to buy a refurbished max specced out M1 MacBook Pro. I finally have 2 tb of storage. 2 TB!!! I have more storage on this laptop than on my Windows desktop. I also went with silver over space grey like my other MacBook simply because it looks so much cooler. I don't care for space grey anymore. Something about the classic silver is where it's at. Also, this keyboard is amazing! I'm using it right now to type this. The Touch Bar is pretty cool too. I thought it would be a weird adjustment but it was actually pretty seamless. My only complaint is that it's easier to tap it and do something while typing on the keyboard. Happened to me twice while typing this. Although, all I did was open the emoji window so it wasn't even an issue. However, I think I type a bit in an unconventional way than most of you reading this do so just ignore me. I would also like to brag about how quiet this computer is. I haven't heard the fan once and it's dead quiet. In fact, the M1 MacBook Air doesn't even have a fan, that's how good this new Apple silicon is. Lastly, I haven't had the computer heat up at all yet. I'm typing this using safari with a few tabs open, Logic Pro in the background and there's no part of the computer that's hot right now. My lap would've melted if I was using my 2017 MacBook and it's in great shape! I want to say this computer is a beast but, to be honest, I haven't had a chance to stress test it yet. I've had the computer for less than a week. I will definitely keep you all updated.

Wow, I can't believe I typed all of this simply because I imagined Adam Young in his basement late at night with his MacBook Pro writing his magnificent blog posts that inspired me to start this blog in the first place. For whatever reason, it's a real vibe for me and as I was fumbling through Logic Pro, I had the idea to write a blog and all of this entry just poured out from my brain to this text box. I sincerely apologize to anyone reading this far and to my future self who probably just spent 20 minutes proofreading and fixing errors I made. I'd imagine all the run-on sentences are probably infuriating. I think I spent 40 minutes to an hour just writing this.

In conclusion, I'm writing blog posts again and plan to release new entries at least somewhat often. I have quite a few ideas of things I want to talk about, so you guys will get to pick my brain soon enough. In addition, I may go public about this blog. It is public but I announced it a long time ago and I wasn't very big. But with my podcast and additional following over the years, I may finally get some readers. I'd be surprised if more than 3 people have seen my blog which I'm not upset about. I'm treating this as my personal time capsule and it's fun to go back and read. In addition, I'm going to die someday. I don't know when and how, but it provides a little bit of comfort knowing a potential love one may find this one day after my unfortunate death and get hours of personal content that they can read over any time. I don't mean to get morbid and I don't mean to say my blog is the second coming of Christ. I don't know what I'm saying other than I hope you enjoy it. Anywho, I plan to make blog posts more coherent and not so all over the place. I went from being lazy/hating work, MacBook Pros, and then to my death, all in the same post. I just got so excited once I started typing and couldn't stop. More posts to come. Thank you and goodnight.

-Sincerely,

Jacob McDonnell

[cyanidekissesxoxo]

Part 2

So to begin with my frustration and head noise, I need to start with things I've already worked through and rationalized...

Starting off Sunday the 7th with hearing what sounded like the FaceBook heart bubbles pop up on SO's phone across the room, and then paying attention to see if any of his text noises (was texting coworkers about work schedule) or possibly other noises sounded like it, which I hadn't noticed before. The sound didnt go off again. Realized I don't pay any attention to anything that he does on his phone, ever, which is fine - dont really need to be any level of up in anyone's business if everything is cool. But also realized how it would seem odd if I tried to glimpse now and then to see what was up because I was uneasy, because we generally sit in our own spaces, and then realized I should probably step up trying to be closer/more cuddly more. So, I started implementing it then (because if you just plan to do something later, you realistically dont and nothing changes) and trying to be more communicative because he seemed mildly frustrated that night too, due to various things I knew that hadn't super brightened his mood understandably.

However, he set his phone down and turned the screen off when I came to sit by him, after just being on it before. He seemed fidgety and weird, and would pick it up occasionally, turn it on, look at FB for a second or scroll through YouTube for a second before setting it down again. If I got up to do something for a few minutes, hed pick it up and be on it consistently and fluidly again. Sit down, phone off, fidget. After I snuggled up and settled into reading a manga, he finally settled into watching YouTube videos (with volume on), which hadn't been the scenario before. So, I settled down and let him watch his video and show me different stuff about painting models which is a big thing hes into, and made a point to interact back.

But something kept nagging, so I did some investigating the next day to put my mind at ease, and discovered a new subscription to a new porn website and a payment of $20 made on the 7th (day after the gender reveal party too!) on top of the various searches of the regular porn stars that there are private saved galleries of masses of pictures of each one, which I never addressed my discomfort of and feeling that it's different than randomly looking up/at random, varied videos, and had previously half heartedly just tried to write it off and ignore it as something I felt stronger than I needed to or should; who am I to know if that focus on specific naked women and such galleries are a common occurrence?...

Anyway, in the moment, self esteem plummets, anger builds - I'm upset thinking "Didn't we already address spending money to see other bitches naked when you dont have enough money from paycheck to paycheck and have to borrow money?"... quick flashes of feeling lied to and not good enough, about an issue that had already been discussed between us and I thought an understanding and respect for my feelings about it reached, and that it wouldn't happen again...

After debating on several possible angry or retaliatory responses (including taking anonymous sexy pictures and selling them as well, tit for tat, and the possibility of making someone feel bad, I started trying to think on a different level, and in a different light. That this was his treating himself after his paycheck to something that made him happy apparently, and aside from the regular purchases of cigarettes and monster, I understand theres probably not a lot of self-treating, and even on an extremely tight budget, I guess its healthy to spend some money to make oneself happy once in a while, and maybe instead of either addressing it and receiving another promise of change (whether I wanted or expected it), or just burying it and letting it stew and bother me and have the unaddressed/unresolved upset offer a manner of coping solutions which would probably range from useless to rash and damaging to the relationship (including the brief perhaps I could instead focus inwards and try to figure out why this all bothered me so much and so consistently, and try addressing that.

So, I mused. The multitude of hundreds of saved videos/pictures of a small group of the same girls bothered me because it felt more like cheating - "I want to consistently see this female naked, and will follow for updates and new stuff over a long time period and several websites" - than just clicking on random videos when the mood strikes does, which it never has to me if it's not excessive... and made me feel inadequate and similar to as when I found out i wasnt the only girl a guy was messaging (which in such situations in the past, I either played games or just dipped out with little explanation).. the money spent on it bothered me for the additional fact that we're both struggling and I personally dont spend money on frivolous things for myself.

After coming to this conclusion, I realized the best thing I could do was to work on myself, understanding that I don't feel as pretty and capable and confident as I used to years ago, before I stopped doing my regular and intricate make-up and quit modeling - for multiple reasons, including pacifying and reassuring jealous exes and stopping all the unwanted guys from hitting on me (which is definitely not a goal to have again... it's annoying, being treated like meat or arm candy all the time), as well as becoming more tired as I threw myself more into work. Loving myself and being proud of myself is something I've been needing to do, beyond just trying to be able to rationally evaluate if my level of being bothered by these situations was simply based out of inadequacy and the need for someone else to make me feel like *enough* because I didnt on my own... but I also understand that you cant force or expect people to do things or not do things based on your own insecurities; if that is the reason why, it will only serve to cause more issues and push them away.

So, to work on myself... I went and bought an amazing smelling body spray from Bath & Body Works, and let myself know it was okay to take a small amount of a recent paycheck to treat oneself for one's happiness. On the way out, I even cheerfully declined the booth salespeople trying to rope me into their booth to buy things, with an assertive and cheerful, "No thank you! I'm on a time schedule, but have a lovely night!" and a big smile, where normally I would have sunk into my familiar social discomfort, spluttered "No thanks!" out awkwardly and scurried away... which brings me to another resolution I had:

To improve my outlook on things and my interactions with people. If I'm uncomfortable and upset, it continually affects me, and assumably those around me. For a healthy mind, happiness must be practiced in all situations.

