My college graduation

Today is a proud day. I was finally able to have a graduation ceremony with my family watching, it wasn’t the one I expected but I am still blessed. I never thought this day would come, I struggled so much during my high school years, I dealt with learning disablities and trauma and just graduating from high school was a feat for me.

Even though I made the effort after high school, I didn’t believe a college degree was in the cards, it seemed daunting and I didn’t have the confidence to take college courses and soon dropped out. But slowly but surely, I did take classes, I passed them and gained my confidence.

I entered a program of study that I was passionate about and I flourished. And the last semester was a really struggle; being forced to take a course that I have learning disabilities in, I must have taken this math class at least 3 times and dropped out each time, I was so frustrated and I felt stupid. I thought I would never graduate and eventually had to petition the school to allow to subsitute the math class ( which is something they rarely did) Through a lot of meetings with the school and prayers, by the grace of God, I managed to get a subsitute class and I passed it, leading to me to finally get my degree.

So today, I can say what I never thought I could say, I am a college graduate, I am so proud of myself, I had a dream of a college degree and it seemed impossible but I never gave up, no matter the obstacles in front of me. I learned more fromt he courses I took, I learned about perservance and patience, I learned that there is hope in a hopeless situation. And I hope to use this part of my story to inspire others to never give and never stop reaching for their dreams.

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Unplugging from social media

I wanted to make a blog update about how I have stopped using social media and I wanted to use this as a diary and track my progress and hopefully inspire anyone who reads it. As many of you know, I have struggled so much with social media and its effects on my mental health. I used it addictively, I compared myself to people and I began to define myself and take on my online persona as if it was an extension of the real life.  Five days ago, I deactivated my Facebook account after feeling triggered by pretty much everything on Facebook. I had done this before and only managed half a day to a day, I never made much progress. Sometimes I’d not post for a week but I’d still be on the site all day, scrolling or interacting in groups and continuing to be triggered by all the stimuli on my screen. But this time felt different, I have been having a mental health breakdown and something in me snapped and I felt that my sanity was at stake. That night I deactivated the account; my mind was racing so fast that I tossed and turned awake for nearly four hours, this was dire. I knew that social media didn’t cause my anxiety and leaving it wouldn’t cure it but it was a major stressor and it needed to be removed.

The first day or so, I was very anxious, I kept thinking about everything I was missing, I woke up and automatically thought to check my phone for notifications and of course none were there.  I wondered if I had made a mistake, if I was going to log back in, I thought maybe it was a bad idea, I needed mental health support and all my “friends” were on there, I’d miss them. I wondered if they would notice that I was gone. I missed the validation, the attention, the feeling of having something to say and have people listen. I missed the likes and the comments and in thinking about it, I realized how little all of that meant. Reactions and comments have no value in the world, I haven’t achieved anything, it doesn’t get me closer to my goals or to making friends in the here and now.  But yet I lived for it, to the point where it destroyed my mental health.

The more time away from social media I was, the clearer things became, I had insight. I was able to see that I, like everyone else, had created an online persona and I essentially believed my own hype, I was a mental health advocate, I was sensitive, I was altruistic, I lived to help others, it was total bullshit, At the end of the day, it was all about me, how much attention I could receive, painting myself in the best ( and most sympathetic light), it was all about being in the spotlight and I loved it. Is my story genuine? Yes. Are my feelings the truth? Certainly so. But my reasons for sharing them are questionable, even to myself. I got a certain reaction when I share certain things, so I continued, behavior reinforced. If I was depressed, I’d ramp it up, to get the validation I needed to make me feel heard. And Facebook and its algorithms enforce this narcissistic behavior; because that’s what it is narcissism is: obsession with self.  The sadder you are or the angrier you get, the more Facebook show it in your followers newsfeeds, people love controversy. It hurts to write and it makes me sick but if I am to heal and grow as a person and be an advocate, I need to speak the truth, even if that truth is ugly. I am determined to do my part to spread the consequences on mental health from using social media sites, it’s serious. And I find it rather ironic to discuss mental health on a platform that is so detrimental to mental health.

