Confidence

My major long-term problem has always been my self-confidence.  I have gotten good grades and am adequate at most jobs.  My talents truly lie in creative pursuits, mostly writing and creating things for teaching.  There have been two people who have believed that I can do anything no matter how far fetched my ideas are. 

One of them was my high school English teacher, Rory.  He's only 10 years older than I am, but he was one of the best teachers I've ever had.  Not because he was the most knowledgeable, but because I think he genuinely cared about his students.  He would stay after school with me mostly everyday and we'd talk about literature or he'd critique my writings.  It's difficult to be a teenager.  I believe that he understood that and tried the best he could to help everyone.  We had the relationship like in The Perks of Being a Wallflower where the kid had a more friendship with his English teacher.  I am still friends with Rory.  I know that if I ever need someone, he will be there.  We don't talk everyday, but we don't have to.  He's always supportive of my dreams.  Rory was the first person to tell me that I had talent as a writer.  That meant something because sometimes I hate what I write. 

When I had writer's block, I remembered that Rory believed I was talented, so that helped me to keep writing even if it was academic.  Writing takes practice, which is why I keep writing here and in my notebooks.  I have a memory of something amazing ,which I keep with me as a confidence boost when I doubt myself.

The other was him.  When I talked to him the other day about one of my goals of getting a work visa to move to the UK, I told him the only one I could go for was the entrepreneurial visa. He remembered the museum that I want to create about Freddie Mercury.  It sounds insane and might be a pipe dream, but he always believed that I could do anything.  Sometimes he would say it was because I wasn't tied down, but a lot of the time it was because I was so smart.  That is something else that I keep. 

I suffer from a lack of self-confidence, which is a symptom of my depression.  I know that I am talented, bright and smart, but it doesn't feel that way.  In the night, I forget my goals...my dreams...all the possibilities.  Then these two memories pop into my head.  The relief is provided in the form of support.  Even if I don't speak to either one of those men again, the believed in me, which in turn makes me believe in myself. 

Confidence is an on-going process.  It's OK that we aren't always confident, but there are always moments when we can shine.  We have to fight the darkness of depression with the light of confidence.  Sometimes this confidence can come from the outside.  Confidence breeds confidence.

Losing

We all seem to be dependent on social media in a way.  I even started a Facebook page for this blog in an effort to get more readers because I feel that this is important to me. You can like it here.  I hope that more people visit the page and enjoy what I write there.  I'll be putting announcements about upcoming campaigns (one is in November and the other in March) and I may have a contest or two.  Now that I went off on a tangent, I'll get back on topic.

We get offended, hurt and wounded when we are blocked or unfriended.  I know I cried when he left because my only outlet to him was Facebook.  Social media is another way to hurt one another.  There is cyber-bullying, arguments, blocking and all other ways to make someone feel bad online.  Why am I ranting here?  Someone else has left.  I am getting better.  Why?  Why leave now?  This is a way for me to just hate people.

I wish I just had one good week.  I have, so far, gotten a few good days in a row, but not a whole 7 days. People leaving is due to a lack of communication. Why do we so fail at actual communication?  Being in therapy, I realized that the reason that we lose that we fail at relationships is because we do not know how to truly communicate.  It's frustrating!  We are told to put on a mask and hide our feelings in public, but because we are almost faceless on the internet, we can be cruel.

Maybe this is just my illness talking.  I'm not sure why people just walk away.  Maybe I'm just different because I'm empathic.  If I give someone my friendship/love/care/whatever you want to call it, you have it forever.  We may drift apart, you may walk away, but it's still there and it cuts me to the bone.  You need me, I'll come running back to help you.  Most people leave again after that.  Maybe it's because I don't want anyone to suffer like I do.

It feels like I am still losing.

Monsters

This is a topic that I've been contemplating for a while.  Humans can be monsters.  They do terrible things to one another and justify these hurts. People can be monsters on large or small scales, but that doesn't really excuse the things that happen.   I'll tell you a bit about what happened to me to make me come to this conclusion.

I haven't really talked about the incident in detail on here, which was the thing that triggered the major depression.  What happened in summation is that my bosses got HR involved because they thought that I was getting preferential treatment from him.  Really?  How can you get preferential treatment from a trainer?  I would never have to participate in role play?  My bosses never talked to me.  They never asked me to clarify what I allegedly said.  I know everyone hates role play, but I would still do it.