My third awareness to address was my anxiety with waking up and communicating over the phone (text, message, calls) with people in an orderly time. Alarm set consistently every day, and incoming contacts replied to immediately or as soon after as possible, which I started that day as well.

Final adjustment was settling back into at least a basic beauty routine to start - hair straightened and not just thrown in a bun (I dont feel pretty with my hair pulled up anyway in most styles), and just foundation to start, which has been feeling good. Next paycheck, a small portion to get my hair cut and colored to something that makes me feel like I'm taking care of myself and pretty, and then working towards eyeliner and mascara. Waking up earlier consistently, this is feasible, and definitely makes a difference. Changed FB pictures to those that are more relevant to my current hair color, and that remind me of how good I'm capable of feeling about myself, without being too "sexy", as S/O has already been immensely uncomfortable with the self-adjustments I've made simply out of understanding what I need to do to have more self love, while I ensure nothing I do comes from a place of making anyone uncomfortable, untrusting, or jealous, which would not do the situation or my self healing any good, and is not the purpose.

So far, without outside stressors or challenges, I've been feeling good about these changes. I've spent a good portion of the night engrossed in finishing this, so I will finish tomorrow with the issues that have come up, and work through how I do and should feel about them.

[brywrites]

Delicious

Requested: Upon discovering Reid is struggling with an eating disorder, the Reader helps him to overcome it. Possible TW for eating disorders.

(I’m breaking my self-imposed tumblr ban to post this, as it’s National Eating Disorder Awareness week, and I wanted to get this up for the anon who requested it.)

She may not be a profiler, but she knows how to read people. Their body language, the words they do – or don’t – use. As an interview specialist for the Office of Victim Assistance, her job isn’t to explain what these behaviors mean, but to understand what they say about a person’s needs. She looks for the connections and builds bridges of empathy, meeting them halfway, and offering a helping hand. In the months since she’s been working with the BAU, she’s learned much about interacting with people. They learn from each other, and she comes to understand not only their victims, but the team she’s now a part of. Her friends.

And while she’s no profiler, she knows when something is up with one of her friends. Which is why it doesn’t take long for her to realize something isn’t right with Reid. It begins when he withdraws from them, turning down their offers to hang out less and less. He’s never been one for drinks after work, but now he doesn’t even want to meet her for Doctor Who marathons, or to go to their favorite coffee shop. At first she attributes it to work, he always says he’s busy, and she assumes that maybe he’s writing a book or getting another degree.

Maybe it’s just stress, she thinks, when the ever-present bags under his eyes grow darker, and he begins to look more and more tired. She hears Morgan ask him more than once if it’s nightmares that have him looking so exhausted. He only ever shrugs and mumbles a non-answer. She worries she’s losing her best friend to reasons she cannot name, the man she’s harbored a deep affection for for months.

Then his wardrobe changes. Gone are the tight shirts and fitted cardigans, replaced by baggy, oversized sweaters, and button-downs that are far too big for him. It’s this shift that makes it harder for her to tell he’s lost weight. It shows in his face, the hollows of his cheeks. In his wrists, when he rolls up his sleeves. Though he’s much taller than her, he suddenly seems so very small. Fragile, as though he might break under the weight of the world he seems to be carrying on his shoulders. His eyes no longer light up when he talks about things he loves, the excitement is gone from his voice. He seems altogether hollow, empty. Devoid of all that makes him Reid.

It worries her immensely, but he always dodges questions about his health. Garcia asks if he’s sick, after delving into his medical records but finding nothing conclusive. She sees him eat lunch when they’re in the office, he doesn’t miss days of work for doctor’s appointments, and JJ swears there’s no way it’s an addiction problem. Y/N takes the hint and decides not to pry into that.

On a case in Minnesota, they stay in an overbooked hotel, and she ends up sharing a room with Reid. After breakfast with the team, he excuses himself back to their room. They’re all supposed to head out to the precinct together, and when he doesn’t come back after ten minutes, she goes to check on him.

“Reid?” she calls, pushing the door shut behind her. There’s no answer. He’s not on the couch or either of the beds. The door to the bathroom is ajar, the light on. “Reid?” Immediately she knows that something is wrong. Rushing in, she finds him lying on the tile floor, and a cry leaves her throat of its own accord. Two fingers pressed to his throat, she can feel his pulse. Slow, but still there. “Please open your eyes, please please open your eyes.”

It takes a minute, but finally he does, staring up at her through hazy vision.

“Oh thank god,” she breathes. “Reid, you were unconscious. You need to see a doctor.” She reaches for the cell phone in her pocket, but his hand grabs her arm. While his grip is shaky, she doesn’t fight him.

“Please, don’t,” he rasps. The connection is clear. She knows, something isn’t right. Call it instinct. Intuition. Profiling.

“I’m going to need you to tell me what’s going on,” she says. “If you won’t see a doctor, I need you to at least be honest with me.”

Very slowly, he sits up. “I… I threw up. That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out. Um… I don’t think I hit my head hard or anything.”

“How long has this been going on?”

He looks away. “A while.” Pauses. Then, chokes out, “I don’t know how to stop!”

And she understands. She holds his hand as he sits there, sobbing. “I know what I’m doing, I know, but I can’t stop it anymore. I’m so scared, and I’m so tired. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t know how to keep living anymore.” They sit on the bathroom floor and she hugs him as he cries, the sharp blades of his shoulders easily felt through his shirt. After calling JJ to say that he’s sick and she’s going to keep an eye on him, she gets him some water and they sit on the bed and talk.

They talk through how bad it’s gotten and how he’s feeling. She speaks to him gently, softly, as though even her words might be too abrasive for him at this moment. He’s ashamed by what he admits, but she accepts it without judgment. It began, he says, with a diet and an exercise plan. Never has been secure about his looks or his body, and he wanted to try and get in shape, thinking maybe that would boost his confidence. At some point, that stopped being enough. Then the purging began. After restricting food for a certain amount of time, he would lose control and binge. The guilt and shame would lead to another purge. That’s all he really wanted.

Control.

If he could control his weight, his food, he could at least control something. In a job where he had to react to the choices of others, in a family where he’d been powerless to help his mother or stop his father from leaving, in a world where he’d constantly been bullied and beaten and hurt, he just needed a way to cope. Unfortunately, he’d turned to an eating disorder. Bulimia. It wasn’t a choice he’d made, but he no longer had control over it. It had control over him.

“Reid, I think you need to see a specialist,” she says, when he’s finished. “Believe me, you’re my friend, and I care about you. I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m here to support you and listen to you, and do everything I can, but you need help. Help that I’m not qualified to provide.” When he tries to resist, she gets out her phone and pulls up facts to rattle off to him. Facts have a way of getting through to him.

Bulimia causes tooth decay, gum disease, tears in the esophagus, anemia, heart failure, and death. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness, at 20%.

“I need you here,” she tells him. “I need you alive. Please let me help you.” Finally, he agrees. They schedule an appointment with a doctor together. When they get back to DC, she drives him there. A referral is made to a treatment team. She drives him to those appointments as well, sits in the lobby of the hospital with books. In the car, she plays his favorite songs until he begins to open up to her, nearly two months into the biweekly appointments. They talk endlessly, and in those conversations, she can see him coming back to her. The light begins to return to his eyes.

The dietician gives him meal plans, and in an effort to keep him accountable, she tries to make it fun. Several times a week, she comes over to cook for him – and tries to teach him what she can. They both learn that his natural skills in chemistry don’t translate well in the kitchen, and after he manages to burn even spaghetti, he decides to stick to tasks like cutting vegetables and measuring out ingredients. The repetitive motions are soothing, he tells her. Relaxing. They often end up laughing for one reason or another. She sits with him as he eats, talking to keep his mind off of the meals he struggles to get through. His therapist says he’s making improvements.

They experiment in social settings, and they experiment with food. When they browse through bookstores, he picks up cookbooks. She tries to show him how to do things like ice cupcakes the way the do in pastry shops, with a piping bag rather than a knife. They end up making a mess, and it doesn’t take long before the frosting is all over their hands, and he’s dabbing some on her nose as she reaches out to smear some on his cheek.