But so far, there have been so positive effects, like I said earlier, I’ve gained insight and clarity as the days pass by. I am more focused and present where I am. When I am at home talking with my family, I never look at my phone and my mind is focused on what they are saying as opposed  the need to constantly check social media hundreds of times a day. I am taking more walks, I am writing and blogging more. I am praying day and night, starting therapy and am sleeping better. I’ve even tried to read before bed, which is something I never did before. I never realized how distracted I was and what an effect that social media had on my moods and how I saw myself. Its only been five days but I feel proud of myself, I take it a day at a time. But I hope to use this experience to help others trapped in social media addiction. There is recovery, it’s hard as hell and it’s lonely at first but it’s worth it when you no longer compare yourself to other’s highlight reels, you no longer have to be something you are not to impress people you’ve never met and you can focus on those around you who are presently in your life. There is hope and hopefully together we’ll beat this. Who’s with me? Unplug and get your life back.

Are you there God? It’s me, David

When you are troubled and you feel alone, attacked from all sides ( even your own mind), you feel isolated, you feel hopeless, everything is crashing down on you at once and you don’t know where to turn. It seems that no one is there, maybe because you pushed them away, maybe you need the space. But for whatever reason , you are alone and you mind is racing and you find yourself again in that dark place where nothing seems right and everyone is against you, your eyes red from lack of sleep, you feel the exhaustion of overthinking, your body is tense. It’s such an empty desolate feeling when you have to shut the whole world off just to breathe.  You’ve been suffocating, carrying the weight of the world and all you want to do into collapse into your bed in your own self-pity. Instead you collapse onto your knees, hands together, eyes closed. You find yourself talking to the one that never abandons you, no matter how bitter you were, no matter how much you turned from him; he was always there. You turn to God because there’s nothing left and in your darkest times is when he’s working the hardest in your life. You pray for strength, for guidance, you pray to forgive yourself and to forgive others; you ask God to bless them and give them everything you’d want in life; protection, love, happiness, success. And suddenly the attacks of your mind slow down, you feel a small sense of ease, your muscle relax and you unclench your teeth. Because I know that through this pain will come salvation and God will never abandon me, I just have to faith that when troubled times arrive soon comes miracles. Amen. 🙏

I am a college graduate

Well, it is now official, I am a college graduate. I may not have been able to have a proper graduation but I am able to hold my diploma in my hands, and it’s an amazing feeling, I worked so hard for this.  I struggled so much over the years and because of issues with my mental and physical health, I spent almost 15 years trying to just get a two-year degree. And given the trauma of my brother’s death in middle school and how difficult high school was, I never imagined in a million years that I would have a college degree. In fact, a few weeks before graduating high school at my alternative school, I talked with a counselor and she asked me what my plans were and I told her I just wanted to get a job somewhere and earn a paycheck. She shook her head and asked about me going to college and I told her that I wasn’t sure about it at the moment, she shrugged her shoulders that was the end of the conversation, like at that moment we both gave up on me, college was out of the question.

I took a year off of school and worked at a Grocery store, bagging groceries. A year later, I started college and took a few classes but I wasn’t ready, I was in bad shape emotionally and physically,  I had to get up several times to use the restroom, I felt like I couldn’t keep up with the other students, I felt stupid and I didn’t understand the lectures so, I quit after a few weeks,  feeling like a total failure.

 

I gave up and found a minimum wage job ( one of many over the years) and worked for about three years, just trying to earn any money I could, my emotional and physical problems got significantly worse and it affected my job performance and I was treated poorly at every job I worked at. Finally, my physical difficulties became so bad, that I could no longer work and I forced to stay at home. During that time, I wanted to learn something so I taught myself Spanish by watching Spanish language television, listening to the radio, and reading my dad’s old books in Spanish.

Eventually, I decided that I should take a Spanish class at my local community class and I signed up, I also signed for an English writing course, I took a test and I was required to take a remedial English course to get me up to speed to a credited English course.  I remember the Spanish class well; it was a beginner’s course and I had already learned most of the language concepts. On the very first day of class, I met my teacher, she was pretty with curly hair and she said she was Cuban. My family is Cuban and I excitedly told her my family was Cuban, she looked unimpressed as if I was trying to brown-nose her. And when she heard me speak Spanish, she told me that I didn’t belong there, I belonged in a more advanced class, I didn’t complain.