I felt betrayed because it was a simple communication problem that HR did not need to be involved in.  His reaction was what hurt the most because he left.  My bosses' justification for this betrayal of trust was preferential treatment.  I believe that if I was asked, then it wouldn't have blown up into this huge deal that left me abandoned and wounded.  The motivation?  Jealousy maybe or the guise of trying to bring in professionalism.  I don't really know, but I know what happened to me.  Were their actions good?  Not really and I was the one that suffered.

They became the villains, the monsters of my story.  It was because of this that I decided to start my non-profit because if they saw the signs of my depression, then maybe, they would have done something proactive instead of reactive.  I belief that jobs are still full of bullies and people that just add to the pile of bad things.  It is a civic responsibility to add to the pile of good things.  We can make a better world and not add to the justification of being monsters.

I am healing, but it takes time.  I have made peace with him and maybe something good will come back. I had one person apologize.  I stood up to another and the third got her share of karma.  Let's add to the kindness so that we have fun and grow.  No one should ever have to go through what I went through, but I know that it happens to people everyday all over the country.  Human beings can be monsters and live with their deeds through justifications for the carnage.

Today

It was a very interesting day today.  Tumultuous is probably the best word for it.  Mostly because I received disappointing news and I had to see him today. Sometimes, I wish that I could control my emotions better.

I got news that a friend of mine for many years and a co-worker will be leaving.  I am a bit disappointed because it means that I won't talk to him as much.  The daily e-mails were a distraction and something that I will miss greatly.  I know that it's time for this friend to move on from the company because he got everything he wanted to out of it.  I can't blame him and I wish him luck, yet I will miss him terribly.

I also had training today with Him.  The friend that I lost.  It was good to see him and speak to him.  It's not like it was before, but I got him things that he liked so that I could be kind.  Kindness breeds kindness in my mind.  I had a bit of vulnerability and told him that I still missed him.  I tried to be as helpful as I could as he was injured in a car accident.  I'm a softie because I still care for all my friends even if they never speak to me again.

We did talk about things a little bit.  He's doing better, which is important.  I can't say that I'm 100% back because healing takes time.  He agreed to look at my plan for an internal training program, which I'm working on through taking courses and doing research.  Ironically, a lot of good came out of the incident because I have a purpose now.  Maybe losing him was for a reason.  Before he got into his car he told me that we strive.  Sometimes that is all we can do. 

Do I still care for him?  Of course and yes, it hurts.  I mourn loss for a very long time.  I mean I still cry because Freddie Mercury is dead.  It was good to see my old friend and good to see him well.  I will always care for him and I will always miss him.  I miss the closeness.

The thing that got me the most was that he said I should be proud of myself.  That made me cry, not in front of him, but I cried nonetheless.  It's difficult for me to be proud of myself because I don't feel like I'm important.  I feel alone.  I know that makes people upset, but it's part of the illness.  Why do I survive?  I'm still unsure.

Though today was a right mess, it was good to feel peaceful for a small moment.

HALT

One of the things that is difficult for self injurers is identifying their emotions and which emotions trigger the urges.  While I was doing research on how to stop my own destructive behavior, I read an article about HALT.  That stands for Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.  It was quite interesting, which I will share my opinion of now.

Hungry was the thing that surprised me the most when I read the article about triggers.  I guess it makes sense because when you're hungry, you're irritable and don't think clearly.  For me, the hungry would be the easiest thing to solve.  I do understand that sometimes the urges are overwhelming to the point that you might not be able to identify the feeling that is the underlying cause to the urge.  I know that when I need to eat it's hard for me to focus and I sometimes have temper tantrums.  It was not a pretty sight.

Angry was fairly obvious.  Anger is a violent emotion anyway and for many self injurers we hide our emotions.  Anger is the strongest and since we don't want to hurt anyone else, the anger gets taken out on ourselves. The worst one for me was when the incident happened.  I felt betrayed, which made me enraged and I have a scar on my arm from that day.  Anger was the one that made sense to me.