“It’s delicious,” he tells her, licking frosting from his thumb. That’s how life should be. Delicious. Filled with sweet memories and the sweetest sounds of laughter.

It takes months, but the weight he’s lost is gradually gained back. Reid no longer looks so ill and exhausted. He looks healthy again. Returned to the world of the living. He exists among the vibrant things of the world. He is one of those vibrant things. Her heart rejoices at each little victory. She keeps her promise, and is there every step of the way. As much as she can she encourages him and supports him. So easily does she fall into his life that she is taken aback when she realizes just how much time they spend together.

Even when they’re not at work, she’s with him. Driving him to and from appointments. Meeting him for coffee and movies. Cooking dinner with him. Eating dinner with him. It’s rather domestic, and no matter how hard she tries to push away that thought, it continues to return of its own volition. One night, after a particularly challenging dinner for him, he asks her to read to him.

“I just need something to take my mind off the way I’m feeling,” he says. “Would you stay? Please?” As if he had to ask. There is no hesitation in her agreement. She sits on the couch with a copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles and reads aloud. At one point, he wordlessly reclines, resting with his head in her lap. She stumbles over the sentence she’s reading, but quickly recovers. The words blur together, and she finds herself reading on autopilot, not really processing. Able to focus only on the fact that his head is in her lap, his eyes closed, the most relaxed expression on his face.

Her heart longs for him. She forces the longing away.

More time passes. He laughs more. When the team goes out together, he comes along. The others seem to notice this change, but decide not to bring it up. Reid appears to be grateful for that. The oversized sweaters slowly give way to the cardigans he used to wear. The man she knew returns, burning brighter than before. There is a confidence he has found through months and months of therapy that he did not possess previously.

To her quiet delight, when his appointments become weekly, then every other week, he still finds ways to spend time with her. Asking her to come over, asking her to go out. She is the one person he goes to when he’s struggling and needs support.

Finally, she asks, “Reid, why me? Why did you open up to me, and not to JJ or Morgan?”

Reid sets down the knife he’s been cutting carrots with, and his cheeks turn red. The answer wavers on the tip of his tongue as he decides how to respond. “Well… because you found me at the right time. But also because I – I’ve always, um, I’ve always liked you. Really liked you. And I know you’d never return that feeling, but I knew I could trust you. You’ve always treated me differently than the rest of the team has, and I needed someone like you.”

Her mouth falls open. “Wait, you – you like me?”

Evading her gaze, he turns back to the carrots. “Well, yeah. Of course I do. I’ve been meaning to say thank-you, by the way. I know this hasn’t been easy, but I really do appreciate all that you’ve done for me. I don’t know where I would be without you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Spencer, I love you!” she blurts out. Because how does he not see it? “I’ve loved you from the moment we became friends.”

It’s his turn to look startled. “What? Wait, really?” She nods sheepishly, and a look of indignation crosses his face. “Why didn’t you tell me? All this time, and you never told me?”

Mirroring that gesture from so many months ago, she reaches for his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. “You were struggling. You need help. You needed space to heal, and I wanted to give you that space. What you needed then was a friend and a support system. The last thing I wanted to do was throw a relationship at you, My loving you wasn’t going to heal you, so I tried to love you the best way I could. I tried to be there for you. But I never stopped loving you.”

The vexation vanishes. “Thank you,” he says quietly. ‘Thank you for doing that.” He leans down and kisses her forehead. She then stretches up to kiss his lips. It feels like coming home, and in those tender moments, she knows that he is back. He is living and thriving and surviving, and while there will still be bad days and bad weeks, she is more than willing to face them with him. If it means he’ll be there, she’ll cross the world a hundred times over.

The stir-fry on the stove burns. Neither minds too much. He orders them takeout, something he wouldn’t have done before.

They sit and eat together, and it’s her heart that feels so full that night. When his mouth is on hers, their hands roaming freely, she touches him with such care. Not because he needs her to prove that he’s beautiful, but because she knows such beautiful things ought to be treated with such reverence.

With her, he lets down his walls. He lets her in, lets her see him as he his. And her life is so much more delicious with him in it.

[smallblanketfort]

i'm so excited to see u back. and i'm excited to read stories and see art. i hope you don't mind if i send in anons too. could i have a cool anon name? would you mind if i made this a safe place again? for me to be soft and pretentious and vulnerable? also i want some... advice? idk. what are your best ways to combat depression that makes u unmotivated? like can't get out of bed unmotivated? and how do u create when scared? really just. mainly i don't know how to cope. thank u - sunflower anon

people say that depression is that you hate life and hate yourself and don't want to live but man. i love life soooooo much. it's so beautiful. like it's shitty. but still. i just am too scared and unmotivated to go and see it. i'm too scared to create i'm too scared to see things and talk to people and look at the beauty and i'm far too unmotivated and that's one of my biggest problems. idk what i'm ON about i just have had an awful day i hope ur ok with me venting 

ok ok one last thing feel free to answer these all in one post, if u can. i have constant dissatisfaction. i used to write. when i'd get upset i'd write everything that's wrong and find a conclusion. and that was good and still is sometimes but i'm very sensitive. and i LOVE when i can understand things. but lately i just haven't been able to understand. it's been really confusing nd i can't understand what's happening with myself and others and i hate it. it makes my chest hurt 

please. ily. it’s yours. do with this blog as you will.

i ended up writing a lot (too much?) so

(im bolding things after writing this, bc i just wrote waaayy too many words to say very few things. so im not trying to be pretentious, mostly just pointing out to myself that i only needed a sentence per paragraph. anyway.)

tbh this is literally so relatable, i found myself driving circles around a parking lot wondering if i could move somewhere that would bring me satisfaction. if i could move to nashville or san diego or portland or nyc and get a good job like the one i have now, if i went to more concerts and went on more hikes, and if maybe the sky or the different scent of air would make everything better. cause there are places in which im happy to be alive, and i want to be, and i appreciate these things. but really, im still going to be me, it doesnt change that i was at my lowest in malibu. i am what i am. the thought of the future is terrifying bc i have so much i want to accomplish, but i am terrified bc i know i don’t have the energy or willpower. i want to crawl out of my skin. anyway,,

personally, i am very Bad with motivation. i have many projects im dying to finish, but two years later, im still thinking about them. the time elapsed feeds anxiety... the more i leave, the more i still want to crawl out of my skin. so this is how i get things done: they’re have-to’s. the only reason i am able to get out of bed is because my job depends on it. bc my parents will be Disappointed. bc graduating college depends on it. there is no beauty behind me getting to things. it’s all fear, but some fear saves me. i have to let it settle over my shoulders, and just when i feel like i am breaking, to switch my brain off and shove up, even if it’s breaking my heart. (i write this on a monday night, i have midterms this week including a 12 page research paper due and i havent started even choosing a topic. and so i sit here. writing about finding motivation. yep.) for some people, it’s getting a pet to have to get up and take care of. forcing yourself to make plans and keep them bc they will be hurt if you cancel. sometimes it’s anger. when i am angry, i know i need to use the energy or i will end up raging and breaking things, so i clean everything. 

so perhaps making creative moments “have-to”s. i recently read someone saying they write for 20 minutes in the morning and 20 minutes in the evening and it made me realize i dont have a “i dont have time” excuse. write something. anything.

so really just. do. it. do the thing. 

sometimes maybe it’s in acceptance. acknowledging that this wont be the moment you get a ton done or come to an understanding about xyz. and saying that it’s okay. you’re enough. celebrate every tiny victory. sometimes i fall too hard into that, so sometimes i try to keep even my passive times productive. for example, when i scroll tumblr mindlessly, i tag posts according to the creative concepts i have floating around. for example, i have a story i want to write, and i’m tagging everything that fits the aesthetic or serves as inspiration with “n”. makes me feel productive. here, i have opportunities like this, to think through my actions and the way i work. makes me feel like i’m thinking.

also accept that sometimes you wont come to a conclusion, or maybe your creative endeavor is going to turn out like shit. give yourself that permission. to create shitty art sometimes. also !! this quote !!!

my last thought is feeling like you have an audience. like you wrote a nice chunk for me. keep writing on blogs and social media and to people you value. i have two friends with whom i can discuss anything, particularly things that contribute to identity or worldview etc. and those late night text conversations, or simply sharing a screenshot, can help me to keep thinking and coming to understandings. similarly, podcasts and npr. sometimes listening is easier than reading.

over all tho, just generally take care of yourself. make sure you’re eating/sleeping/moving. treat yourself gently. you have time. it’s okay.

i would really really like to hear what other people say tho, bc i clearly have no answers. i feel very stuck and nervously so. it makes my skin crawl, so any others’ thoughts are very welcome :) and do come back, sunflower.