When I took the English course, they had us write simple compositions about our favorite vacation or just creative writing, I enjoyed it, I didn’t see myself as a writer or have a passion for it yet. One day the teacher told us we could write about any topic we liked but had to have a 3 to a 4-page minimum. Well, I decided to write about the counterculture of the 1960s, a topic I knew a lot about since I watched every documentary I could on the subject.  A few days before the due date, I hadn’t written anything. I sat on my couch and started writing in a notebook every idea that came to my head, it was page after page. Eventually, I was able to mold that into a paper that spanned 10 pages, I just couldn’t stop writing. I turned it in, a few days later the professor talked me and said the dean was concerned because he thought I had plagiarized it but couldn’t prove it, I said sincerely that I didn’t, I just loved to write. The teacher said “I believe you” and handed me back my paper and like the other class, moved me to a credited college course immediately, it was one of the proudest moments of my life up to that point, I felt really smart. After those classes, I took another semester with two classes, I continued the English writing and Spanish courses, I did quite well, I was proud of myself.  As I was taking this class, my family was planning to move out of state, so I have to stay with my Aunt for a few weeks to finish my courses.

 

I moved to another city and took another year off to just get settled, I found another low paying job that I hated but, in my heart, I wanted to be back in school. After a year, I signed for classes here at the local community classes, I now had a school counselor and a set number of classes I needed to take. I started to branch out, I took a communications class and some other class I can’t remember, I did well in those classes, considering I was also working a job that was stressing me out at the time.  During my last year at this job, I missed a few semesters and just lost interest in school, I think my mental health was really deteriorating at this point. Sadly, my job was affecting my mental health so bad that I had a breakdown, I quit after 3 years and I was so distraught that I didn’t know what to do, I came home upset that I lost a job and I also liked a co-worker but she wasn’t interested, I was a mess. I was at one of the lowest points in my life and feeling hopeless. I was on Facebook and I saw a post from an old friend and they were now working with people with disabilities, I was impressed and I was also angry because I had disabilities and I was treated so poorly in the workplace, I wanted to do something to make a difference. I found a book with college programs, I was outside chain-smoking and I saw a program called “Human services technology developmental disabilities” And immediately I pointed at it and said to myself “I can do that”  I didn’t even hesitate.

A few weeks later, I signed for a few classes and I entered the program. I met with the man who was the chair of the program and he became my school counselor, he was kind and really believed in me ( sadly he no longer is working for the school anymore) He was teaching a lot of the classes I was in and I was excited to be there, I excelled, I loved the curriculum and I got good grades without even reading much, I was just interested in the classes, I wrote papers and loved the discussions we had. I especially loved when I had assignments where I had to interview people in the disabilities field, I got so much out of that. I was just proud that I was doing so well. I  was required to take a counseling course, which was the hardest class of them all, everyone feared this professor, she was tough. She would get upset at me if I wouldn’t follow the format of writing she expected. She would tell me that she didn’t care about the content, I didn’t follow her directions and I could do better. But once I was able to follow her format, she started to really like what I turned in and I was one of the few person’s that got A’s on her hardest papers; both required us to write over 10 pages, it was hard work but I love to write. I ended up getting an A in her class, I just jumped for joy.

 

After that semester, I had some financial troubles and I wasn’t working, my parents were retired and couldn’t help me much with paying for classes. Again, I had to stop classes and after a few months. I applied for a Pell grant, which basically gives low-income students an opportunity to finish school without worrying about finances, they paid my tuition and books, I even got money back at the end of the semester, it was a godsend. So, I was finally able to go back and get closer to getting my degree.

I took a few classes and began an internship program at a large agency in the area, it was a day support center where they had classes and art time for disabled adults. I was working at the time, so it was hard at first to get my hours. I really loved the clients and they loved me and I also got to know the support workers there, we got along well. I, however, did not like my supervisor, I could tell from the moment I walked in that she did not like me. I am not sure what it was about me but she had this disdain, she looked annoyed every time I would ask her a question, she never gave me direction, so I ended not doing much except helping teach the classes and interacting with the students, I felt frustrated because I didn’t know what to do unless someone took the time to show me what they needed. I finished my first round of internship and passed but I wasn’t happy and neither was she, I questioned whether or not I belonged in this field.

As time went on, I continued my classes, I slowly but surely got closer to my degree, but one thing was bothering me, I have a learning disability in math and I had been avoiding it until the very end, I knew it would be difficult. I finally had to take a remedial math course and it was this large computer room ( like you see in a library) with a station with 5 or 6 computers attached. The course was done in class and online, I was not allowed to use a calculator and I got so frustrated, I’d go home and just want to scream, I didn’t get it. After a week, I walked out, totally distraught, and thinking that I could never pass. The next semester, I tried again and passed the first remedial course. Oh, and the course was only for 4 weeks at a time, which didn’t give me the time I needed to learn and that only added to the frustration.

