thinking out loud

dear friends,

I’m sorry that it has been such a long time since I’ve wrote for you. Today I had some more time than usual to sit down, listen to music, and write…so here I am again, hoping to share something that helps you someday on this adventure that we call life. <3

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when you or I go to tell someone that something bad has happened to us often times we spend so much time working up the courage to tell them that we forget a whole other aspect: the courage to stay authentic to oneself and to not let our friend put their own spin on our story. I called this post “your story is yours” because today I wanted to write about the importance of your story- and how that also includes the authenticity to yourself in telling it. It’s so hard to open up to someone about something which has happened to you, I know that, and you probably know that too. But I’ve also found it hard sometimes to stick to my own story without adopting a twist added by the person I’m telling it to. It doesn’t even have to be a permanent one, maybe it’s just that in that moment the person says something and the next thing I know I’m saying “you’re right,” or compromising small things for the sake of their comfort. In the past I have even begun to feel almost guilty for the truths that I’ve said sometimes, just because others couldn’t hear them without adding their own idea of how the event happened. I’ll go more into why this is so important to me below, but simply put its because even the small things will lead to bigger things, and often times these small compromises end up sewing doubts in our mind which can grow bigger or bigger, and end up compromising what we know to be true.

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The truth is, we are right, our stories deserve to be heard, and our feelings also have the right to be acknowledged. But our stories not only need to be heard, they also deserve to be heard in their wholeness, and acknowledged as such.

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Most of the time when we reach out we want to be heard and are not reaching out for a potential explanation, or for you to add your own thoughts into the story. I think this is an easy thing to do when someone tells you their story…I often catch myself trying to develop a story or explanation for my friend, and then I have to remember that it is not up to me to come up with a better story for them. It is up to me to listen to their story, and comfort them when in need, and give them advice when they ask. It is not up to me to say “well maybe this” or “well maybe that” or “do you think it’s fair that you think that way?”

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Maybe I can better explain my message if I use an example from my own experience… When I first started talking to people about being sexually abused in the past- I received all types of reactions or answers explaining the situation from different points of view. I was so distraught because I would always think to myself, “you weren’t there…” It seemed that every time I told someone they would have something to add, or an added angle that “maybe you didn’t think of…” For some reason their explanations of the story would stick to my mind poisoning the truth of what had actually happened. I let doubt creep into my mind, and didn’t face the truth for so long, which meant that I didn’t reach out for help.

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it took a lot of work to build confidence in my story again- actually, it started three years later. At that point I had stopped attempting to tell people, I had stopped looking for help, and I bottled up the story as if it wasn’t important. Well, because I didn’t deal with it properly the memories were triggered back three years later, and it overwhelmed me. It was then that I realized I needed to do something because I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore. It was then that I realized just how impacted I was by it, and I needed to rediscover the truth. I decided to open up to a friend of mine and it was in telling him that I realized what kind of response was a good one, and the one that I should have gotten so many years ago. I remember sitting there looking at my friend with tears in my eyes and telling him thank you. It didn’t turn into him asking about the circumstances, it wasn’t about him telling me what he thought, it was about him listening and telling me that he was so sorry for what had happened, and wrapping me in a big hug, and telling me that he was sorry that he couldn’t have been there those years ago.

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I don’t write this to attack anyone, that is never the intent of my posts, I write this to provoke thought and discussion, because the consequences of our actions or careless words can be more impactful than we mean. We need to start working better on how we respond to things, myself included. I know that it is hard being put in a position where someone shares something so intimate and we don’t know how to respond…I’ve been there. I think it’s good if we reflect a bit on how our responses could affect a person, even if they are not from evil intent, which is why I share this with you today.

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I thought about ending this post with a bit of practical advice– Advice for the one telling, and advice for the one listening.

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For the listener:

Whenever something is shared with me I try to respond in these three ways first, perhaps its a good start.

1. I always acknowledge their hurt in some way, and console them according to the situation. (Sometimes it’s a hug, sometimes it’s saying that you are sorry that this happened to them etc)
2. Thank them for confiding in you
3. Show them that they’re brave for opening up about something like that, and tell them to be proud of themselves.