Lonely.  What can I say about loneliness?  It's my normal state.  I have always been a little bit lonely, which is something that I have written about before.  Self-harm is a vicious cycle that makes you feel better for a second and then the guilt and the isolation comes in.  The self-harm feeds the loneliness.

Tired made sense as well.  We're all irritable and have lower tolerance for problems when we don't get enough sleep. Frustration is the easiest emotion to bubble forth while fighting exhaustion.  As adults we sacrifice sleep to take care of others, worries or entertainment.  Rest is important to a healthy functional life.

When it comes to resisting urges to hurt yourself, it best to be able to identify the emotions/underlying causes.  So next time an urge comes up think HALT.  Then go do something else for 15 minutes because by then the urge should have dissipated.  HALT has helped me a few times.  Being able to understand the emotions and connect them to urges definitely helps.  Maybe this will help those who still suffer from self-harm.

There is Always Hope

Hope is a complicated emotion.  It can be the only thing that people cling to and it's devastating when hope is lost, well, seemingly lost.  Hope never dies, but it can hide as depression sucks out everything from your soul until only darkness remains.  Hope is a good emotion.  I quite like hope.

So, why am I writing about hope again?  The reason is that today, was the first time I felt truly hopeful in a while.  I was talking about how everything is uncertain since one friend came back, which was the friend that I didn't think would return.  My therapist said that you never know what will happen.

My job has been topsy turvy with staffing as we are continually short due to high turnover.  Part of that is unfortunate hiring decisions and the other happens to be low pay.  For the area where I live, money is an important factor to most, but not to me.  I have met many interesting people and one of them was him.  Today was the first non-tense non-work related mini conversation that we had since February.  Even if we won't be good friends again, at least the animosity is dissipating. That was where my hope came from.

The hope might be brief, but it is there.  No one knows what the future truly holds.  Even my visions are of mundane things that I don't truly figure out till later.  This optimism is new for me.  I have never been a glass half full kind of girl.  I don't always see the bright side, but there is a glimmer that healing is possible.  That is enough for now.  The knowledge of possibilities made me smile in a way that I didn't think possible with all this stress.  I have something to look forward to down the road and that's enough.

Phoenix

Everyone has mythical creatures that represent them.  In the middle ages different animals had symbolism attached to them.  For example, a lion represented courage, while a unicorn represented grace and purity.  Those are both currently on the coat of arms for the Royal Family of Britain.  Everyone has their favorite.  I like unicorns, I love dragons, but my favorite is the phoenix.

The Phoenix is a mythical bird that bursts into flames when it is time for it to die and then is reborn in its own ashes.  The phoenix show up in various mythologies, stories and modern fantasies (i.e. Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter). I first heard of the phoenix when it became a character on X-men.  Not the movie trilogy, but the 90's cartoon version.

The Phoenix entity entered Jean Grey in order to save the universe from a mad man.  They did, but Phoenix enjoyed emotions too much that she didn't leave and therefore became Dark Phoenix.  That's the character in a nutshell, because there would be too many spoilers otherwise. 

Since I loved phoenix so much, my father got me a box from Russia with the phoenix on it.  Russian artists produce fairy tale paintings on black lacquered boxes.  My dad would go to Russia on business and brought it back for me.  I never told him, but it's one of the favorite things I own.  The small box currently holds a necklace and a bracelet where it resides on my bookshelf.

The phoenix is also part of Queen's insignia from the 70's, which was designed by Freddie Mercury.  He chose it because of its power and its eternity.  It seemed to me that he picked it because he wanted Queen to be around forever.  I believe their music will be.

Then there is what the phoenix means to me.  I keep rising again from the ashes.  Mental illnesses in general are like fire.  They are destructive and leave you with nothing.  In order to get better, we have to bottom out in a way.  Depression may just be someone leaving that you didn't think possible or trying to end your life.  Whatever it is, the bottom is reached and then it is time to get help.  Addicts reach a point where they decide that they need to get better or they will die.  Basically, we rise from the ashes of our former lives. 

I had my depression go into remission for 3 years only to slowly creep back to me last year.  Then the incident kicked it into high gear.  I bottomed out when he left.  I was already going to therapy and doing what I should, but coming out of the flames takes time.  Phoenixes are amazing creatures that are eternal like the human spirit.  We get crushed, we get down, we lay at the bottom of hell and bleed, but we can come back.  We may get burned, but we survive.  We transform into something else, perhaps something more beautiful than before.