Before I took this next math course, I talked to someone at the disability department about getting accommodations, I qualified and was able to have a student write their notes for me, I was able to have more test time and to take it at the learning center instead of the class, I felt like this could help me pass. I was also feeling like I could pass this next math course because I heard that I could use a calculator, that was my main issue, simple arithmetic was holding me back and I could figure everything out if I just had a calculator. It turned out that I could use a calculator only if I passed the first test.  When I attended my first class, I was so lost and I kept looking at the girl next to me, she was so much farther along than me and I felt so dumb, I’d asked the teacher assistant a question and she’d explain it and I still wouldn’t get it, I’d ask again and could tell she was annoyed. I had it, I was cursing underneath my breath, I angrily threw my stuff into my bag and walked out. I called my mom and told her that I couldn’t do this, I felt like an idiot and I was never going to pass, I felt so bad at that time and hopeless. I talked to my counselor after and she explained to me that the class required no calculators and there was nothing she could do about it.

At the time I had started volunteering at a Christian organization for adults with developmental disabilities and I was telling the woman in charge about the issues I was having and she offered to help, there was also a parent of one of the disabled adults and she would sit down with me and go over the math problems and explain it slowly so I could understand, she was kind.  Also being there had given me the confidence I had lost while I was at the internship, volunteering I felt valued and loved and knew that I was capable of being in this field if I had the right guidance and people who cared.

I ended up having my mom come with me and explain to the counselor the difficulties I was having and how I was at a disadvantage because the trauma of losing my brother really affected my education in high school ( and that was the truth)  I asked if I could waive the math course and she said that usually never happens unless it were extenuating circumstances. She mentioned that the school might offer the option of substituting a class but it would be in science, I was concerned since I was not good at science either and had dropped out of a few of those classes over the years. She said substitution was also rare and I shouldn’t get my hopes up. I walked out feeling somewhat disappointed because this was my last resort and I didn’t get a solid answer but we did request that the class be substituted, I was told that it would take some time for a decision to be made.

 

A few months passed and I heard nothing, I contacted the school several times and didn’t get an answer, I was ready to give up at this point. I finally got an email from my disability counselor and said that they were looking over the decision and I’d know soon, I knew in my heart that it would be denied, I’d never pass this course and get my degree, after all those years of hard work. I was thinking of trying to find another community college to finish up at and see if they could waive this math course, sadly, I was told that it was a state requirement. My last resort was to write a letter to the state board and keep going higher up until I got an answer. One day, I was checking my school email and I saw something from school with the subject “Class substitution ‘  I was nervous and opened the email, it stated that the substitution HAD been approved and they were offering astronomy. I literally screamed for joy and jumped out of my seat. I didn’t know a thing about astronomy but I knew that it was better than math and I had a chance of passing.

 

I quickly signed up and attended class in the fall. I was concerned though that I might not do well but the first class, I enjoyed the lecture and the teacher was really cool. It was both an in-class lecture and online work, that was ok with me. But the best part was yet to come, the professor mentioned that we did have in-class quizzes and exams. When the exams came, he surprised us and said that the exam was online with open notes, everyone was relieved. I ended up passing with flying colors, my heart soared because I knew that I was going to do good in this class. The next exam came and I studied so hard, I made flashcards, I got notes from the professor ( like in the math class), I just focused on that one class. And to my surprise, the next exam was online as well. Most classes never allow exams online so I was ecstatic. It turned out all the work online and I was able to eventually pass.  The last day of class, I was on top of the world, I knew I passed and it was like a huge boulder had been lifted off my shoulders and I could finally rest easy, it was over, I had gotten my degree

After struggling on and off for 15 years and when I saw that I got an A, that was the proudest moment of my life. Me, someone who struggled so much in his life, someone who made to feel he was stupid and not good enough, finally got a college degree, I was a college graduate at last. I never thought this would happen. I never thought it would happen when I was an 18-year-old kid in that class with that counselor, I was just happy to be out of high school. I didn’t think it would happen when I was working low paying jobs, treated like garbage every day, and sick to my stomach. I didn’t think it would happen when I couldn’t solve a simple math problem ( that a child could solve) and I felt so stupid. But it did happen and it could happen to me, I could happen to anyone. If you want something in your life, you have to work hard with every fiber of your being for it, you have to picture it in your mind and never stop until you reach that goal. You can struggle but never ever give up, that is one thing I learned from this whole experience. I am a walking miracle and I hope somebody can read this and be inspired to achieve their dreams just like I did.