For the teller:

1. You are Brave, and should be proud of yourself for acknowledging your hurt, and seeking help. Hold onto this truth.
2. Tell your story as it should be told, stay true to yourself. Remind yourself that this is your story before you go to tell your friend.
3. Remember that your friend might not be re-telling the story to justify the perpetrators actions. It’s hurtful to hear, I know, but maybe they are uncomfortable or don’t know how to react. I’d recommend reminding them gently that this is your story, and not theirs to tell, or that you only need someone to listen.
4. If your friend still doesn’t understand that and tries to justify the perpetrators actions… remind yourself of your worth, the worth of your story. Also, I’d think about the importance of this person in your life…because if these were the eyes of a real friend, they would hear you when you ask them not to retell the story.

* as I was ending this post ‘Fuckin Perfect’ from Pink came on and I had to smile–remember friends, that’s you. Add that to your list too<3

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Sending love to you, and my inbox is open as always, in case you need a friend to listen. I will try my best. <3

Love,

Z

dear readers,

you’ve been in my thoughts often during this pandemic as it’s been really hard on a lot of us for so many different reasons. i’ve had plenty of time to myself and i haven’t written to you all, and i’m sorry for that. there have been so many moments where i wanted to write something to you, find out how you all are doing, tell you that you’re not alone but i couldn’t. as you all know by now i’m a huge over-thinker and lately i’ve been spending a lot of time working through that. having been quarantined, being in a new home and being out of work has given me way too much time for that. i didn’t want to write something to you that was a product of my overthinking, but something from my heart. having that said, i’ve been learning to be accepting and thankful for this time rather than be negative towards it. The reason being is that I have never been able to grow so much or learn about my habit of overthinking than right now. today, for a message from my heart, i have two thoughts that i want to share with you.

the first message is: take the small victories.

i’ve been so hard on myself these past few months because of how much time i had, and yet i still have so many things i haven’t started or perfected. i told myself i’d work out more, i’d write more, i’d be a great cook at the end of this (ha, you can ask my boyfriend about this one) and so on… the truth is, we all had expectations (or have) for our time at home…expectations that we might not have fulfilled perfectly, or even started. i’ve focused on this so much though, that I began to look towards myself negatively and didn’t give myself any room to look at the things that i did grow in, certainly not the little things.

i am not trying to tell you all that you shouldn’t strive for bigger things, or hold yourself accountable and push through to your goals. you should. life happens when we push to be the best version of ourselves that we can. i merely want to remind you that everyone fails, no one is perfect, and you can succeed in big things, but also in the little things too– and that these little things should make you just as proud and happy. just because you didn’t fulfill one of your goals, doesn’t mean you didn’t learn along the way, or maybe learn something completely different. set your mind to push for greatness, and celebrate every little victory as if it was greatness, because in reality it is. growth is great, no matter how big or small, whether it was planned or unplanned.

my second message (simply said for the headers sake) is: sadness is okay

this one is catered more so to those who have suffered with depression in the past. i believe that every person can learn something new in everything, though, so feel free to continue anyway! …

through my growth over the past few years i’ve been able to pinpoint certain feelings, emotions, and patterns which come along with my depression. as i’ve been healing i’ve been attentive to those and monitor them as much as possible to help myself not fall deeply again. through this pandemic i’ve been overwhelmed because it seemed like they were coming back, and i was trying to fight these feelings and emotions away . . . i had to remind myself of a very important truth, though:

these feelings, emotions, and patterns are not bad. it is how you allow them to make home in your being which affects you negatively or positively.

because of my pointed focus on these emotions i found that i have often been pushing them out, trying to subdue them before they were able to develop. every time i’ve started to feel sad or melancholy i would try to busy myself or every time that i was tired or my mind was clocked out i’d try and force myself up. even if i didn’t realize it, or do it purposefully, it turned into my natural inclination to avoid falling into a deep depression again. i had learned to associate and identify these with depression. i began to realize this, however, and had to remind myself that these feelings and emotions are normal, and that everyone experiences them. it shouldn’t be about shutting them down- everyone feels sadness, everybody needs a break. sadness is necessary sometimes, and even healthy, and being human means being able to feel this way. we shouldn’t try to become some type of “super human”, instead we should instead teach our bodies how to feel this way in a healthier way. we should integrate these feelings and emotions into our lives.

