Dear Body,

I’m reaching out to ask why I’ve faced so many diagnoses. I understand that you wanted me to take care of myself and grow, but it’s hard to see how to improve when I’ve been given experiences I never asked for. These challenges have made life incredibly difficult for me. I struggle to return to the active person I once was, and I find it hard to maintain a job or have a fulfilling personal or relationship life.

Imagine feeling unable to move around your own home or unable to clean like others do. My stomach issues interfere every time I try to perform my daily duties. Everything I’ve endured has been a struggle, but you seem to just observe whatever I do or consume.

Despite the difficulties, I want to express my gratitude for helping me recognize the signs that we’ve faced many challenges together. There have also been some positive experiences along the way. I’ve managed to bring our body back to a comfortable and happy state. However, it’s still a struggle when it comes to food and our favorite coffee drinks, though the results are looking positive.

I promise I will be here for the adventures ahead, even if they’re not always pleasant. I will do my best to take care of us, no matter how long we have left.

Thank you,
Your Owner

In the bustling city of Huntington, Amanda had always felt like an outsider, a piece that never quite fit into the puzzle of life. Surviving a tumultuous childhood marked by trauma, her journey began with the heavy weight of her past. Experiences of abuse and betrayal had woven a complex tapestry of PTSD, anxiety, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, and oppositional defiant disorder into her daily existence.

Amanda was a survivor; her resilience was forged in the fires of her struggles. After each nightmare she faced, she would find herself in therapy, seeking to untangle the knots of her pain. Her therapist, Dr. Lewis, a compassionate and wise woman, became her guiding star. Together, they explored the darkest corners of Amanda’s mind, shedding light on the shadows that loomed large.

One day, while sitting in Dr. Lewis’s office, Amanda recounted a recent episode of overwhelming anxiety that had left her paralyzed. As tears spilled down her cheeks, she expressed the fear of her past overshadowing her future. Dr. Lewis listened intently, then gently encouraged her to turn her pain into power. “You have a story worth telling. Your experiences can inspire others,” she said.

Motivated by their conversation, Amanda decided to channel her emotions into writing. She began to craft a memoir, narrating her struggles with honesty and vulnerability. Words poured from her heart, each sentence a step towards healing. As she wrote, she found solace, and with each chapter, the weight of her past began to lift.

Gradually, she built a community, connecting with others who faced similar battles through support groups. There, Amanda met Carol, a fellow survivor whose laughter was infectious despite her scars. The bond they formed allowed Amanda to glimpse hope in the eyes of another. Through sharing their stories, they discovered the strength of standing together, breaking the silence that had long surrounded them.

Amanda also found comfort in creativity, immersing herself in painting. With every brushstroke, she transformed her chaos into color, creating vibrant images that represented her journey. She titled her pieces “Mosaics of Strength,” each one a testament to resilience and beauty rising from brokenness. Her art caught the attention of a local gallery, leading to her first exhibition, where she showcased both her paintings and readings from her memoir.

On the night of the opening, Amanda stood in front of a gathering of friends, family, and strangers, her heart racing. As she read excerpts from her book, her voice trembled but grew more confident with each word. The audience listened intently, moved by her honesty and courage. By the end, tears glistened in their eyes, and applause erupted, filling the room like a warm embrace.

Despite the challenges that lay ahead, Amanda felt empowered. She understood that healing was not linear, and there would still be difficult days filled with anxiety or depressive episodes. But now, she had a toolkit—therapy, art, and a supportive community to lean on.

As she glanced around the room, she realized that she was not just a survivor of her past; she had become a beacon of hope for others. Amanda learned to embrace her journey, celebrating her survival with every step forward—a mosaic of strength, uniquely beautiful in its imperfections. With a heart full of hope and a voice to share, she reminded others that it’s okay to seek help, to share their stories, and to believe in the possibility of brighter days.

Sitting alone in the sounds of country time music soaring around. Looking down, wondering why critters feel like they need to feed, and you see their footprints on your skin. The answers that are floating around need to sink into the warmth that somehow brings the inspiration of the day to go by, wondering in all the sounds that move around the space, how can these things about your day make it go by?

Dear Community,

I wanted to take a moment to share my weight loss journey and the struggles that came with it. After having my two kids in 2015, I found myself struggling to lose weight. My mom and I explored various diet plans, went for walks, and even signed up for Nutrisystem. For a while, it seemed to work, but I wasn’t getting the results I had hoped for.