 

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Looking at those old photos

Looking at old photos of myself past the age of 14, I have a vacant unemotional stare, smiling seems to be an impossible task, I’m completely broken, a shell of my former self, a lost sheep in a herd of tigers, I gave up on life.

I can’t look at these photos without feeling shards of emotional glass, ripping my heart into a million pieces.

These were my lost years, blurred memories; who was I? What was I feeling?

Hope had evaporated for me and I went wherever the wind took me.

I took so long for me to genuinely smile; to allow myself to be photographed.

Last night I cried, a mixture of sadness and joy, I thought of the many friends I had and how they cared, I thought about how much better I felt these days, I thought about the opportunities I had to help others. I thought of all the reasons I had to smile and that made me cry, healing tears streaming down my cheeks, no shame in that.

It’s been a long road but I can finally say that the hope is slowly coming back, so is the joy. And I can love and be loved. I have no other words to describe it except now I feel I can finally move on. 💜

 

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No one likes me

No one likes me, they say they do but are they really my friends? This is what my mind has been saying daily to me for most of my life, it says that I’m no good, I’m worthy of friendship, eventually, people get sick of me and abandon me. It feels so real despite having friends who support my mental health advocacy, correspond with me, say they care, my mind can never fully trust them an that hurts. My friends don’t hurt me but my anxiety does, it bullies me into thinking that everyone is against me.

I truly think the one who dislikes me the most is myself, in many ways I hate myself, I don’t know why but I just don’t like the person in the mirror and I figure no one else does either. I call it social paranoia and the paranoia HAS cost me friendships many times, no one wants to around someone who needs constant reassurance, puts themselves down or questions who is friends are, I wouldn’t want to know that person either.

I don’t know if I was always like this but it certainly got worse after I was bullied, I couldn’t trust people and I  became hyper-vigilant in order to protect myself, it’s a constant fear of saying the wrong thing or coming across a certain way and then  I’ll be rejected and rejection stings.

I really don’t have a lot of skills at my disposal to combat my anxiety other than my journal, meds, and prayer, sometimes I may relay on friends but again, oftentimes I feel misunderstood so I keep these social paranoid feelings to myself, I shy away from speaking about it out loud for fear it will further drive people away.

It’s very lonely to have to deal with this anxiety every day. it hurts. I have anxiety attacks over social gaffes I may or may have not made and I’m sure others have forgotten them but my anxiety won’t let me forget it. All I know is that I really struggle with this and writing is my therapy, it’s the only way to process this barrage of anxiety. When is it going to go away, when can I finally relax? I even worry about how this entry is going to be perceived ( if anyone even bothers to read it.)  God, anxiety is the worst but at least I’m not alone, I’m never alone.

 

No one likes me

No one likes me, they say they do but are they really my friends? This is what my mind has been saying daily to me for most of my life, it says that I’m no good, I’m worthy of friendship, eventually, people get sick of me and abandon me. It feels so real despite having friends who support my mental health advocacy, correspond with me, say they care, my mind can never fully trust them an that hurts. My friends don’t hurt me but my anxiety does, it bullies me into thinking that everyone is against me.

I truly think the one who dislikes me the most is myself, in many ways I hate myself, I don’t know why but I just don’t like the person in the mirror and I figure no one else does either. I call it social paranoia and the paranoia HAS cost me friendships many times, no one wants to around someone who needs constant reassurance, puts themselves down or questions who is friends are, I wouldn’t want to know that person either.

I don’t know if I was always like this but it certainly got worse after I was bullied, I couldn’t trust people and I  became hyper-vigilant in order to protect myself, it’s a constant fear of saying the wrong thing or coming across a certain way and then  I’ll be rejected and rejection stings.

I really don’t have a lot of skills at my disposal to combat my anxiety other than my journal, meds, and prayer, sometimes I may relay on friends but again, oftentimes I feel misunderstood so I keep these social paranoid feelings to myself, I shy away from speaking about it out loud for fear it will further drive people away.

It’s very lonely to have to deal with this anxiety every day. it hurts. I have anxiety attacks over social gaffes I may or may have not made and I’m sure others have forgotten them but my anxiety won’t let me forget it. All I know is that I really struggle with this and writing is my therapy, it’s the only way to process this barrage of anxiety. When is it going to go away, when can I finally relax? I even worry about how this entry is going to be perceived ( if anyone even bothers to read it.)  God, anxiety is the worst but at least I’m not alone, I’m never alone.