i think it’s an easy thing to do, to shut something out when we’ve had a bad experience with it. especially when we’ve worked so hard not to be hurt by that one thing again. but… its also okay to feel sad, it’s okay to clock out for a little bit, its okay to be anxious. just give yourself the time to acknowledge these and allow them their time. its about finding the middle ground – not about shutting them out.

with these little thoughts i am also sending my love to every single one of you.

remember to celebrate the little things!!

xx,

Zelie

• background: on my instagram page (@spreadyoursmile_) I’ve started a series this week which is meant to inspire a vulnerability about one’s faith. After I had my personal conversion to the Catholic Faith, openness or vulnerability about it was something I struggled with. I am therefore dedicating this week to push myself out of my comfort zone and share with you some thoughts or moments which have helped me through that journey.
• Broken down the posts look like this: A picture of my travels, to signify those things I miss but am grateful for before this pandemic, a quotation from my diary/prayer journal over this year to express vulnerability, and following thoughts written today to express the fulfillment or growth of those previous thoughts.

“I praise You because You have given me the best companions for my journey – those who have hurt me, and those who have comforted me. I would not trade even one of them away, Lord. Each and everyone one of them was perfect for my life.”
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As a Catholic we often hear the command to forgive one’s enemies, and this is something that I often (and still do) struggled with. It seemed that as I got older hurt could embed more deeply each time it came about, and I felt that in my heart I did not know how to truly forgive, or I found that often or most times I couldn’t find the strength.
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I didn’t know how to learn or where to start but I knew, however, that I had to find a solution because I have always been so set on never developing a bitter heart. I’ve regularly prayed that my heart would never find itself to be closed, and I asked daily that God might allow me to be one of His peacemakers in this world. So in truth, when faced with hurt and at the same time longing for the feeling to go away, I was a bit discouraged at times and I did not know how to move on.
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I found a stepping stone that I want to share with you. (I say stepping stone, because it’s a small step in the right direction, but this is not where one should leave their aspirations to be.) In times where I would find myself hurt I started to challenge myself to no longer immediately direct my emotional reaction towards the instigator, but to put my heart on pause for awhile and to wait. After some time I’d begin to ask myself, “what good came out of this?” and to truly reflect on this question. I found that there was always a good which came in the end- whether it was in the form of an apology which led to a stronger friendship, or a further insight into my understanding of suffering that might help later on, or maybe this experience helped me gain patience and/or strength…I’ve found so many things, and all these consequences I found were in fact ones that would be useful to be a good peacemaker.
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Once I would find that good thing I would tell myself “now I can react” but I’d do so with a new perspective. I would no longer react towards the person who hurt me, but towards God. When I learned of the good I would focus on it and turn it in gratitude towards Him, thanking Him that this opportunity for growth/gift of goodness was allowed to be in my life.
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In many ways I am still learning how to do this and it’s a discipline that I know I have to keep up with, but it’s worth all the work and thought. I was thinking a lot while writing this (one would hope, haha) and was realizing how thankful I am that I found and took this step. It is so freeing. Even in the imperfect and small way that I try to take this step it has helped me. It has found for me that unburdening that I needed.
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I hope that you choose to stay hopeful and to find the good which you can hold onto coming outside of this. So often it feels that there is no way that it exists, but I promise you it does. As someone who is healing from years of despair, and is looking back through her memories, I can tell you that if you really and truly search for it, there’s always a colorful flower planted in the dirt. There always was for me, I just wasn’t looking in the right places, or I wasn’t looking hard enough.

Just a last note, I want to make sure that it doesn’t seem that I am implying there is any goodness in being hurt, or anything positive about it. I am so sorry that you are hurt, that you’ve been hurt, and are suffering. Unfortunately, that is a human experience which every life has touched at some point in their lives, in some form or another. I merely want to stress that where there is evil, or hurt, or suffering, there will always be a good – you just have to look for it.

Love, Z

In a time of complete uncertainty where many of us are having a hard time adjusting to the crisis of the world, I thought I’d share something I wrote down earlier. I have also been struggling with it, and have been trying to process it. I am trying to grow and thrive in this condition, but it is hard. I am in my final semester of school, one I have pushed through for five years because I knew it was God’s will, and it was a good place for me. Believe me, it was a struggle to stay sometimes though through the journey I’ve learned to fall in love with so much. This was my semester to close the chapter, and to graduate. Of course, in just a few days I was flying back home – leaving all my stuff behind, having said goodbye to only a few of my friends, and then learning later that week that coming back will probably not be a possibility this semester, neither a graduation ceremony. I was supposed to have a few more months to figure everything out, where my next move was, enjoy these last few months etc… and I’m sure many of you are going through similar things.

