Ana: A Sketch Essay

*Trigger Warning*

*THIS ESSAY CONTAINS SENSTIVE CONTENT AND EXPLICIT DETAILS OF EATING DISORDERS, SEXUAL ABUSE REFERENCES – READ WITH CAUTION*

Ana: A Sketch Essay

She is present and she is absent. She is cold and unforgiving. She is bold, and unwanted. She is thoughtless, careless and the saddest creature you will ever encounter. She is the mistress of manipulation. She is inside my head.

Think of a tangled mess of bare branches that are attached to an aging, creaking, once flourishing- now spiky Red Wood tree carcass. Nails on a chalkboard, her bones creak and break with every step she takes. Skin as white as snow, eyes black as holes with tear ducts streaming a nile of endless sorrow. Her hair is long, black and stringing with grease. A grotesque little thing she is. Her smile sends shivers down spines – reaching earlobe to earlobe and curling at her gums, exposing yellow pointed teeth and a slight empty laugh -Ana’s smile is frightening enough to make anyone run. Her official name is Anorexia, though I personally know her as Ana. She does not appear this way physically to the world, and is constantly attempting to dismantle my confidence into fragmented pieces.

Ana reminds me of the pretty girl who I used to walk by in the hallways of my highschool. That outwardly looks like she had absolutely everything at her perfectly polished fingertips. This girl had eyes that were as bright blue as a California spring day, that were always overcast due to the pain I saw herself putting through. That same girl walked through the doors of one of my group therapy treatments when I was a sophomore in high school, hand in hand with her laxative addiction. She was a perfect abstraction of outwardly false confidence, but still one of the most striking girls I have ever seen. It does take one to know one. Some people kill for beauty, even if it means themselves.

Ana and I have known each other for quite some time, for ongoing ten years. I first met Ana, diagnostically, when I was fifteen, in my personally infamous year of 2012, though I now have presumptions that she and I had been acquainted for some years before that. I met her on a first name basis in a tiny doctors office – a day that is forever in my mind as a core memory. Of course, Ana did not reveal the horror of her true identity to me all at once. It was only after she was identified, named and defined as a negative narrative that I now live with for the rest of my life, that she revealed how ugly she can get.

I wondered as I got older where Ana came from. Did she come from the inhumanly disproportionate, plastic Barbies my mother used to get for me? I had always secretly wished as a little girl to grow up to be as beautiful as those late 90’s Mattel manufactured Barbie dolls. Was it the Victoria Secret catalogs that would come in my family’s mail? Could it have been watching my mother, going through the blood, sweat and pain of the 2000’s toxic diet culture trends? Thinking to myself whenever she broke out in a hungry induced fit of anger, that I would never want to end up in her condition and having to go through the same thing.

I had grown up with pretty things all around me. Princess this and pink that during childhood. Now almost grown up, I have developed a love for fashion, dresses and fragrances. I am considered to be a girly girl, and do take care of myself routinely. One of my greatest fears is that I am as ugly as Ana. How can I not be? I heard the saying “what is psychological is also physiological” from an old psych teacher once and for a longtime, I had applied it to be the logic behind my insecurities. Anorexia (Ana) is a life-long diagnosis with no cure and no medications to cleanse her from the person she inhabits. Only treatments, programs, the threat of being fed through a tube, and constant care repetitions. Having Ana in my mind feels like a minefield inside of my own head – being triggered to the front of my consciousness at the drop of the right pin.

My entire life I have had my parents and loved ones comment on what a pretty and petite thing I am – though it doesn’t penetrate Ana’s smoke screen around my self-confidence. I was even a child model and actor for quite some time, shouldn’t that tell me something? For a disorder that is rumored to be motivated by fat-phobia and vanity, Ana is quite in fact a gruesome thing to the host she resides in. She is a personalized deadly energy for said individual, if fed enough attention. She has no remorse and will relentlessly attempt to anchor me, or anyone she inhabits in her many demonistic forms down, if given even the slightest amount of time. I constantly find myself worrying: Do I look like this Ana on the outside?

Having Anorexia does not mean that I am fearful of becoming overweight (all the time) but it does mean that there are more days than I would like to admit where I avoid my own reflection in the funhouse mirrors that seem to follow me everywhere I go. Body Dysmorphic Disorder comes as a buy one get one free with having an ED. Just the other day while exercising we were asked to place our feet hip distance apart. My instructor came by and corrected me – pulling my feet from 7 inches to about an inch and a half apart and said “Julia, your hips are not that big”. I felt embarrassed knowing that was a body dysmorphic disorder move, at its finest.

The amount of times I have put makeup on and heard Ana’s taunting voice in the back of my head is tragically sad:

“You think that concealer can cover those fine lines?”

“Is that a double chin I see forming?”

“You’re the ugliest thing I have ever seen”

“Give up Julia, you’re just not good at this pretty girl shit”

I then cap my Chanel lipstick and take a deep breath as I take a step away from the mirror and feel warmth flush over my face as tears swell into my eyes. I just want to feel pretty. I wish I could just like myself at this moment, but even though I don’t – I go back to applying my makeup to the taunting tune of Ana’s nasty and untrue comments.