The phoenix is my symbol for fighting on. Hope and healing are eternal. The human spirit is forever as is the phoenix.  We just keep coming back.

If I ever made a crest, the phoenix would be included.  What would your design be?  What is the creature that represents you?

Part of Me

There is a part of me, that I feel, will always be sad.  It's an irreparable hole in the depths of my soul that has taken root never to be taken out.  Having talked to several people about their depression, they also say that it never really goes away.  It can go into remission, but it is always there.

Mine seems to want to come out at night.  Usually late at night when I'm getting ready for bed.  I feel my eyes swimming in tears and my heart just sink.  I always have to remind myself to work on my wellness and my list to keep me from thinking about things that only hurt.  I am being critical of my looks despite the fact that I'm exercising everyday.  I am still stuck with the fact that most of the time, I do not like myself.

I go through cycles where I can be happy and the next day, the sad/crazy will return.  This past week has been difficult.  I went on an amazing vacation and came back to the insanity and stress of my job.  I generally like my job, but it's very slow at growth.

Sometimes I feel like a queen and at other times, I feel like I'm nothing.  I still have issues with my self-worth and self-esteem.  I want to be better.  I am told that I am better, but I feel different.  I'm not like I was before.  I have been touched by the scourge of depression and it refuses to let me go.  I fight it, but part of me is still missing.

The scenes from most of my life are not kind.  They are filled with bullying, loneliness and things that no one would be proud of.  I'm trying to move forward, but part of me is scarred eternally.

So Close

Through dark and light
I fight to be so close
Shadows and lies mask you from me


Those are lyrics from the theme song from the show, Broadchurch, starring David Tennant as a detective who is working to solve the murder of a young boy in a small seaside town.  I have been listening to this song and just thinking of ways that that song can be interpreted.

In the show, it represents that fact that everyone has secrets and lies to protect them.  Everyone has their shadows that they try to hide behind.  Depression is a shadow that masks the sufferer in its darkness.   Depression lies and tells you that it will care for you because it makes you believe that you are alone.  We fight the dark to be close to something.

Also losing a friend or a lover is the terrible thing that fills all with doubt.  The person is masked from you again and it's a horrible feeling.  Humans as a whole are cloaked in mystery.  Does anyone truly know another?  I don't think anyone knows someone completely and Broadchurch proves that in such a real gut-wrenching way.  We all try to appear normal while we are guarding secrets, sometimes monstrous ones.

I know that people want to have someone to be close with.  Even with that closeness there are secrets.  He once told me that he never reveals everything about himself to anyone in order to protect himself.  I felt close to him and now he's masked by shadows once again.  I would be lying if I say that I didn't miss him.  I miss him everyday, but it doesn't hurt all the time.  Remembering makes me smile to myself.  Maybe there is hope.

We must fight through the light and the dark to find the place where depression doesn't rule and we can find contentment.  Bad things will happen, but we can survive. So close.

Brilliant, Yet Troubled

Those are the words that have been used to describe me from my friend, Jen.  Brilliant, yet troubled.  It has been stated that those with higher intelligence are 3 times more likely to develop depression because of the amount of work that the brain does.  Basically the intelligent over think and their thoughts make them too sad.  The pain was triggered and  now we cannot turn it off.

I have always been intelligent.  I did well in school, but I was always odd.  I didn't really belong or have many friends.  I've lived on the fringes of every clique.  My best friends were the ones that I invented or felt at least until I got to high school.  While I had friends and a wonderful mentor, I was still in the darkness.  I was in the isolation of my own hell.  I didn't necessarily make myself sad as I have an autoimmune disease where depression is a major symptom, but there was very little light in my life.  I did my best to express myself through my writing.  I wrote poetry back then and not all of it was good.

I have also written plays and have numerous story ideas as well as research for articles.  I also write this blog.  I am quite impressive when not plagued by low self-esteem and self-doubt.  I know a lot about history, music and film.  I am still writing and trying to share my brilliance with the world, but it is difficult.