Before I write this down though, I just want to say that it is okay that you are struggling. We are not meant to have to lose so much nor are we meant to be okay with sickness or death around us. We are not supposed to have to be worried about our next meals, how we’re going to pay our rent, when the next time we can see our loved ones are…We are also not meant to feel shamed for these emotions, as so many are today. I am so sorry that/if this is a reality in your life. I am so so sorry that you are afraid, or are lonely, or sad. It shouldn’t be this way.

… march, 2020.

I surrendered to your will, Lord. It was hard. You remember me crying and being frustrated. I remember struggling with You, sometimes cussing your name- why, I asked. But You, Lord, you brought me through when no one else could. You took my hand, You wiped my tears, You taught me to learn how to say your name gently again. You helped me, Lord, and I was happy. But here I am, on rocky ground…. Everything which I thought we worked on together in the past few years seems to be unstable, and it’s unfinished. I thought we were meant to enjoy it a little longer together. But here I am again, Lord, on unstable ground, trying to recalibrate.

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Sometimes I wonder why you don’t allow me to enjoy the things I work on. In the past it often seemed that I would work, and these things would be torn from me.

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But then, Lord, I am not alone in this. I realized today that I have done the same exact thing to you so many times yet You were always ready to start from the beginning with me- unfailingly, and without complaint. Lord, I brought myself to you promising friendship over and over throughout my life. I promised you that this was it- this was the day I’d come to you and never leave, that I’d always try to be your friend, that I’d do everything a friend should do. I told you that I loved you, that I’d work on all my bad habits that are keeping you and I apart…

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But I haven’t, have I. Every time we worked on that friendship together, I ended up tearing it down. Lord, I’ve torn it down so many times. I’ve insulted you, I’ve turned away your love, I’ve thrown away your gifts with distaste. I watched you bring me through the hard times, I’ve watched you gift me with things I asked for, and I still let you down.

But You, Lord, you have never let me go. You always started over with me, You take my hand again, You help me learn again… every single time. I don’t deserve you as a friend, yet there you are with me, waiting for me to turn back to you every time I shut you out.

So here I am again, Lord. I’m coming to you because I am hurt, but I realize also what I’ve done to You, and I try to come without demand. I try to come to you in humility, Lord. I try to ask you, Lord, wherever I am and wherever you want me to be, please let them coincide.

So here I am tonight, Lord, hopeful. I am hopeful because I know you will be there to hold my hand, just like you did before. I am hopefully because I know you are there, even when I am down on the ground. I am hopefully because you never let me down. I just pray that I will be able to hold on more tightly than ever to your hand, and to follow you again to the next step.

It’s a regular day, in an every day city, and I’m in the middle of it. I enter the train with the rest of the commuters and look around. The people cram in, talking and chatting, some crying, some sullen, some drunk…and I can feel it. I feel it all and somehow I know how they feel. I put my earphones in, trying to focus on one thing…focus on one thing…focus. I breath it out.

Five minutes later.

The next train stop, the next slew of people. Now we’re more crammed, now there are more noises so I turn my music up, trying to focus on one thing…focus on one thing…focus. {Sensitivity & Awareness, in need of love}

I look up and he’s looking at me, I turn to the right, she’s looking at me…my palms get sweaty, my heart starts racing, is there something wrong? What’s on my face? What have I done wrong? Have I offended someone? I put my head down, trying to focus on one thing…looking at the strands of fabric on my jeans…focus on one thing….focus. { Anxiety, in need of love }

Flashback. Panic. I smell his cologne, is he here? Where is that smell coming from? I bury my nose into my backpack, close my eyes, and rush out at the next stop. Was it him, or was it someone just wearing the same perfume? {PTSD, in need of love}

Wow, she’s so beautiful, I think, as I tug on my ripped jeans. I glance up and look at how she’s done her makeup…I wish I did mine like that. Her hair, I wish mine was that beautiful..oh look she’s smiling, wow she’s stunning. I wish I were like her. I lower my eyes, another chip has fallen off of my self esteem. {Insecurity, in need of love}

I get in the tram, just like every single day, and I feel like I can’t do this anymore. My job is awful, my coworkers leave me out, no one tips me correctly, I have no friends, my rent is due….why is life so horrible to me? Why me? I’m angry, again. I’m sad, again. Where is life going? {Disappointed & Worn out, in need of love}

I get in the tram, I put in my earphones and ride the tram. (In need of love.)