In 2018, after realizing that I might not be able to lose the weight, I made the difficult decision to have my tubes tied. This procedure was necessary because, given my health at the time, having more children could have posed serious risks for both me and the baby. After the surgery, the doctors warned me that I would face additional health issues if I didn’t find a way to lose weight.

In 2019, I discovered that I was eligible for weight loss surgery. Despite being a smoker at the time, I didn’t want to reach 300 pounds before turning 30. So, I chose to follow my dad’s advice and underwent the required health tests and exams to see if I could qualify for surgery. I had to attend a six-month course, go through nicotine screenings, and undergo a comprehensive health evaluation to determine if my body could handle the procedure.

After all the tests were completed, I learned some new things about my health that I hadn’t known before. I was approved for surgery, and in February 2020, my weight dropped from a high of 285 pounds to 244 pounds by the time I went into the operating room.

The day after the surgery, I was diagnosed with a hiatal hernia, GERD, and gastritis. It wasn’t until a year later that I found out I needed my gallbladder removed due to severe stomach issues that occurred every time I ate or drank anything. As it turned out, I was also dealing with malabsorption syndrome.

Currently, my weight has continued to drop, and I’ve reached a point where I can wear my stepdaughter’s clothes. Since having the surgery, I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone considering it, as it can dramatically change your life. However, I also stress the importance of taking your health seriously throughout this journey. Although I’ve felt better since the surgery, I wish I hadn’t faced these complications. So far, I have gone from 285 pounds to 118 pounds.

Thank you for reading my story.

You can see us on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We are hardly a sight for sore eyes
We are dirty and vacant
With ripped clothes and sad faces
We wear this as our new disguise.
See some time ago
We were regular people
Until something in life got us down
Whether it heartbreak or money
Family or lack of
There’s something we needed to drown
The voices in our heads
That tell us we aren’t worth shit
Or The memories we just can’t move on from
Maybe it’s trauma or sadness
Or just basic madness
Fill in the blank with your own noun
It ripped us apart
And it spit out the pieces
And robbed us of all we once cherished
We were desperate for relief
So we followed the dragon
We got lost on the way; our souls perished.
Now as is probably Expected
Pretty much textbook
We burn bridges with selfish behavior
Some of us come back
And they find inner peace
And usually they call it their savior
But some of us misfits
The world has forgotten
We’re broken and fucked up
downright dirty and rotten
Someone or something has shattered our hearts
And we know that we’re never the same
So we escape all the pain
With powder or pills
And we find ourselves stuck in this game
We spiral and wander
Away from reality
And further down into the abyss
The people around us
eventually give up
Cause what’s even still there to miss?
We are just scumbags on street corners
Or down the dark alleys
We’re junkies; unfortunate souls
We fucked up, we get it
We don’t need reminded
Please shut up or spark up a bowl

Dissatisfied, looking unbothered
Smiles on the outside
With holding information.
Why waste my breath on explaining?
I’m learning to vent through
Poetry and music.
That’s the best way to
Get to know me,
I’m even getting to know myself.
As I sit back and think
Of my impatient past, with
Social anxiety. Had to basically
Learn how to live without the use of
Opiates, I was constantly sedated
For year’s. Knew I had to quit.
Then eventually went cold turkey,
I could probably say Marijuana
Helped me. I’ve attempted to quit
Multiple times go 3 to 5 days
Going through a sickness. Withdrawals
Are no joke when it comes to this.
So I used Marijuana to help
With my appetite and insomnia.
& alleviate my anxiety,
I’ve tried prescriptions
For it but I lost weight &
My appetite. So I let those go to.
To me it wasn’t worth it,
I have even come to a hatred
For pills in general.
Broke some bones after being
Clean. I’ve denied any pain meds
I couldn’t handle the thought of me
Out here hurting inside like that
Again. For years I’ve hidden it
But then eventually people see
And it’s not hidden.
Trying to hide the rattling sounds
Of a prescription,
Went and seen a shrink
Asking questions about how
I feel and think. I did this voluntarily,
In search for answers!
Then went off into
The abyss, as my biological body
Has adapted to certain things
Creating new proteins.
Another moment that turned
Out scary and exciting.
Development of knowledge
As I start to become it.
Now I’m reflecting it,
This is just my story, my
Experience, my testament.
They say we’re all the same
But what works for me
Could be different for other’s.
In my opinion from my
New found perception.
This is just part of my Development
We’re all out here with different views,
Different struggles, different battles.
In every culture in every religion
What it really comes down
To is the belief system.
Integrated with information
Like a genetic memory.
The DNA within,
Conflicting as it’s constantly changing.
Influenced with intuition,
Brings up another point about
Family & traditions, cultural & environmental
Experience. we’re all brought up different
They say only elephants hold
A genetic memory,
But, doesn’t everything have
A natural instinct?
Working on my crown
As I build my wisdom & connection.
I’m very thankful & feel
Extremely blessed to climb
Out of that addiction.