I hate to admit that Ana knows me very well, but not all of me. She knows nothing of my true self. A happy, ambitious and loving individual who is confidently excited for everyday I get to live. I am the friend who always has a smile on her face, rings any environment I am in with laughter and will always go out of my way to help those who I love and need it. Ana only knows my vulnerabilities, my triggers, destructive coping mechanisms and what presses my anger. I hate to say that on the days where I see her lurking in my shadow – there is a battle of self conflict between myself and Ana.

She tries to remind me that she was trying to save me when we first met – I was diagnosed with Anorexia when I was also unknowingly being molested, in that infamous year of 2012, at just fifteen years of age. Ana came to my as demon disguised angel who planted the toxic and permanent seed in my head:

“Starve yourself till you are so small, no one will be able to touch you, see you, he won’t be able to touch you anymore – you’ll be invisible”

Today I am twenty-five and Ana is still a chip on my shoulder, a pain in my ass and an unfortunate part of me. As I have grown older, I have learned to treat myself better. Exercise, eat well, practice mindfulness. Ana’s kryptonite is positivity and self love – light. It is me versus Ana on the days where she comes crashing into my psyche, attempting to poison and pick apart everything I have done to build myself into an independent person away from the engraved attachment she and I have.

I tell you, Dear reader, of the horror that is having Anorexia to attempt breaking the stigma that Eating Disorders are a form of fatphobia – and remind society – eating disorders do in fact exist. There are many examples in my life where I have gotten unwanted comments on my body that I know come from these assumptions, somewhere.

“Her waist is as big as my thigh”

“Aren’t you just the teenisest, tiniest person I have ever seen?”

“You don’t need to workout, you’re so skinny already!”

“Yea, all ten pounds of her couldn’t help me”

My eating disorder was manifested from a series of traumatic events that started from an extremely young age and that was born during one of the hardest times of my life. In no way do I look at other people who are bigger than me and think to skip a meal so I won’t end up looking like them. I don’t keep certain foods out of my diet to look like anybody else – and certainly do not choose to be mentally berated inside my own head, just to keep a slim waistline.

There are some days where I feel as small as Thumblina. The unprecedented commentary from other women just feeds into Ana’s darkness in ways that I have yet to figure out. And that is what I intended to do, confront Ana time and time again until I can look in mirrors without seeing a false reflection. I want to enjoy a treat and not rip myself apart from eating it later, I don’t want to skip meals because of a bad day or stressful situation. Eventually I want to bring awareness to the Eating Disorder community and society: that instead of treatments and therapy, consisting of increased calories and limited physical activity – that we need to learn how to be confident and love ourselves. We need to know how to ease the clench around our throats in order to speak to ourselves nicer inside our own heads and most importantly, find healthy coping mechanisms when things get tough.

At the end of the day I am strong enough to know that this is my life, not Ana’s. And though living with her some days feel as though I am as haunting looking as she is, I soak up every moment I get where she is not present inside of the day or thoughts. I take advantage of these moments by writing mantras to myself, finding new things to experiment with in fashion that are both comfortable and to my liking. I shake off the comments from others because I know they have no idea who I truly am, where I have been and what I live with. With everything that I have been through, I know one day I’ll be able to live in health and clarity with myself – and even smile at my own reflection. Later to become an active voice, guiding those who relate to my story to light and love in the ED community.