[aaliyahhill]

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Breaking It Down:  From Despair to Here.

A Prologue to Madness.

I can’t honestly remember the last time I was truly happy. I don't actually believe this happiness exists. As humans, we need to suffer to understand what it is to love and to be joyful. It’s just with some of us, the suffering presides over everything else. It’s an overarching numbness that is almost impossible to explain. In the last 6 months, I have been fighting with myself more than I usually do. There have been events that have tilted and knocked me, and helped me to prove to myself and remind me what a worthless individual I am. There have been moments of utter confusion and despair within social occasions I should have been enjoying. There have been many, many moments when I have truly wanted to disappear and sometimes physically have. There have been evenings where I have drunk myself away from the noise in my head to the point of blackout. And there have been very real thoughts of suicide and and very real episodes of self harm. There have been a few hours of clarity when I have decided to get on with what I have to do that day, and there have been days where I have actually been OK. But there have been many more days where I haven’t been OK at all.

I am writing this down because I want other people to feel like they are not alone. I don't need sympathy and I don't need people changing the way they behave around me now that this is out in the open. I have tried searching for a similar story, a real honest story that I can cling to, a story where suddenly everything is strategic, there is a plan, the problem is solved, but I have failed.

This blog will not provide answers - it is a work in progress, as am I. As much as I want to forget the past week, I need to remember it. I need to make sense of what has happened. And I need to explain to all the people that love me, and all the people that I have loved, what has happened. This story doesn’t start on the 10th October 2017. It starts a lot longer ago than that.

I had been in the throws of an episode of depression for about 3 weeks before ‘the thing’ happened. I hadn’t slept much. I had been ill, a slight cold, something that looking back may have been a sign to stop. I had attended a few social gatherings I couldn’t cope with, I had got blackout drunk and screamed at two of my closest friends. I was behaving increasingly irrationally and I couldn’t see any further than the next minute. I had cut my legs with a pair of scissors and counted how many painkillers I had in the house. I had googled how many it would take for me not to wake up. I didn’t have enough. I had run a really bad marathon the Sunday before, because I was exhausted. I had been kept awake the night before the race by suicidal thoughts; hallucinations of me rigging up a ligature in the bedroom I was staying in. I had stood at the edge of the road and thought about throwing myself in front of the cars. I had stood at the edge of the underground platform and thought about throwing myself in front of the tube. I was completely terrified of myself. I was a danger to myself. I was walking through treacle and trying to pretend that this would pass. It always passes.

During this time I made notes, I wrote a lot and I will continue to write. I have gone back and put it into some sort of coherent structure. To help myself understand, and to help you try and understand. I’ve left some of the writing as it was and it’s chaotic. There is no conclusion to this story.

It’s worth mentioning that before this happened, I had been on the drug Champix - a drug that is supposed to help you give up smoking. I had been on it for around 6 weeks at this point and had stopped smoking. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that this medication fuelled the fire of what happened. But that story is for another time. It was always going to happen.

Monday 9th October 2017

Today was the day. It was the day I had a full on breakdown, the breakdown that I would actually take notice of, because the ones before had been numbed and ignored and poked into the inside pocket of my outdoor coat for years. This one was 20 years in the making. I was on Tottenham Court Road. I had just come out of a meeting. I went looking for some pillows for my bed, because the pillows on my bed had felt like they were made of stones the night before when I couldn’t sleep, between terrors. They felt like the stones the Romans used to make flour, the ones you read about in the books at school, and they felt like it on my hands and also in my mouth but I hadn’t bitten them. It just felt like that in the inside of my mouth and I could taste blood. Between the terrors. But every time I went in a shop, I was overwhelmed by pillows and types of pillows. I want the pillows you get in the hotels. Not the duck down ones, the really firm ones that are also duck down but also something else. And also, there were people; normal, happy people and couples, really middle class ones who were very attractive and happy and had worked hard to be that attractive and happy and they were feathering their nests and making a home, and I wanted to kill them and be them at the same time.  I was in Heals. I was hungry so I ate a sandwich that I had in my bag in the toilet cubicle at Heals. I ate it really quietly because I didn’t want people outside looking at me or the people in Heals finding out. They would tell me to leave because I wasn’t good enough to be there. I also went in Habitat and in Dwell and The Bed Shop, but I was overwhelmed by pillows and people, and I was scared of the shop assistants, plus I kept forgetting what I was actually doing.

When I left Heals without pillows I started to cry on Tottenham Court Road and I couldn’t understand why. I couldn’t stop crying. Or I would stop crying, but then about a minute later it would start again. I stood still for a long time and couldn’t work out where I was or what I was doing. I got on the tube and was crying. Nobody said anything. I cried through Liverpool Street and managed to get to Hackney Central and I got off the train and went to the pub.

In the pub, I wrote the words below. Because this is how I felt. I haven’t edited it because I think the contents speak for themselves.

****

Reality check - a side note to how I am feeling. I am living in fear of myself. I want to hurt myself. I think about it every day, maybe 8 or 9 times a day. I watch the cars and the trains. I have a whole drawer of codeine - I have been buying a 16 pack every time I go past a Boots. I have self harmed with scissors, something I haven’t done for 18 years. I cut my legs. The things I rely on to run. I have looked on the internet for anything I can take that will make me fall asleep and not wake up but has to be 100%, no accidents or pain or anything. I have eaten my sandwich for lunch in a toilet because I don’t want people to look at me, because I am disgusting for having a sandwich. I go in food shops and cannot make a decision about what to buy, so I buy nothing and go home hungry. If I buy something, it’s what I think I should buy because I saw someone else buy it and it goes mouldy in the fridge. I’m not hungry anyway.

I go into other shops and spend £60 on stuff I don't need and I don't know why. I buy things on Amazon. Lots of things. I go into catatonic states of staring at nothing, I miss my stop multiple times. I go to the pub and sit there for 3 hours on my own because I am afraid to go home because I don’t want my housemates to see me or talk to me because they are probably going to tell me to move out because I am so fucked up. I have night terrors and can’t sleep. I am always tired and I always have a headache. I hallucinate that I am setting up ligatures in my bedroom, that a white snake is trying to bite my face, I physically jump away from imaginary things like the snake, to wake myself, but I am not asleep. Lots of times, when I have to speak to a person in a shop or in the world outside my bedroom, the world that I have become so afraid of, I pretend to be on a phone call so I won’t have to look at them and can just say “Sorry, hang on” and then mutter what I want at the shop or outside person, and carry on my fake phone call, not look them in the eye and and walk away with my useless purchase.

Sometimes I feel a manic push to be kind, and then I ask people around me if they are OK, but this doesn’t happen often. When it does, it happens one person after another for a whole morning on the tube usually, and also when I am running a marathon or something, and it makes me feel amazing for a minute.

Sometimes I feel a calmness that I know is the feeling that some people get shortly before they commit suicide. I know because I have tried to commit suicide before. The thing I feel the most though, is fear, in my heart and in my stomach and that’s all the time really. I don't know what I am scared of but I am fucking terrified. It’s next level fear.