a journal on humility
who are you when you have nothing? when you allow yourself to break and sit in emptiness? who are you when there is nobody to motivate you, push you? who are you when it’s just you in a dark room working through battles? how many times can you get knocked down and still be the same person at your core? do you stay true to who you are or does life’s battles turn you into the worst version of yourself? when do you allow life to turn you cold? or do you? do you stay soft, embracing the vulnerability, the rawness of our humanity?

training for a marathon has changed my life. and I’m sure that has been said over and over from others who train for marathons, but I think I have a differing perspective. I started running not knowing I could even run a mile, but I surprised myself with two miles and decided to keep pushing myself to do more. I fell in love with the process and wanting to start gearing my training towards a goal: a marathon. as someone with asthma and vocal cord dysfunction, I knew I would have to adjust in order to complete this hefty task of a marathon. it isn’t easy to relearn how to breathe. and since I have taken on this intensity of training, I have seen some really hard days. the kind of hard days that remind you of your humanity. running through below freezing temperatures, running half marathons on no sleep, running any hour of the day or night, running through stomach issues. all of that will keep you humble if nothing else in life has.

I started seeking humility. seeing how much I can brave through. how tough I really am. and part of that is trauma I’ve accrued throughout life but part of that is finding joy in struggle. finding joy in accomplishing things that are seemingly impossible in the beginning.

I’ve learned as long as you have yourself, you can push yourself through anything. training for a marathon can be so lonely. you learn how to motivate yourself. how to take care of yourself. people may not understand when you have to wake up extra early, run at 2am, miss nights out drinking, squeeze runs in, cancel plans to run. you have to be committed enough to the goal you’ve set to be there for yourself- when nobody else gets it, you will.

my dad always said that as soon as you claim yourself to be humble, you are no longer humble. and I’ve been walking the fine line of staying humble and attaining a great deal of pride. pride is often seen as negative, as one’s hubris. someone who is too prideful comes off as a bad person, egotistical. I wish not to be egotistical, self-centered. that’s why I do the things that will bring me back to my roots, humble me. ground me. it’s grounding to struggle four hours through a run and still make it out. tough conditions like freezing rain will remind you that you’re human. where is the line? I feel as though when we are prideful in a positive way, confidence exudes from us and inspires others to take on an insane task too. pride can be contagious, in a beautifully impactful way. on the opposition, humility can be taken too far. as the man who is too humble knows not their capabilities- they will live in a state of comfort.

I like to live in a way that reminds me I am human- being human is a beautiful thing. when we live in a way that is comfortable, we go blind to the simple facts of the world. we forget our luck that it took the universe to bring us here. we skate through life and allow it to be as is. that’s why we ought to strive for toughness. strive to conquer our fears. strive to live in discomfort, often. they say comfort kills growth but really, the growth never started. the lack of acknowledgment of who we are will keep you out of touch with the world. it’s special to be able to feel attached, in tune with the world. to be reminded that we are a product of the universe. and as easily as we were brought here without knowing, without asking, the opposing could happen. we could disappear from the physicality of the universe.

that’s why it’s important to be reminded of your humanity. as we ought not to go through life forgetting how special it is. not everyone was granted today. use the day. too many people allow it to pass. why would you waste a day not everyone was given? to be so selfish is the opposite of what it is to be humble.

so I run, I train hard. I put effort into my mind, body, and/or spirit every single day. I give myself love, a lot of times tough love. I take advantage of the sun, I chase it, even. for the sun only comes out for so long, to bring us warmth and remind us that even the simple gifts are to be enjoyed. the sun comes and goes to remind us of the impermanence of all things good. that things need to experience darkness to appreciate the light.

that’s part of running, experiencing some serious darkness and tough times in order to reap the benefits. some runs you have to be brave enough to tough it out. teach yourself to stick through hard things. how to show up for yourself when everything sucks. how to remain in touch with the world. how to stay grounded. how to not let pride overtake. as my proudest moments have come from the other side of darkness. pride is a direct product of struggle.

those who allow themselves to be humble, to experience struggle and pain achieve a level of pride that is earned. you earn pride. if pride is displaced, that is where is forms into ego, cockiness. only when pride is deserved will it come off as humble. only then will others be inspired by the feats you took on, conquered. until then, maybe you’re full of it. maybe you need to be grounded somehow. most people do. but it’s all part of walking the walk. embodying the things you strive to represent. identify with.

imposter syndrome and the dunning-kruger effect rival. as some feel undeserving, unaware of their capabilities. and some lack self-awareness to the extremity of believing they are invincible, in a way. unwarranted confidence versus lack of confidence. and, somewhere in-between the two, you might find someone who knows struggle, who finds there way through it. who deserves the pride they exude. that is true confidence, humility, humanity. the coexistence of the best and worst parts of yourself. acknowledging the parts of yourself that are weak. being proud of the parts of yourself that are strong. learning what it means to be human.