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We will never know what people are going through around us, but there is one thing we can know, that everyone is in need of love including ourselves.

even a loving smile has the ability to change someone’s day around, and a scowl, the ability to change someone’s day also.

Be aware of your surroundings, be kind to the people around you.

Xx

Dear Zélie-Louise,

In the past you were thankful for your family, your friends, your house, your pets, your education and so on. This year I want you to be thankful for yourself on top of all of the above. And here is why:

You are blessed because you have LIFE – and though it is a good one filled with blessings, you should be thankful because you know there were those few times that you almost lost it, or the times that you almost threw it away … Zélie, you still have life and you have recently begun to guard it preciously- something you might not have in the past. You learned to realize the worth of your life, you learned to want to live it, you learned how to try to live it to it’s fullest. You learned to want more than to throw it away. Zélie, you learned to live.

You are healthy – and by healthy I mean that you care about your health. I look at you take your pills in the morning, I look at you take the rest you need, I see you have made the decision to go to therapy… You care about yourself, I can see that now. I no longer watch you drink and then pop multiple pain killers, I no longer watch you stay up all night filling the emptiness with things, I no longer see you hold everything in to yourself and losing your mind in a circle of hurt.

You are successful and smart – though you may deny it on too daily of a basis. Look at how far you’ve come, Zélie- you will be graduating with a Masters degree at age 21 this year. Look at how God gave you gifts and you used them and strengthened them and are coming to such an accomplishment. Do you remember how you applied and got accepted into a university at 16? That was already huge but you brought it further, and even if it all began in tears and your notebooks have too many scribbles and question marks, you never thought you’d be as far as you are now…learning and reading the things that you are.

You are beautiful, inside and out – You have opened up and are honest about your reality, and try to lift up everything to a happy note. You used to hide yourself in makeup and never expressed a strong opinion . . . you watered yourself down into dull existence. You were happy on the outside, but cared little about the inside. You were hurting, and faking it, and not doing anything about it. Now you have accepted that, and are working with yourself. Not only that but you’re honest to other people about it, and walk slowly the journey to peace.

You are strong – I watched you stand up after every single time you fell, or you were pushed. I watched you struggle through addictions, whether it be pornography, alcohol, pain killers, self harm, attention from others, and so on- you came out on top every.single.time. I watch and see how you comfort yourself and pick yourself up again after every time you fall, and how you’ve learned not to beat yourself up about it. I watched you dry your tears and learn to love yourself after emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. I watched you learn how to love yourself and your quirks and faults despite your struggles, despite the countless of things done to you or said to you, I watched you through it Zélie, and your journey has turned out beautiful. You rose up above those who abused you. You rose up above those who used you. You rose up above those who thought badly of you. You rose up above those who spoke badly about you. You rose up above those who didn’t believe in you. You rose up against yourself, who was your biggest enemy.

Today, Zélie-Louise, rise up against yourself. You hated yourself, you thought yourself to be the weakest and useless human in the world. Today is the day that I see you can rise up above that thought and realize the falsehood of this reaction

I want you, reading this, to be thankful of yourself today. Give me reasons, why are you thankful for yourself? You should be. Today is the day to break your thoughts about yourself and reform them.

This year, Zélie-Louise, I want you to be thankful for you.

You are alive.

You are healthy.

You are successful.

You are beautiful.

You Are Strong.

Dear friends,

Today marks a sad day, one I will never stop talking about: November 13th. Today marks a day where so many around me lost their lives due to a huge act of injustice. Today marks the day where four years ago hearts broke and shattered, minds were paralysed in fear, where friends lost each other, where children lost their parents and parents their children. Today four years ago, something unthinkable happened, and I was there in the midst of it.