And to my friends, this. I don’t reply to your texts and I hate our whatsapp groups and I want to leave all of them, so I don't reply. Every message makes me angry and also sad but mainly angry and also I don't care. I am really glad you’re all having such a fucking easy, funny, nice life. I can’t concentrate. I am not part of your group anymore because I am different. I am damaged. I’m not who I pretended to be when I first joined the group. This is the real me. The person who hates people who are happy. I really do. I fucking HATE couples. I hate them, and wish they were dead or would cheat on each other and both find out because that’s fucking life.

I don't want to go for a drink or coffee or a run or a catch up or a talk or vent or whatever language you put it in, I want to vanish. I am vicious. You didn’t contact me before someone told you they thought something might be wrong, and so don't fucking contact me now. You can’t ‘cheer me up’. Things you say make me cringe and you’re lying that it’s not a burden because it is. I am carrying it  around and it is killing me. It is a burden. I’ll prove it’s a burden, when you either stop talking to me because you’re so bored of what a fucking idiot I am, or I fucking top myself.

I don’t believe the things you say when I drunkenly manage to tell you that I am scared I might kill myself, or I cry at nothing, don't fucking touch me.  I come home shitfaced for 4 days in a row because the only thing that shuts the howling in my head and the clawing in my stomach is alcohol, and for a while I can sleep without terror. I don't deserve any help, but I so desperately want it but I don’t know what help I need. I should be able to control this because I am a 36 year old woman who owns her own business, who runs marathons, whose holiday looked GREAT on instagram.

This is so embarrassing.

I wish I was covered in scales or it came up in a rash or was a tumour so you could see it. I’ve gone a few days without alcohol - maybe it’s that? It’s not. It’s me.

How to act normal I’ve got very good at pretending over the years.  I am OK at work most of the time, but I work for myself, so I can make excuses to leave a place or not turn up at all, or I can go to the toilet and do a cry and I always have make up or I used to, but now I don’t carry it because I don’t care what I look like and I don't really wash or brush my hair unless I have to.

I tell some people I work with that I am depressed because it’s obvious from my face and I have given up smoking, and they are also depressed, everyone is, so I am not weird, but I say I am dealing with it, which is a lie, and then I say something funny and everyone laughs and goes away.

I can do this very well in the mornings, but in the afternoons when I am tired, something takes over that I can’t control. I am losing the ability to communicate. I forget words and sentences and names. I have no patience. I can still put on a show, but in the afternoons crying starts without warning - this happens a lot and then I stop it and then it starts again and I try and stop it but can’t, and I decide if someone asks me if I am OK on the tube or when I am in the pub hiding, I will say “yes, I am fine, my dog just died” and do a smile, but nobody ever really asks and I don't have a dog. And on it goes.

I have completely lost grip on reality in this sense. I am living day to day. My to do list goes undone and is re-written day to day. My work gets done. My meetings get done. My afternoons are blurred but they get done. When I get home, sometimes I see my housemate and she is so kind. She is kind because she has been here before when I tried too kill myself, but there is nothing she can do and she knows it. Sometimes I am fucking vicious to her, when I am drunk. We don't talk about these times the next day. I go in my room and shut the door and nobody bothers me.

****

When I have finished writing this down, I go home and I am shaky and fogged by wine and no dinner so I am crying but I don't feel hungry, and my housemates ask me if I am OK. I say no and I go straight to bed. I think the reality of the situation will frighten them. I set my alarm for 8am to call the doctor. I need to see a doctor. Today is world mental heath awareness day.

Tuesday 10th October 2017

I wake up at 8am and call the doctor. I feel awful because I haven’t had anything to eat but I need to call the doctor. I wait for 20 minutes on the line and speak to a doctor. I tell her I am very depressed and need to come in and see her. She says I can come at 11am. I get back in bed and set an alarm for 10am. I pack my bag for work. Meeting at 12. Important meeting at 12. I get to the doctor. I go in and see her and start crying and explain what happened with the pillows yesterday. She asks me what I want her to do about it. I say I don’t fucking know. She asks me if I have had suicidal thoughts. I say yes, all the time. She looks a bit scared and asks me a bit about my past, have I been on medication before, and I say yes. She writes me a prescription and sends it to Boots in Hackney. She says that I need to call the Crisis helpline and talk to a mental health professional. I tell her that I have a meeting at 12 and I will do it after. She tells me I have to do it now and she will sign me off work. I say NO I HAVE AN IMPORTANT MEETING AT 12 and I will do it after. She says if I don't do it, she will have to take action to hospitalise me. She doesn’t call them herself. She writes 2 numbers on a piece of paper. I stuff them in my bag and leave.

I get to the train station and stare at the tracks and feel like I am watching myself in a film. I get on the train and start crying. Need to pull it together, important meeting at 12. I get to Liverpool Street and go in Costa. Important meeting at 12. Skinny latte please. I start crying. I can’t do it. I am scared of all the people in the station and I feel sick with anxiety, so I call work and tell my friend what is happening and I can’t breathe properly because I am crying so much. She is very kind and she says she will take the meeting. I have to sit on the floor because I feel very sick and I am crying and I am embarrassed because I just called my work crying. I am sat on the floor of the station crying. Nobody asks me if I am OK. I get the numbers out of my bag and I call the first number. It is wrong. It is a fax number. I call the second number. It is wrong. It is the Crisis Home Care number. I am like a little mouse on the phone because I don't know what to say and then when it’s the wrong number I get very angry and hang up and walk to the shop and buy cigarettes and go outside and smoke my first cigarette in 21 days and cry because I can’t even fucking do that right, and I try and search for the right number on my phone but I can’t find it.

I look at all the people at Liverpool Street Station but nobody looks at me. I find a number. I call it again. It’s the Crisis Home Care number again. The lady says she has been trying to call me back after I hung up. She talks to me about what has happened and then says I need to go to the hospital to see her right now. The hospital is in Homerton. I have to wait for a train for 15 minutes and I think about who I can call, I think I need someone to come with me, but everyone will be busy and I don't want to worry them so I decide not to call anyone. I have to hold onto the handrail because my legs keep buckling. I can’t remember where the hospital is or the name of the lady and I get confused on the way. I have lived here for 4 years but I can’t remember the way. I come to realise I am walking very, very slowly and it feels like I am in a film. My face feels sore and my eyes hurt.

When I get to the hospital, I find the mental health unit and I sit there and a lady comes out and is kind to me and takes me in a room and talks to me for and hour and a half and I cry a lot and I am honest with her and she says have I picked up my prescription and what is it for and I say no and I don't know what it is for, because I haven’t asked what it is for and I wasn’t told. She cancels the prescription and says she wants me to see a doctor before they give me anything else and she explains what has happened to me, which is a mental breakdown, and says she is going too put me into the care of the mental health clinic and I can stay at the hospital or I can go home and have the Crisis team come and see me. I want to go home. I want to go home to my family. I am very, very scared. I feel embarrassed and scared and I feel like I am making a fuss, but I also feel hopeless and very tired and confused. She takes some phone numbers - my mums and my housemates. She gives me some sleeping tablets and then she sends me home and I leave the hospital and call my work and tell them I have to go home for a little while because I am not very well, and I call my mum and tell her what has happened and that I think I need to come home, and I feel like this is happening to someone else and I buy spaghetti in a tin and some bread and I go home and I call my housemate and tell her what has happened. I tell her I need to take all my pain killers that I have been storing and I need her to look after them for me because otherwise the Crisis team will take them away. I have a lot of pain killers stored away.

The Crisis people call me. Am I OK? Do I need them to come round? What time can they come round tomorrow? They will come round between 11am and 2pm tomorrow. I feel like I am in a film. I feel calm. I get a text from a friend who has also been suffering with their mental health in the last few weeks. A few weeks ago, I went to meet him and we had a walk and a glass of wine and a chat and I hope I helped a little bit. I go and meet him and tell him, and he buys pizza and is kind and offers no answers, he is just kind and makes me laugh a few times. He makes me eat the pizza. I feel better. I feel like I am floating above myself looking down at me talking. I don't feel like I am ill. I feel a fraud. I feel better. I go home, I take 2 sleeping tablets and I sleep for so long. I don't wake up or dream.