If we look at some of the most talented painters, writers, singers and actors ever, you will find pain.  We are all troubled either by our own devices.  We put the contents of our tormented lives into some type of beauty.  Maybe the troubled try harder to get to a place of being better.  Maybe we see things in a different way.  Maybe we are just crazy.

I have so much talent and so much intelligence, yet I feel like I'm stuck at the bottom of a ravine with no hope of rising again.  I have good days, bright days and days where I am happy.  However, the ravenous darkness lives inside me waging a war to control my world.  I take that pain and share it with you in the hope that it helps in some way to show that you are not alone.  Brilliant, yet troubled.

Yesterday

I have been feeling isolated, abandoned and alone for the last few days.  Ever since I came back from vacation actually.  There is a lot of emotional disconnect from a good portion of my friends.  Maybe it's true that friendships only last a short amount of time.  Maybe it's just my self doubt skulking in the darkness.

It's a myth that anti-depressants make someone happy.  They just make people stable enough to carry on with the daily life, but the sadness is still there.  I know that my illness has altered many things and I may not ever get things back to what they were.  The only constant is change.

I work hard everyday to try to be ok, but there are days when I fail.  I'm failing now.  I want to be social and to feel like my friends are there.  I want that connection again.  Depression is darkness and nothingness combined into one in order to destroy the good in you.  Yesterday it was winning, today it is not.

I still mourn for my losses.  Friends leave, but they take something with them.  I believe that we are different with different people.  I am more masculine with some friends and more female with others.  Sometimes I am just me; the crazy, optimistic, wild me.  It's tough to go through an illness with someone especially when you are suffering yourself.  I think a few people have done it right.  Sue and Ashley are always there and talk to  me about normal things.  They don't blame me for my condition or my distorted thinking.  They try to treat me as a friend and do things that help.

The suffering can't always tell you that they are in this depth of pain.  I suggest you try to treat them as normal and offer to do things that make them feel like they are not the mess they believe them to be.

Stings

Loneliness stings more than words can tell.  I always feel like I don't belong anywhere or with anyone.  My sense of belonging was shattered.  The pain of loneliness isn't like a bee sting, it's more like a lashing that throbs for a very long time.

My therapist says that I want a relationship.  I want a companion not a romantic one, I just want someone that I can tell everything to and feel a connection with.  I thought that I had someone that could be my companion, but I believe that fear in some way got the best of him.

I'm doing the best that I can alone.  I have some terrific friends, but nothing as distracting or as satisfying as a companion.  I cried in my car today because the loneliness hurt so much.  It's all a memory and it's all I have to hold onto for the moment.

I joined meetup.com to have something to do and maybe meet some interesting people.  Due to scheduling conflicts and my natural shyness, I haven't gone to any yet, but I want to.  I joined 4 groups, one is for writing, one is spritualtea and another is for women having fun.  I hope that it will help staunch the wounds that loneliness has inflicted upon me.

Maybe I just want to feel that someone cares again.

Famous Last Words

I picked up a book when I was in Mystic entitled, Famous Last Words.  They are the finalish words of well known people from presidents to celebrities to criminals.  Some were humorous others were tragic.  The one that got to me the most was one from Vincent Van Gogh.

"I paint as a means to make life bearable. Don't weep.  What I have done is best for all of us.  No use, I shall never be rid of this depression."  Van Gogh killed himself in 1890.  We have come a long way in the treatment of mental illnesses.  This was said in 1890 when there was no medication and psychotherapy was not in existence quite yet.  Van Gogh had to come up with his own way to survive his madness, while he may not have been completely successful, he did the best he could.  His therapy was painting and he saw the world in a different way, which he depicted in his paintings.

I was tinkering with an idea for a new campaign.  It is now titled, " ___ makes life better."  It's going to be about our hobbies, interests and passions that make life worth living.  It is a component to dealing with a dreadful illness.   My main thing is writing.  Writing makes my life better.  The campaign is going to start November 1.  I hope you can participate and you may send the entry to zandraava@gmail.com.

Boats, Seas and Whales Too!

I was away on a much needed break to Mystic, CT for my best friend's 30th Birthday.  I went with Brianna and her fiance, Adam.  I can say that it was a time that I was deeply happy.  It's not a long drive from where I live and the journey was pleasant even if we got lost.