I’m living in a body that does not have the capability to stay awake.
I’m held captive trying to get through each day, knowing I could shut down at any moment.
My eyes are heavy.
My head pulsates.
I disengage before I even give consent.

I’m so tired all the time.
I need a nap after basic things.
Shower. Nap.
Cook. Nap.
Eat. Nap.

The yawning is uncontrollable and a clear indicator.
I wonder if i could get assistance but don’t want others to view me as lazy or taking the easy way out.
Is my disability valid enough?
Will sympathy be shown for this unconventional disorder?
It’s hard to relate to anyone.
People often tell me we are all tired.
But I know that not everyone contemplates sleeping in a bathroom stall at work daily.
I know others could get a good nights rest and a boost from their favorite cup of coffee.
I know others don’t go to war with themselves about walking out just to go home and rest .. leaving my family financially unstable and confused.

As I write this, my eyes feel heavy.
They burn a little.
My head and neck give out occasionally.
I’m uncomfortable yet again.
And I don’t see any resolution in sight.
I’m chronically fatigued.

Everyone, I believe, has their struggles with mental health. For me, I deal with PTSD, mood swings, and depression. Some days are good, but other days, I just want to stay in my room and shut out the world. I have my crying days, especially as I reflect on the loss of my dad in January 2020, the heartbreak of losing my baby in 2021, and recently, walking away from a relationship I wanted but knew wasn’t good for me.

These experiences caused setbacks in my mental health. Adding to that, earlier this year, I was injured while trying to protect an officer during an assault. The lack of care and support from some of the people I work with only made it worse. After more than 12 years on the job, I’ve faced workplace bullying and lies against my name. I’ve had to accept that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay.

PTSD brings its own challenges—it can make me angry or deeply depressed at times. But explaining that to others often feels impossible, so I don’t. Instead, I turn to prayer, trust in God, and meditation to help me navigate these struggles. These practices have become my lifeline, helping me find peace and strength to keep moving forward despite the setbacks.

I’m not where I want to be yet, but I’m on my way, taking steps to heal and improve every day.

At 11 years old I wrote my first suicide letter and attempted suicide for the first time at age 16. Throughout the years I struggled with suicidal behavior and attempted suicide many times. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, social-anxiety disorder and PTSD. This resulted in me self medicating, with alcohol and prescription drugs that I used to numb a very wounded journey that was often judged, misunderstood and never discussed in my family. In December of 2009, a high school classmate and close friend, Stepf Hiser, took his life just a few weeks after our high school reunion. I did not attend and regret till this day, missing seeing him that last time. It was so devasting for everyone because very few knew he struggled, yet we had been soldiers in the trenches of our mental health battle together, my comrade and confidante. Then in 2012, I lost yet another dear loved one to suicide. In 2014, Stepf came to me in dream, put his arms around me and we talked about helping others in the struggle to avoid such a painful existence and exit. I awoke from that drean visit with a promise in my heart, yet that would not reach fruition until after seasons full of many losses sealing my commitment to being sober and to one day help others who struggle with mental health. I started walking and volunteering with AFSP since. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, domestic abuse, community violence, addiction, who has a mental health condition and suicide attempts under my belt; I use to be ashamed to feel or be viewed as this “Posterchild of tragedy.” But once the most high gave me the strength, I finally found the courage to #BeTheVoice to share my story with others to promote healing, bring awareness and love. I then humbly became a “Posterchild of testimony.” It’s been a challenging journey of tenacity; yet since 2017, with a group of other survivors, I am one of the co-founders and President of Project W.I.N.G.S. Our mission “We Inspire Nurture Guide and Support anyone affected by a mental heart disorder and/or a mental health crisis within our community.” I am so grateful to be here to represent not only Project W.I.N.G.S, but every suicide attempt and suicide loss survivors everywhere. You are never alone and you are forever loved!
My, Our and Their story is not over ;