Little did I know what life would be afterwards, and I was the lucky one. I can’t tell you of any other event in my life which had such an impact. I imagine it often as the one which left me closest to broken. I was numb and shattered inside. My journey afterwards was an ugly one, but one where I somehow stayed one foot in the light, where I found Jesus and held on, even though I didn’t know why I was holding on. Half of me sobbed the words out “why couldn’t it have been me instead of them” so many times, half of me lashed out tragically onto myself, half of me lived with terror in the dark…but that other half of me held onto something I didn’t quite understand yet, the Light.

I write this to you today because I will never forget these moments in time, and they haunt me even until today – “don’t worry, papa. your daughter is safe” were the first words I sent to my father, but how many people didn’t get to send the same things to their father? So many beautiful innocent people were laid down that night, leaving this world in an imprint of violence. So many hearts mourn the 13th of November in their every day and for that I am so sorry. I pray to God that each and every one of them are happy in His arms. Though I know all too well that sometimes that doesn’t take away the pain, sometimes we just want to hold our loved ones in our arms, we want them back. I imagine them somehow in my every day, nudging me to continue, pushing me to move forward because I survived and I at least owe this to them.

For today I leave you this memory. This excerpt is from the next day, November 14th, my route to safety. My friends were picking me up and bringing me outside of Paris, I just had to get to them which meant the Metro as everything was closed to cars. I left on the metro in the evening with the words stuck in my head, “we expect more attacks. . .they want to achieve more casualties…” something I had heard the night before.

Metro:

tight hugs goodbye, to be left to myself. Into the night I went, me and my backpack. Terror made the air stink, silence haunted us, and everyone…restless. I had little idea where I was except that the world knew all too well. Exposed to the world was this arrondissement, shaken with violence. I bought my ticket, and went to the metro. I took a seat by the door, unfolded the chair and pressed my back against the wall. My comfort was that no one was behind me, I pressed even harder. My backpack was being held tightly on my lap as I stared out at the broken crowd in front of me – scanning the room almost unconsciously for danger when I realized, that was me to them … we were all that to each other. No one was safe anymore, no one was an innocent bystander…we were all a “what if.” What are they looking at though? Oh. My backpack. Their eyes were glued to my backpack. I wanted to scream that they were safe – that I too was just trying to get to a safe home. But instead I just looked back with my bloodshot eyes. The metro shook, stopped, lights flickered — came to a stop … I can’t remember how many times before I arrived again, into the cold night air. Yet every time that those metro doors opened we all held our breath, on alert. Sometimes all I wanted to do was close my eyes as if I were in a bad dream but I knew to keep them open, ready to run. Where? I still don’t know. But I knew I had to be ready.

“don’t worry, papa. your daughter is safe.”

I write to you four years later, with that same broken heart. But I’ve learned that the same girl who texted those words is still in me, and I must allow her the time she needs to heal, and to grow. These past few days I’ve yearned for some peace, as I cried in the classroom or in church, or all those hours that I slept off panic attacks…but though I yearn for it, and work for it, I cannot allow myself to feel any less for these reactions.

I share these things with you so that if you one day see your classmate wiping away tears, or that boy or girl who always looks tired, or the ones with scars up and down their arms … don’t laugh, don’t judge… love. You have no idea what they’re going through. And never shame someone for these reactions because they need their time, and chances are, they already are beating themselves up enough as it is. Be there for your neighbor, the world is already a cruel enough place as it is.

Today I mourn the loss of 131 innocent victims, and I mourn the peace and joy that was robbed from so many more. Today I am back wandering the streets of Paris in my mind, stopping to see the shattered glass, blood stains, and dropping on my knees…today I cry against injustice.

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“don’t worry, papa. your daughter is safe….”

The most important thing to know about how to even begin talking about the topic of suicide and/or suicidal thoughts/tendencies etc., is that it affects so many, even those you’d never suspect. I have been proven wrong on so many occasions by just supposing that “person a” would never be going through it. Your coworkers, your family members, your friends, acquaintances, church members, the homeless man on your street, that celebrity you look up to, etc… it could be any one of their difficulties in their lives. I picture the concept of a suicidal thought as a dark thread sewing through the world, the needle piercing through as many people as possible, bringing them under a dark blanket. Sometimes one can get so lost in the blanket, feels there’s no escape, and looks for a drastic way out.