We stayed at Days Inn Mystic, where we were upgraded to King Beds, which was great for me as it was very roomy and I had some much needed time to myself.  The first thing we did was go swimming.  The water was cold, but refreshing.  We decided what to do for the few days we were there.  After a shower, we went to Jack's Wayback burger where we had chili mac and cheese burgers.  They were excellent.  We drove around to find our surroundings.  We ended up in Downtown Mystic where we went shopping.  I found a piece of art that I will share now.

It was something that I needed because depression is a struggle.  I am telling my story as we are all stories.  We had an enjoyable evening walking around.  We went to a bookshop where I bought a pin that says, "Brave."  I figured that very few people are brave, but I am one of them. We also got to see the drawbridge go up, which was a marvel as the bridge is 90 years old.  Humans can to amazingly innovative things. We then spent the evening watching Game of Thrones.  That was our evening activity for the time we spent in Mystic.

The next day after breakfast, we went to Mystic Aquarium.  I was so excited about this because I love aquariums.  I love sea life because the water makes me calm.  My favorite creatures are sharks, but the beluga whales made me happy.  They play, swim and have simpler lives in the aquarium.  Whales can feel much like humans can it is reported, so yes they can feel loss.  One of the Belugas hung out in the back to get attention from the trainers.  Maybe it's lonely too.

We then went to Olde Mystic Village to have lunch and do some shopping.  We had lunch at Ten Clams where I had New England clam chowder and fish and chips.  It was decent filling food.  Wandering around the village was fun. I got a facial and spent too much money on beauty products, but I will use them.  After shopping, it was nap time, which I did homework during.  Then it was Dominos and Game of Thrones.

Wednesday was HOT!  We went to Mystic Seaport to see ships.  I've been before and have had some fantastic times on those old boats.  The coolest thing was that I got to see Jellyfish in the water.  We also saw the progress on the restoration of the Charles W. Morgan, a wooden whaling ship, which is going along beautifully.  It should be fully restored in 2014.

After the seaport we explored a few local wineries.  I love wine and had a great time tasting them.  We then had a swim since it was sooooo hot. For dinner we went to Friendly's for ice cream, but the fruit flies loved Brianna for some horrible reason.  We ended the night with more Game of Thrones.

The last day, we went back to Mystic Aquarium and had a last jaunt around Downtown Mystic where I had a delicious panini.  I took some final photos of Mystic River and the bridge.  Then we were off home.  The sun was shinning like it knew that I was truly happy.

There are somethings that just make people enjoy life.  It's not major things, just simple things like the sun, or flowers or the sea.  The sea makes me better both mentally and physically.  One day, I would like to live by the sea and just be me.  I was happy in Mystic, which means that the possibility to feel happy again is there, thanks to the sea and four beluga whales.

That Smile

Have you ever seen someone whose smile stopped you in your tracks and completely disarmed you?  Have you ever known that that smile was meant for you?  I received that smile once and I miss seeing it.  It's just a memory now.

A smile that beautiful was part of my pile of good things.  That was something that was so important for me and I miss meaning something to someone.  I know that my friends and my family care about me and I value that, however that smile awoke something in me.  I've just been remembering him a lot.

I am going on a wondrous vacation this week with my best friend, which I'm looking forward to because I'm carrying on.   But there are times when I wish I could tell him just how much better I'm doing.  I want to tell him that I still care for him.  I did so much for him when he asked, but when I needed everyone's support, he left.  That still stings, which brings up my anger.

I can understand why people leave, but I'm a giver.  It is my nature either as a person or as an empathic to help people.  I want to make people feel better because no one deserves the pain that I went through.  It's just disappointing when I did not receive the same in return.  He's not the only one that left or became distant, but I feel his loss a bit more keenly than the others.  I just have to remember that not everyone is like me.  Not everyone is brave.  Not everyone can stare through the face of pain.  Not everyone can give back.

I miss all these people and it hurts, but I carry on the best I can.  That is why I take classes as well as write this blog.  I hope that one day I will see that smile again from somebody.  I hope we all find that smile.