Social media addiction

I am hopelessly addicted to social media, I am on there all day, constantly posting, seeking validation, I live for those likes and comments, I love the rush of my notifications bell going off, it makes me feel connected in a world wherein reality I feel totally isolated ( even before Covid 19). I feel like people understand me online, they judge me less, I can edit myself, I can delete posts, I can create an image of myself that makes me seem cooler and more interesting than I really am. I can live a lie and omit my glaring flaws, that’s what social media is all about

A lot of people knock social media but I actually receive tons of positive support online and it’s such an amazing feeling, I feel like I belong, I run groups, I do live Facebook videos, I am vulnerable, I put myself out there for the world to see and people respond, I have never felt understood and now I do, I should be happy, right? I am but I’m not and therein lies the problem, the joy of feeling connected is short-lived and I log off of social media feeling exhausted and frustrated by the whole thing.

Yes, I get support and I feel connected but I also feel overwhelmed ( even when I get more than enough praise), too many comments, too many messages, too much being in the spotlight, it’s unnerving at times and this constant need to be heard takes everything out of me. Because when the notifications go from a flood to a trickle ( and it always does), I need to make the next post that will get even more likes or comments and I have to respond to everyone to ensure my posts stays in everyone’s feed ( that’s how social media works, you don’t interact with others, you disappear) And to make matter’s worse, the social media algorithm buries our posts so that only a few people can see them and we never see the posts from the friends we care about, so we miss 95% of the movie and only get the end credits. And it makes us feel we are being ignored when in reality social media is toying with our emotions and controlling what posts we see, while our mental health deteriorates as a result,  it becomes an obsession to stay relevant.

And if the amount of likes or comments doesn’t bother me, it’s scrolling endlessly through my newsfeed ( again interacting with others so they will continue to see my posts.) I  see nothing but smiling faces, people with stable relationships, better jobs, more money; taking nice vacations, eating really delicious looking meals, more friends, the list goes on. And of course, after scrolling, I tell myself that it’s a lie, people are only posting their best moments ( a greatest hits album of their life, while mine is the b side) and I’m at home in my pajamas eating microwave spaghetti. People are fake on social media, just like they are in real life, so it shouldn’t be a surprise but it certainly feels real while I’m scrolling. And suddenly I’m comparing myself to my friends on Facebook, I’m not good enough or handsome enough or have enough friends, I am perpetually focused on what I don’t have instead of counting the many blessings I do have.

Lately, I have gotten zero joy out of being on social media, it doesn’t matter how many likes or comments or messages I get, nothing can quell my loneliness or frustration, nothing can satisfy me and I am just numb to the whole experience ( aside from the advocacy work I am doing with other advocates, that gives me joy) I feel a sense of anger and resentment at social media as a whole and it’s no longer healthy, even if I am advocating for mental health, being on social media has become counterproductive and it has hurt my creativity as well, my blog has taken a nosedive since all my energy went toward Facebook and Instagram, it’s a shame, really.

I have been logged out of all social media for two days now and while I feel anxious, I also feel relieved that I no longer have to see highlight reels or worry about likes or comments. My only reason for being on social media at this point is watch videos related to mental health that are a part of advocacy, aside from that I am no longer making posts of my own, I am no longer scrolling, I am taking an extended hiatus from social media, it is the only way to get better and recover from the damaged caused by these addictive platforms.  I can heal, I know I can do it and so can you.

Flood of healing

Memories flood back but I won’t run away from them, I’ll let them rise to the surface, I can manage the heavy rainfalls, even if it leads me to an ocean of tears. I have a boat and an oar, I can weather the storm.

It’s a distance away but I can see the shore, I can see the beam from the lighthouse guide me to land, shine the light on me, lead me to shore and to safety from this treacherous journey. If I keep moving, I know I’ll get there, even if it takes every bit of strength I have left, I’ll get there, believe that. 🚤 🌊

I am now on the Moments of Clarity Youtube Channel

Hello everyone, as many of you know, I am a mental health advocate and I lost my brother to suicide when I was 14. I am now collaborating with Moments of Clarity with Tiffany; a radio show and Youtube channel with content related to mental health, for my part, I am focusing on making Suicide Prevention videos. The channel is growing but I would love your support, please subscribe to their channel, Thank you so much.

 

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