Wednesday 11th October 2017

I wake up and I feel tired. I watch something on my iPad and eat a bowl of crunchy nut cornflakes and congratulate myself on eating them. I feel better. I feel like a fraud. There is nothing wrong with me, I just had a bad couple of days and I feel embarrassed. I start to cry. I want to know when I will be better and I want to be able to work. I am letting so many people down. I look at my computer but I can’t think of words very well. I feel like I am looking down on myself in a film. I want to go home but I have to wait for the Crisis people. They come and they look at me, and ask me if I have had any bad thoughts and I say not really but I am very tired and can I go home now? I ask them when I will be better and how I can get better. They look blankly at me. They say I need to remove myself from stressful situations and do things I love. They say I need to rest my brain and re-connect with the things I love. I feel like I love nothing. I don’t know what to do.

They say that they need a doctor to come and see me and that he will be able to prescribe me some anti-depressants, and I know I need them to get through the next few weeks in case I feel like I did on Monday again. I say I want to go home today. They say that if they can talk to the Dorset team I can go home tomorrow and I can be referred there and they will take care of me, but they want me to stay at here for the night and they want to see me again tomorrow. I find out that the anti-depressants that the doctor I saw on Tuesday had prescribed were Citalopram. I have taken them before. I took them for 4 years after I tried to kill myself at university. They want me to talk to a doctor before they prescribe them again. They will come back tomorrow morning  early so I can go home. When they leave I lay on the sofa and when I wake up it is dark. I am very tired. I eat a sweet potato pie. I watch a film about Anorexia and I take sleeping tablets and I go to bed.

Thursday 12th October 2017

I wake up late and I feel better. I put my running gear on and I eat a bowl of crunchy nut cornflakes. I wait for the Crisis people, and when they come I say I feel better. I ask when I will be well enough to go back to work. They say they don’t know. I say look I am eating food! And I am going to go for a run! I feel like I am looking down on myself like in a film, but I feel better. I feel like a fraud. There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel like I should go back to work. But in my gut, in my bellyhole I know there is something wrong with me because I feel like I am looking down on myself, like in a film. They tell me they have referred me to the Dorset Crisis team and that I can go home today and then I need to call them and they will look after me. They tell me the doctor there will help me to get the drugs I need. They leave and I go for a run and it’s hard but its the best thing I can do for myself now. I have a 100 mile run in the diary for the 21st October. I need to be well enough to do it. If I don’t do it, it will kill me and it will have won.  

I am finding that simple things like running and making a bowl of cereal are hard. I have a shower for the first time in 2 days. I have forgotten to have a shower for 2 days. I pack my suitcase and I go to the train station and I get in the train and it is packed. I have a sandwich in my bag but I am scared to eat it in case it annoys the man who is sitting next to me. I get up and go and stand by the door to eat it. When I get to the station I meet my mum and she says I look well, better than she thought I would look. I tell her all about the Crisis teams. I ring the Dorset team and they say they will be around tomorrow to see me. We drive home and I feel silly and pathetic and very, very depressed. I don't remember what happens when we get home really. I just feel very, very depressed. We watch some telly and I go to bed.

Friday 13th October 2017

I wake up and I feel empty and useless and awful. I cry. I sit on the edge of my bed and look out the window and cry. I don't know why I am crying. I go downstairs and I see my mum and start to cry. She gives me a cuddle and I eat a bowl of museli. She starts telling me what she is doing that day. I am not really listening. We go for a walk in the woods and I don't know what to say. I don't want to say anything. I feel like I am in shock. I feel like I am looking down on myself. Like in a film. When we get home, I decide to walk into town to buy a book I want to read about a woman who has survived Schizophrenia. She makes me take the dog and the the dog annoys me the whole way there, and I just feel so sad, and sometimes I say horrible things to the dog. I used to love the dog. Now I love nothing. I see a dead badger on the side of the road. I cry about the dead badger. I walk round like a zombie and I can’t find the book. I sit in the Waitrose carpark for 25 minutes and stare at the grass and cry a bit. Then I walk the dog home and no, I don't want any lunch, thank you, and then I go upstairs and sit on the end of my bed and my mum comes upstairs and she asks me if she can come in, and she does and I am crying.

I talk to my mum about how I feel, and we talk for 20 minutes and I feel better. I tell her I want things to be normal. I want to feel like life is normal. I say we should go to the pub for a drink later - that is normal. I look at her holiday pictures and she looks at my pictures of Scotland. My friend David Harvey texts me and I say let’s go for a run on Sunday in the forest. I say yes I would like that. I am waiting for the Crisis team. They are late. My mum says I should do some ironing to distract myself. I do all of it. I look at the iron and think about how it would feel if I put it on my arm. The Crisis team are late.

When she arrives, there is just one lady from the Crisis team and I don’t like her. My mum sits in on our conversation and I can see her recoil when I talk about killing myself and she looks like she might cry. I don't feel like I want to kill myself now, I just feel like I want to move forward but I don't know how to do that and if I am going to feel like this forever what is the point. I think that, I don’t say it. I ask the Crisis lady when I will feel better. She says she doesn’t know, but that she will get a doctor to some round tomorrow to write me a prescription for anti-depressants. He will come between 10am and 12pm. She leaves and we go for a walk with the dog and I am silent and then we go to the pop up brewery for a pint, and I feel out of place and that I can’t make conversation with their friends, because I am here because I am depressed and that is embarrassing. We go home and eat dinner and then we watch rubbish TV and I go to bed. I am sleeping well because I have sleeping tablets. There are no terrors and no dreams. I need to get some more. You can get them over the counter. They are an allergy tablet - I need to get some more - so I tell myself I will do that tomorrow. I want to go and see my sister and her husband and my nieces and nephews tomorrow because they make me feel happy. I also want to run tomorrow. I cannot let this take running away from me.  

Saturday 14th October 2017

When I wake up I feel better. I want to go for a run. I want to feel better. The doctor they are sending round is going to be late so I have some breakfast and drive to the beach and I run for 6 miles and get a coffee and and drive home and have a shower. I feel OK. Not brilliant, but OK. Running will save me. Autumn 100 next weekend. The doctor comes. He is lovely but he is strange. He asks me everything about my history including school and university. I have a therapist that I talk to once a week and so I don't really want to be talking about this stuff with a stranger. The Crisis team didn’t talk to me about this. He is kind though, and he tells me that there are fundamental changes that I need to make to my life to help myself. One of these changes is most probably to leave London. I know this is true. London is killing me. He is not the first person to say this. He writes me a prescription for Citalopram. 7 days worth. That means I need to go to the doctor in London. I sign myself out of their care. I tell them I don’t need them anymore and that I will be OK. I decide I will go back to London on Wednesday. I feel like a cop out. I feel like it’s a big fuss over nothing. There’s not been anything really wrong with me in the first place I don’t think. I feel OK. I feel like I am looking down on myself. Like in a film. I get my stuff and I drive to my sisters. I love my sister and her husband and I love my nieces and nephews. We all get on the sofa and watch films and my sisters husband makes me laugh and I feel l happy. I go to bed and take 2 sleeping pills. I feel OK. I feel like I am pleasantly distracted. But only distracted, not better. It’s still there. I feel like I want to start the change that will see me moving to be closer to them. I wonder if this will help me feel better. I have no idea how to feel better.

Sunday 15th October

My friend David comes over to my sisters and we all 3 go for a run in the forest. David is so kind to me even though he doesn’t really know name and we run for 10 miles in the forest, David, my sister and me, and we chat about races we have done and the Autumn 100 and it’s just the best time and I feel calm and in control of myself. I feel like there is nothing wrong with me. I feel like a fraud. I need to buy a coat for the race I am doing the following weekend so we go to the outdoor centre and me and my sister talk about running and I buy the coat I need. As we drive home my brother-in-law is singing along to songs from the musicals on the radio and my nieces and my sister are singing along, and it makes me so happy but so sad that I don't have a family unit like theirs. I feel like the car is full of love. I feel like I am loved.