Pile of Good Things

The above quote is from the episode, "Vincent and the Doctor."  Anyone who has read about Vincent Van Gogh knows that he was a troubled soul who produced some of the most original and memorable art.  Van Gogh committed suicide at the age of 37.  Since suicide prevention week is coming up, I decided to write about this quote.

We all need a pile of good things.  There are events and people in our lives that make it worth living even at times we don't believe this to be true.  The good things in life don't stop the bad things from happening as the only constant in life is change.  I am still doing good things for myself like exercising and taking classes.  These things did not stop the rift or the incident nor did they soften the blow, but I'm still trying.  I am still here and being here means that I can have amazing things in my life.

We can't stop tragedy, but we can remember the great things, the time we spend with the people we love.  It still hurts that some people have left, but we had some great times together.  Memory is sometimes all the companionship we get and that's in the pile of good things.

I also want to call my charity Pile of Good Things because it is every person's social responsibility, I believe, to add to the pile of good things.  There is so much sorrow in the world that maybe if we know our rights as employees and employers learn prevention techniques for mental health issues, then maybe, just maybe, we can help one another.  Maybe we can have a pile of good things that can be shared with everyone.

In other news, I am working on another campaign for the blog since I Am Not My Scars was so successful.  It's going to be something different.  Look for more details soon.  This campaign is going to happen in November.

In Loving Memory

This is a guest post by my friend, Gina, who has been really supportive of my journey.  She also really loved the campaign idea and wanted to write her story and provide a picture.  I post it all below.  I hope you enjoy it what she wrote, so that you can see how special and beautiful she is.  Gina survived something awful.  Her scars are part of her and make her amazing.

I remember, ten years ago, changed the course of my life. Little did I know, at thirteen, I would have endured what most would call, unimaginable. Now my story manifests in my life as a story of encouragement and resiliency that I can’t wait to share with the next person who asks, “Where is that scar from?”

Another memory I have, a couple years following, is of a lady I met on my Make a Wish® trip. While walking beside the pool in my two-piece, she stopped me and asked if “it “saved my life. I thought for a moment, and realized she was asking about the pink rugged scar spanning the length of my belly. I seemed to have forgotten about already. I said, “Yes”, with a smile on my face. She said hers did too, and she sported a much older scar on her belly. “Then it’s beautiful, no matter what anyone says to you the rest of your life.” Her words stuck with me these last ten years. Words can impact someone’s life, and they can be beneficial or detrimental. As a child in a water park, naturally I went back to what I was doing that day, but how could I know that ten years later I’d be writing about what this lady said to me? It was only a 30 second exchange. We cannot pick and choose what people will remember, but we can certainly choose to be encouraging and pass the lessons we’ve learned along to the generation.

Today, I am not defined by the scars; I am strengthened, and have chosen to turn it into a lesson of courage and a remarkable journey that speaks volumes. I will not be remembered as the girl with the giant scar on my stomach or the girl with a scar in the middle of her chest. My legacy will be of one who has overcome the odds triumphantly. I choose not be labeled as a survivor, where my scars are just former wounds, I choose to be called a victor. My scars represent battles won. All the pain and anguish never left a name. Our perspective and what we choose to represent and bring into other’s lives is how you will be remembered. Leave a legacy of love, kindness, and forgiveness.

There are a number of kids I met in my journey who lost their lives, unable to tell their legacy. Though their lives were short, I can tell you they’ve left a bigger impact on my life than many people who are still alive. For me, I choose to represent some of the lessons these children could not to the living world. They have “forever faith”, I call it. Even though it was time to give up the fight, they were never defeated. I knew it at thirteen and I know it now. Another is their gratefulness, because they knew tomorrow was not promised. I will never forget how excited the children were for the snack cart or a blanket that was donated to them from a non-profit or a just kind person. Be grateful for the small things as well as the big things. Finally, they all smiled. Their genuine smiles are the number one thing I remember, because even when I felt it was impossible to smile, one of the kids would be smiling at me and I could not help but to smile back.

There is much more that can be learned from these kids, but these are a few of the ones I feel are important.