I am a survivor. I have not actively decided and attempted to take my life, but the thought to has crossed my mind a few too many times in the past and I have certainly done things which could have resulted in the loss of my life. I won’t get into details of those instances because I can’t see them producing any result except being triggering to my readers, but it is enough that you know it has been on my mind. I cannot describe to you how I felt on those occasions because there are truly no words to. The only picture which comes to mind that I could paint is that of a dull submission to pain, when one steps out of the light.

No one knew at the time – I had never told anyone. But this is exactly the reason why it is so important for me to share — because people are aware, but not aware enough. We know that it affects some in the world, but are we really aware that it could be someone in our life, even if we don’t actively know about it?

I remember pondering with the idea of putting myself under suicide watch, but then I told myself that there was no actual danger because I was too scared to take my life. I also didn’t want to put school aside or any of the other things at the time that I deemed more important than my mental health and stability. Was that the right thing to do? No, and I know and knew that. I was foolish because what if I wasn’t strong enough one day to do away with the temptations? What if one day I wasn’t scared anymore?

A note to you, loves, it is not a weakness to go to someone for help, or even to put yourself into a hospital. It is strength – you are rebelliously standing up against the darkness, you are taking control over your own body and wanting for it something better. This act of defiance is beautiful, really. And I am sorry that I did not realize this at the time that I needed to.

So, what are we to do with this awareness? Here are just a few ideas that come to my mind as I’m writing this. (Of course, there are infinite small ways in which we can foster a loving, accepting, and helpful community.)

For one, we can strive to be more supportive, more loving, and more attentive to our neighbor’s needs and feelings. I will not pretend that I’m an expert at this, in fact, in many instances I’m a hypocrite when it comes to this. I look for what I want and need, but lack the giving aspect as well. But if we all try our very best every day, and I mean the truest form of trying, than I believe we can already make a better community to live in.

A small way to do this would be to educate ourselves on small things such as the awareness of different personalities and what the different love languages are, maybe other people need different things than you do, and give differently than you would. Maybe others take words in a stronger meaning than you, and your jokes are hurtful to them. Maybe even though your friend knows you’re busy he/she is just aching for a message saying that though you’re busy, you’re thinking of them.

Another would be instead of passing by your neighbors and not looking in their direction or looking down at the floor, smile at the stranger passing by, meet their eyes with a kind face. It goes an incredibly long way. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, “even a smile can change the world,” well, let’s see it.

Be genuine and heartfelt about knowing how someone is. When you ask “how are you” make sure that they know you mean it, because often times it can be meant and taken as just a mechanical response to a hello. Take the time to listen to their response, and let them know that you’d give them that time.

Be grateful about your life. Remind your friends and those around you why you’re happy with your life, or what you love about life …provoke them to respond and have them be inspired by your responses, or have them search for their own responses.

…and so many more. Today should be about really taking the time to think about the small changes that you could make in your day that you believe could help.

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I am happy that I survived that time of my life and I am now able to share part of my story with you, the story of a survivor. And while doing so, I will be trying to lift up that blanket for you, as I try to hold it off myself as well. We can do this, you and me. <3

Let this be the last awareness day where we read but do not change. Let this be the day that we change the little things in our lives and try our hardest to be supportive in all the little things we do.

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as an ending note I’d like to stress the importance of reaching out to a friend or professional if you’re feeling depressed or suicidal in any way. Please know that you can. I did not share my story today to show that you can go through this alone — I shared my story to show that these thoughts and feelings can affect anyone, but I should not have tried to go through it alone.

To be Pro Life:

It is easy to identify ones self with a label, not taking into account all that it entails. It’s a trend which I see many doing, including myself. I call myself Pro Life and have been public about it for a while now, however, I confess that in the past I haven’t been such a good example. To be Pro Life means more than merely being against abortion, as one can even see alluded to in it’s title, and that’s what I want to write about. What does it mean to be Pro Life?

To be Pro Life means that one is to love, accept, and support all forms and stages of life surrounding him/her. Life is not something that one should take lightly. It is incredible how you and I are alive right now and incredible that we were given life. I know the feeling of being close to death, almost robbed of life myself. I also know just how quickly life can be taken away. It is truly a gift that you and I should cherish and protect.

It is often found that in critiques there are traces, if not full accounts, of the truth. I’ve found that in my case, as I can only speak of personal experience on this matter, Pro Life critics have been correct. One of the largest critiques being: “you call yourself pro life, you petition for the lives of those in the womb, but what are you doing for us?”