Monday 16th October

I have made the decision that I will run the Autumn 100, and that I will return to London on Wednesday. I need to get on with my life and get on with my job. I need to start putting the pieces into place that will see me leave the city and move out to the forest and the sea. I don't know how I am going to do this, but I am going to start piecing it together. I go out with my mum. I don't feel good. I feel scared because I know I have to go back to London. I feel like I am floating around like a zombie. I feel like I am 3ft off the pavement and everything is grey and everyone is sad. There has been a hurricane that has blown dust into the atmosphere, and the sun looks red like it’s the end of the world. The world is yellow and red. I need some more sleeping tablets. The doctor told me that they were available over the counter so I walk into a chemist and ask for them, and the chemist looks me in the eye and says no we don't stock those - nobody does because people tend to abuse them, and I feel embarrassed like I am a drug addict and I scuttle out of the chemist. Later my mum goes into Boots and they give them to her, because she doesn’t look like a drug addict. She looks like a nice grown up lady who suffers from seasickness. I feel like a fraud because being with my mum makes me feel better. I feel very embarrassed about the last few days and I can’t really remember what I felt like when this first started to happen and I feel like I have made a big fuss about nothing. When we get home I go into town and I sit in the library and I write this diary from the notes I have been making. It makes me feel better, it is cathartic, then I think about publishing it and I feel terrified because people might think I am seeking attention but I’m not doing it for that reason, I am doing it because I want people to try and understand what happens when someone has a breakdown and what happens in the days after. This might not be the same as your story, but it might help you make sense of your story. I don't know what will happen next. I don't know when I will be better. But today, I feel better.  

Tuesday 17th October

I am going home tomorrow. I have told my clients at work, and I feel clear in myself that I need to be brave, and go and get on with my life as it is for now. I know have people at the end of the phone and also in my real life here who love me. I feel foolish still, like I have made a big fuss about nothing. I no longer feel like I am in a film. I feel like I am in my life. My mum has some errands to do and she drives to my sisters house and I run to my sisters house through the forest, along the Castleman Trail and it is so wonderful to be running for miles through the forest to a destination, with nothing around me. I need to run to the destination. I need to make forward progress. On the run I tell myself that it is all going to be OK and that I can cope. I am heading to the destination. I go and pick my niece up from school and I walk the dog.

I finish this part of my diary here. Tomorrow I return to London. I have so many unanswered texts and messages and I don't know how to start answering them. I guess I will leave them. I feel better. I feel like a fraud. I feel like I need to move forward but I need to do it slowly and not let this happen again. I am on anti-depressants that will start to make me feel better in the next week. I have the Autumn 100 to run at the weekend and I will run it. I will run it to prove that I am in control, the depression is not in control. It is part of me but it will not define me. I will finish the Autumn 100 if I have to walk it. I will stay away from social situations for now. I feel like I need to look after myself on my own for a little longer.

So, to all those who looked after me, my mum, my sister and her wonderful family, my housemate, my friends whose texts and messages have gone un-answered, thank you and I am sorry. Your messages went unanswered, but I saw them all. To the NHS Crisis team, thank you. I never thought I would need to use these services, and you may not think you ever need to use them, but they are invaluable.

To you, the person reading this, do not be afraid to ask for help.  You are not causing a fuss, you are not seeking attention, you are asking for help. Do not be afraid to tell people, to reach out, to make the call or send the text. We all like to think we are mental health savvy these days, but your friends and family are often too busy to see the signs or act on them.  You might be too busy to notice your peers are suffering. Check in on people. Be kind. Listen and watch. Remember, you are not a burden to anyone. Have a voice. Ask for help. You are so loved.

To myself, look after yourself, have some respect for yourself. Take care and listen to your brain and body. You are loved. You’ve got this.

TBC

Helplines:

The Samaritans: 116 123

CALM: 0800 58 58 58

[outrospecting-blog1]

Week 6

- This last week in Hanoi was a blur... on Sunday night (after we came back from Ha Long Bay), it’s after dinner and our host family tells us that we’re doing gifts at 9:30, which got me all sentimental a full week before we were actually leaving.. The gifts were customized pillows with our freaking pictures on them - mine said “so cute Celine”, and Heather and I were in shock for a good 5 minutes before we commenced a photo shoot in their room.. I’d never forget this family and this homestay experience anyway but this pillow guarantees that.. complicated my luggage situation a bit, but probably one of the most thoughtful gift i’ve ever received, and i’m gonna get all nostalgic every time I see this back home - Had a bunch of assignments due (every one of which I decided to start past 1am on the day of deadline).. One of these was an ethnographic paper where we basically were supposed to walk around the city and make sense of the space by documenting little details and assigning meaning.. I fell in love with the city all over again doing this, it’s kind of beautiful how people become their own authors of public space and start owning it as they see fit - i ended up near a lake and people were sitting on step stools (that they use at restaurants as well) drinking beer and had their own makeshift restaurants on the grass area and i feel like you don’t ever see this in urban American cities but i love it so much.. interesting how “unregulated” this business-scape is, in a sense because Vietnam is technically still under a "communist” gov - Also had a group case study presentation which we logged some coffee shop hours putting together.. (cong caphe has this coconut blended iced coffee which we were all obsessed with.. and a really nice bookcase aesthetic.. so literally all of us were in there working on case study on Thursday afternoon) Our case study topic is “psychosocial and emotional well-being” which everyone has been calling mental health because that’s essentially what it is.. so we started out with questions about whether people feel depressed/anxious and why and how they deal with it, but quickly realized that depression and anxiety aren’t concepts in vietnam, and tried to replace it with words like sadness/stress (which also didn’t really work because it just isn’t “normal” to think about these things). I was familiar with this frame because it’s where i come from - which was the beginning of a set of epiphanies about my background and cultural roots.. our western notion of “mental health” is quite medicalized, but i don’t think this means that the non-western views should be seen as “backwards”, as much as i’ve experienced it negatively in the past. It took some processing, but we found that people, students specifically, view stress as normal (which it is) rather not pathological, and therapy/counseling isn’t considered until it’s a serious mental disorder where the person clearly cannot function and go about everyday life - which is also subjective, i realize. Our in-country faculty were actually working on a research project trying to test the effectiveness of a workbook in helping people deal and cope with their depression, moving toward the set of beliefs about mental health that we’re familiar with at spaces like my school and many other American areas (not so much my hometown, i don’t think).. For our case study project’s sake, we pretty much abandoned the focus on mental illness which really wasn’t transferrable, and started thinking about mental well-being - how do people find meaning and happiness in their life? - a more universal concept than “depression”.. the people we interviewed were very diverse, and we interviewed them for different reasons - students at Hanoi Medical University (to learn about their thoughts/knowledge about psychiatry? which wasn’t very productive lol), a bunch of people in the Thai and H’mong villages (to learn about their lives!! see last post), the director of a psychiatric hospital (to learn about what care for mental illnesses looks like and how people in general approach it)… so our preliminary “conclusions” were very broad, but i think the most valuable takeaway was that we really need to step outside our own frames and put on a new set of goggles to understand people from their own frames of reality on what everything in their life means (or doesn’t mean) to them - Another one of our pretty obvious conclusions was that stability (in terms of external conditions) is necessary for positive mental health - like stable family life, stable job, stable home, etc… which is so unfair how many people don’t have this. But I also thought about lots of cases of depression i’ve encountered that could be attributed to over-stability? stagnancy? idk what the right word is but i’m thinking of people who have a “stable” life but want more in life and feel stuck and become depressed because they need change? i realize it requires a lot more privilege to fall into this state, but I also don’t think it should be downplayed due to its context. probably not something we’ll dig into in our case studies (well who knows) but this is of personal interest, as well as the biology behind it - On Saturday I had planned to go on a day trip (to Ninh Binh) for boats and caves and sightseeing, but I decided against it and stayed in Hanoi because I wanted a final day to be in the city and finish crossing things off my list. So I went to this cafe in Old Quarter called Note Coffee where sticky notes covered every wall, every table, every square inch of ceiling.. i wish i could’ve stayed here for a full day and read as many notes as possible.. loved reading cliche quotes and love letters and random weird bits from people all over the WORLD like what a concept... I sat here and felt like I was in 20 places of the world at once.. it was like an organically created museum of traveling humans :’) - I’d planned to spend the day exploring Hanoi alone but that morning, Gwen - our lovely program volunteer / case study translator messages me asking if I’m free and asks to hang out!! So we met up and she took me around on her motorbike to her favorite food spots so I could try things i haven’t tried yet (had the most amazing fruit desserts), and we went to the Temple of Literature. We had such good conversations that I’ll probably never forget -- we talked about literally everything, and it was actually incredible how much we had in common. She’s perfectly fluent in English, which she mostly learned through watching American movies / reading books, and because of this she understands and actually identifies with American culture a lot? which I thought was really interesting. Didn’t know this before, but she’s also fluent in French, (even more so than English), she started working for a (pretty big) travel agency this year, but before than she was a language teacher while she was going to school. She wants to get her Master’s next year either in France, Canada, or Switzerland - this gives me hope that maybe we’ll meet again soon, but until then I promised myself that we’ll keep in touch and be pen pals :’) - Saying goodbye to Hanoi was so hard, I didn’t realize how attached I got to the environment and to the people. When I was asked which country I was most excited for, I said either South Africa or Argentina because I honestly knew nothing about Vietnam and didn’t know what to expect/be excited for. But these were some of the most beautiful, epiphany-filled four weeks of my life, and frankly I don’t think SA or Argentina could beat it. People on the program have asked me why I loved Hanoi so much, and I haven’t been able to give a straightforward answer, because as much as I fell in love with the food and the motorbike rides on the crazy streets and the alleys lined with cheap clothing and gift stores, it’s the intangible things - what I learned about myself and where I come from, and what I learned about people and the world - that give this experience so much beauty, and I am grateful beyond words for the moments I felt on top of the world, for the lessons I’m taking away. Hope we’ll meet again one day :)