In loving memory of: Nija, Gregory, Casey, and Caitlin. Though you are not here, your beautiful lives, teach infinite lessons beyond the physical realm.
∞∞∞∞∞

The Doctor or Daleks part 2

I was waiting till after my campaign to write this essay.  It will be a short essay on how the Doctor (or the Daleks) made me better.  Yes, it's a Doctor Who thing, but get over it.  We all need something to believe in.  For some people it's God, for some it's Cows, for some it's being a Jedi (which I'm totally serious about.  See polls of religions in Britain and Jedi is on there).  While I identify as Jewish, I believe more in the Doctor, the good of the human race and the paranormal.  This is about the Doctor.  How stories can really help all of us.

As I've stated previously, Doctor Who was always on the periphery of my life.  I knew what it was, who was involved and vaguely what it was about.  I would watch the Christmas specials when I lived in England and just enjoyed the odd story or two.  It wasn't until this year that it made an effect on me in a big way and partially it was because of him.

He and I were close once and he loved Doctor Who.  In fact, just after Christmas he showed me the little Tardis he received as a present.  He's English, you see and I miss the English.  When he left, I think that's when I really got into the Doctor because I miss Britain so much.  Doctor Who is so British sometimes that it isn't funny (Tea actually heals the Doctor at one point).  So, I started following Doctor Who and the Tardis on Facebook because of this:

I was already going mad because of cutting, depression and heartbreak that it felt like something in the universe understood.  So, I started watching the show.

When the Daleks got introduced in the first season, that's when I fell in love with the show.  I love the complexity of them.  How they are so driven by hatred for everything that isn't Dalek, yet their confusion when they are free.  Whenever the Daleks show up in a season, that is usually my favorite episode.  They aren't elegant, they are singularly driven and sometimes they are humorous like when they serve tea in World War II.  The first episode of season 7, "Asylum of the Daleks," was my favorite because it made me cry.  You can see it here.  That episode had so much to do with a fractured mind that I could relate to it.

As for the Doctor, he is the loneliest man in the universe.  I felt that someone understood the depth of isolation that I felt.  I like 10 and 11, but I love 9 because he was so strange looking.  The Doctor, like all humans, needs someone to offset himself with.  The Doctor is better with someone, not necessarily a lover, but he needs a companion.  I need a companion and I'm not talking about a pet, I'm talking about a deeply affectionate friend.  My fear is that I will never have one again because I, like the Doctor, have lost companions.  None of them have died, but they have left.  I remember all of them.  He was my Rose Tyler in a way.  I lost him and I'm alone again.

Doctor Who is a story.  We're all stories in the end.  Maybe that's why I'm a historian, to read and write stories.  Just because the Doctor is an alien doesn't mean that he doesn't possess all the good and bad traits that humans do.  They are just shown under extreme circumstances.  Compassion is not a weakness, but a strength.  The Doctor even shows compassion to the Daleks, his worst enemy.

The Doctor helped me through this hell that was forced upon me.  It taught me that we are all important and have a part to play.  We can miss someone, but we have to carry forward.  Maybe, if we're very lucky, they will come back.  Thank you, Doctor.

Invisible

There are times that I don't think that anyone really sees me.  They look through me to the obvious.  I have a friend, who is very beautiful, but she doesn't believe that she is.  My supervisor is also beautiful, yet thinks that she is fat.  It usually bothers me because they can get anyone they want and I'm stuck here with no one.

My mother is pushing me to do online dating, but I've tried it and I really don't want to.  I've done it before and it has been disappointing.  Online dating can be deceptive and shallow, which is the condition of the human race.  Even he would tell me stories about how some of his friends got together with their partners.  I am not the exception...those extraodinary things that involve love do not happen to me.  I am not seen because I'm 27, overweight and still have acne.  I always end up being the friend or not mattering. 

Now this might be my distorted thinking, but it seems to be true.  I've only had one boyfriend and I'm pretty sure that he only stayed for as long as he did because I was his first girlfriend.  Also he had some low self esteem issues too.  I'm the person that gets thought of when something is needed.  Mostly when problems need to be solved because I am incredibly clever.  I am intensely knowledgeable with history, business and psychology, which is why people turn to me. 

I am the one that sets things up otherwise, I would just sit at home alone all the time.  I'm lonely because I am not seen.  I only appear when needed.  That makes me feel cheap and used.  Does anyone else feel unseen?  Do I even matter?  Does anyone see me as other than a brain?