Unfortunately they are right. What have I done in the past for everyone? What have I done to those close to me, those I’ve encountered in my life? — I’ve spoken badly of many of you, judged, cheated, lied, laughed, used, blamed, and not accepted many of you… and the list could go on for pages if I tried to write it all down. None of this behaviour was Pro Life; in fact, it was completely and absolutely incompatible with the meaning of those words.

To be Pro Life means to uplift every person outside of the womb as much as inside. To be Pro Life means to uplift every person no matter their difference in ethnicity, religion, gender, etc. Every person, as person, deserves respect, love, and support. So we, those who call themselves Pro Life, must ask ourselves as we are campaigning for our future generation, what are we doing for our present generation as well? This is not an either/or issue but a both/and.

There are so many ways that one can help, you just have to search and you’ll find. But maybe even more so, we can focus on our every day actions and the impact that they hold. What image are we attaching to ourselves? Are we really showing ourselves to be truly Pro Life? We must look at ourselves before we throw the stone, if you read the Bible I’m sure you’ll find that quote familiar. It is time for each and every one of us to stand up, face our faults, and try harder.

As I come to a close, I’d like to apologize to every single one of you. I know to many, if not most, I have not been my best self and have maybe hurt or offended you in the past. For that, and everything else, I am sorry. I can only leave you with the fact that I am trying my best to become a better person, and to live up to the standard of what being Pro Life means. I pray that with every day it might become more and more true.

Xx

I’m sitting alone in a beautiful house in Ireland on a Sunday afternoon, cuppa in hand watching the wind blow leaves across the yard. I’ve been looking out the wall of windows admiring the beauty of it all in silence. Moments like these are so hard for me, they are a real work to achieve. I have to fight myself to have this silence where my mind is not bombarded by thoughts. That’s the life of an anxious over-thinker I suppose.

Today is special though. Today I feel real peace, something I haven’t felt in a long time.

…Which is why I decided it would be the best time that I could write about this…I’ve struggled these past three months on whether to write it, whether it’s appropriate, or whether it’s even worth it. But it’s time, so here it is.

April 10th , your brother told me the news. The words are engraved in my brain, “he is gone.” I was at my friends place in the middle of dinner when I received this and could just feel the world shatter around me. I began to sob and told them what happened as I ran out of the room. I ran back to my apartment and lost it, screaming and crying while my roommate held me. I had to tell my parents, I had to tell my family. I could barely get words out of my mouth as I gave the news to them. I cried myself through the night, holding onto your picture. I read through our conversations, and had to soak up every word, realizing they were our last ones together on earth. I cried when I read through our plans to meet up, all of our talking about buying plane tickets when you were back from your trip to South America . . . I looked at what you texted me last summer, “maybe we’re cursed and we will never see each other again.” To which my answer was “that’s a sad thought,” and yours again, “right but it’s also untrue, I’m not worried.” These words I cling to, you knew even more than me that we’d see each other again one day, and that we’d get to finish all our unfinished conversations.

Thibaud, I still look up to the sky and try to see you, I still close my eyes and hope to hear you laugh. I go to pray in the hopes that you will come and hug me, that God would grant me a visit from you. I hear your laugh, I picture your smile, and I feel your hug, but only in my memories. I know you’d never want me to be this sad, nor your friends and family, but we can’t help it. The loss of you in our lives holds such a big weight. I know for me I lost someone that I loved, the first guy I ever truly loved, too. You were the first guy to hold my hand, to look at me and appreciate me. You always made me feel loved, and were empathetic and caring. Not only that but you could make me laugh, and could carry a good conversation with me. Though we didn’t talk every day, or quite often, we always knew that we had one another.

The last words I ever got from you were, “Hey, how are you? I tried to have a constructive debate today . . . . . it made me realize how open minded you are and I wanted to tell you to keep it that way.”

Okay, Thibaud. I’ll try. But you better be helping me from up there.

It’s been three and a half months but you’re in my thoughts and prayers every day. I’m trying to stay strong, just like you’d want me to. But even just writing a post here, and knowing you won’t be reading it, hurts. You read my blog and asked me, “why aren’t you depressed and bored by life like most people?” Well, Thibaud, I guess you now have the answer. We all have something up there to look forward to now, don’t we?

I love and miss you, Thibs.

Zelie