[whatwouldkenziedo-blog1]

(Kenzie’s Blog 7/17/17)

Hello to my non-existent readers! I am terribly sorry that I haven’t been here to blog. Recently a bunch of dumb teenage drama has been going on and I just haven’t made the effort to blog, but today I am back!

I will start with a story. Once upon a time there was a girl named Kenzie who was born a fat baby. She continued to grow up but continued getting more fat too. She then one day, after years of hating herself and being bullied, she realized she wanted to be different and healthy. So she started going to a weight loss program at her doctor’s office and started to lose weight. Now she is happy because she feels good about herself and her health. Kenzie is continuing to lose weight and stay on a steady life style. The end. Okay so if you couldn’t guess, Kenzie in the story is the same Kenzie writing this blog. LOL. I have always been a fat person. My W H O L E life. And it’s always bothered me, of course. But not THIS BAD. I mean I hate who I am and it’s to the point where my health is really affected by my weight. 

I started going to a weight loss program at my adolescents doctor on Friday (7/14/17) and that appointment went EXTREMELY well. I am hyped to begin this journey of weight loss and a whole new lifestyle. Basically in this program I meet with a personal trainer, dietician, and stomach doctor every month. If I lose any weight from the last time I saw them each month, I get an incentive (AKA a gift card to Academy). Not only are they motivating me with plastic cards that represent money, but also are motivating me with their care and support. The program employees REALLY care about each individual that they see. I feel so comfortable going into this program and changing my life with these folks. I couldn’t be more appreciative, especially since they have provided me with a scale, a ProGym (home gym equipment), and a FitBit. Not only do they give me tons of stuff and resources, they’ve also provided me with tons of excellent advice and ideas and plans to get me started on this wild ride I will be going through. 

So every month we have a set of nutrition goals and exercise goals and that’ll obviously change each month with my strength and abilities becoming bigger, the responsibilities and goals will also be bigger. 

This month’s goals:

NUTRITION:

1. Weigh yourself every morning

2. Eat slower (take 20 minutes at least)

3. Remember H.A.U.L.T. 

H- hungry

A- angry

U- upset

L- lonely

T- tired

These are each things that will make me want to eat since I have an eating disorder and I’m also a natural human being and eat when I’m hungry. But the point of remembering these things is that I will also have coping skills for each time I go through one of these reasons to eat.

Hungry - Eat when you are hungry, but don’t wait till’ you’re starving. Stop when you’re full, but not when you’re about to pop!

Angry, Upset, and Lonely - Use another coping skill besides eating, preferably EXERCISE!!!

Tired - Always have meals prepped, so I can’t use being tired as an excuse to not cook, or to go through the drive-thru.

AND

4. NO SODAS OR SWEET TEA

( For anyone who knows me, knows that blood does NOT flow through my veins, but sweet tea DOES! In conclusion, this will be SO HARD for me to accomplish. Butttttttt I will do it!)

5. NO FAST FOOD

( I also am a very big fan of eating fast food so this will be a challenge too.)

6. Low carb diet

EXERCISE:

1. Weigh yourself every morning

2. Reach your FitBit step goal of the day (Right now that’s only 5,000 steps)

3. Walk 30 Min. , 5 days a week

4. Use your ProGym for 15 Min. , 3 times a day, for 3 days a week.

5. Do an extra activity such as Zumba, tennis, or volleyball for 30 Min. , once a week

So those are my goals for this month. Next month I will be stronger and more capable of doing harder goals. Right now this is already kicking my ass. If you don’t know what a ProGym is, I recommend looking it up. It’s hard to do when you’re weak y’all!

But I will keep you guys updated on my weight loss and my goals of the month whenever I get new ones! 

Enough about my health. 

I want to talk about cute boys for a second. There’s a cute boy that I really like and I think he likes me too and he’s single now. So I don’t know where things will take us but hopefully things go slow and maybe something good will come out of it. I’LL KEEP Y’ALL POSTED.

Today I want to talk about insecurities and how God plays a part in how you feel about yourself. I want you to know that I am extremely insecure and that most days I don’t like looking in the mirror. It has a lot to do with my weight but some days I’m unhappy with my face or my hair or even my personality or my voice! There’s always some kind of flaw that I can pick out and just study on for hours in the mirror or I’ll think about something dumb I did years ago as I lie in bed trying to fall asleep. I can never be satisfied with who I am. Or at least I haven’t been before. So that being said, remember that I am someone who knows what it’s like to hate who you are. But during church camp a couple of weeks ago I got the amazing privilege of having Adam Griffin be the pastor of the week while I was there and I really enjoyed hearing him preach the gospel and share his testimony. One day before camp ended Adam had a small get together with anyone who wanted to go into ministries, whether that’s mission work, being a youth pastor, or pastor in general, or someone who’s a disciple, just anyone who wanted to go down that path, and he would answer any questions we had. Well obviously I went to that because I was fascinated with Adam and his journey that he took to become such an impacting man in people’s lives. I just had to know “how do I become that?” . So I went to this meeting and it was so cool to see all these teenagers who were like me in the sense that they wanted to be like Adam and change lives! I had one question for Adam. “Since you’ve said before you used to be super insecure, how do you keep your insecurities from affecting your work as you serve the Lord?”  And he had the best answer for me that planted a seed in my heart and it will grow into a tree that produces seeds for me to give to others, he said “When you walk with God, you don’t have to be insecure.” and WOW did that make me want to cry. This whole time I thought I’ve been walking with God, and I mean I have, but I’ve hated myself and I’ve hated this beautiful creation that God has made. I’m betraying God by hating his work and not believing that he can do great things with me. I do NOT have to be insecure when I walk with God. I do NOT have to fear when I walk with God. I do NOT have to hate when I walk with God. It made me realize that I need confidence in myself and who I’ve been made into. I need to love myself and those around me. We are all children of God and made in his perfect image, so why would I hate that? Why would I hate such beauty? 

What I want you to learn from this is that God made you and he made you in his image of what he thinks is beautiful. Be grateful for all he has done for you and how he has made you. Love yourself and everyone else. Remember that when you walk with God, you do not have to be insecure, and you are NOT alone. So come on, will you walk with God with me?