Ana is a ghastly creature, but that doesn’t mean I am or have to be either. Exuding kindness and graciousness in all areas of my life is what keeps me going. As well as knowing that I too will tell my story and have it be widely known as a learning lesson: We truly do not see ourselves as others think we do. And to always, speak to yourself as kind as you would to someone you love.

~~~

Sprouting: A Reflection By Julia Katherine

Dear reader,

2021 is now a closed chapter in all of our books. I wanted to share with you some of my reflections and most integral experiences last year. 2021 was filled with incredible achievements, flourishing with bright and vivacious days. I do not know if the memories of my friend’s smile were shining brighter than the summer sun, or if I just remember it that way.

Of course, not every day was so great. 2021 introduced me to a new side of my anxiety I had never encountered. I started the beginning of the year by losing my beloved first pet and went through phases of crippling overthinking. I reached peaks of stress from battling the over-achiever that was born in that year. I watched walls that I had spent so much time and pain building up disintegrate, as I transformed them (and myself) into new, healthy boundaries and habits. I opened myself and my mind to small and big things in life – these days, even I look back in awe.

The biggest difference I see in myself now is instead of numbing those bad days away- I confront them and sent them straight to a place in my brain I like to call ‘processing’ – a mental note to self to learn from my mistakes. I also don’t make habits or patterns that are harmful for me anymore – though there have been some days where wine doesn’t taste as bitter. I like this little part of me that takes tabs on behavioral patterns and choices not to repeat again.

Take it from me reader, it is not expected of you to change into an entirely new person overnight. I tend to also comfort my anxiety by reminding myself, Rome was not built in a day, though a wise friend told me that it only takes that long to burn it all down.

At the beginning of the 2021, I was working as a Starbucks barista (again) and had just applied for Arizona State Universities online B.S program. I was contemplating going back to the local community college in my area, but my boss at the time (a wonderful lady) gave me a pep talk to take the chance with applying to the Starbucks ASU program. After the application process, I anxiously awaited the answer of whether or not I got into ASU and put my head into a spin. My GPA plummeted when I was abusing substances and I saw little to almost no light for my educational dreams. Though I didn’t get accepted initially – I was put into ASU’s pathway program. This was a program that included taking courses for credit but I had to maintain at least a C average or better GPA. And I learned fast, grew faster.

I created a completely healthy, disciplined and dedicated routine for myself when it came to studying and turning in assignments. I would wake up before the sun came up on my days off and pound out work at my desk – some days were as long as 8-10 hours. I want(ed) not to only succeed – but to soar. Avenge myself in a way, that would put as far of a gap in between my old self as I could. And that’s exactly what I did. The scores started to rack in at 100% and I became addicted to my own success. There was something about surprising myself with the level of commitment that drew me in further, made me more curious – and motivated me to always give my best if not more.

This is where I believe my anxiety and the long road of learning not to be so hard on myself was born. Immediately I was overcome with self-induced pressure, I felt as though every assignment I turned in was an art piece made of glass. One wrong move and all my hard work could shatter away. My anxiety would conjure fears, like my professor dropping me from a class just for missing a piece of information. I know that’s pretty dramatic to say, but when has anxiety ever been known to be rational? After turning in big projects my mind would race as I would try to fall asleep some nights:

“Shit…did I use the right headers? Should I have triple checked that assignment? What if I fail all over again…”

Between this, interning and working I had my hands full. Deadlines, Zoom meetings, intern interview assignments, getting up at 3 AM to get up for an eight hour shift – I put in work during 2021 to say the least. Which naturally led to the days where the pressures of it all simmer over and come out emotionally. There were 7AM crying fits, crippled by the fear of failure, because I had seen it once before. If you dear reader have also expressed stress attacks due to high expectations for yourself, even as early as when you first open your eyes to the pounding repeated sound of your alarm – you are not alone.

Stress comes in nasty forms for each individual. Whether it be under or over eating, using any sort of substances, nail biting, skin picking, trouble sleeping or being mentally paralyzed by the rapid thoughts reminding you of all you have to do or improve on. Stress can do things like poison the mind in thinking that the people you love do not love you back and that all your hard work is for nothing.

What I have learned is: Stress attacks happen and there’s nothing we can do to prevent them. What we can do is aid ourselves, learn from it and repeat. How we pick ourselves up and continue on afterwards is what matters. I found in 2021 that truly taking one thing at a time is a helpful tool. Don’t let the amount of times you have fallen or life has held you down be the reason why you do not ever get back up.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results – then laying in bed and letting anxiety consume you while expecting it all to go away tomorrow- is a contestant of insanity. There is a difference between visiting our comfort zones versus being consumed by them. This is a topic I visited in my writing last year as well. I knew that I had to get up every I felt the weight of all my tasks was pushing down on me. There was no other option but for me to keep going. This mentality worked swiftly and rewardingly for myself.

The happy ending to my ASU story is I received my acceptance letter from my first choice program, on my twenty-fifth birthday. I raised my GPA to a semester 4.0 and calculated 3.71 and still have that today as we enter Spring 2022.

During 2021 I tested boundaries and limits I had once falsely assigned. I gathered myself together by creating a foundation for myself of hard work and consistency. Slowly but surely new patterns and parts of myself emerged that have taken many, including myself, by a positive surprise. I started becoming aware of not only what I was thinking but also saying. I finally wasn’t scared to get to know myself.

For me, that goes very deep. Due to the work in progress with my traumatic past – I didn’t want to know myself or let anyone else get the chance too, for a long time. One of the many discouraging feelings that carries into one’s adulthood when they have been sexually exploited as a child, is that you’re a fifthly person. That since I was used in such a malicious and disgusting manner, for the pleasure of a monster, that must mean I am one too, right?

WRONG.

Once I started detaching from that decade old mentality this…beautiful person started to make an appearance in around spring of 2021. I blossomed, with the trees and roses all around me. My smile grew more genuine as the sun rays came out on warm California days. My self confidence started to immerge once again. I now have the dream support team that includes a group of young women who are superheroes, a loving family and my incredible Ian. All of these people, individually, are why I believe Earth side angels exist.

Dear reader, I am going to end on a happy note because I am not a writer who accepts sad endings. If any of my words strike your heart and churn in your thoughts then let that transpire into action. The strength of human resilience is innately inside us all. It is most commonly said not to let other people dictate your life for you, or hold you back. What I think needs to be said more, don’t let YOURSELF hold you back.

I’m off to work on a few other projects. And I cannot wait for my first novel debut. 2022 is my year, and yours too.

Love and kindness,

Julia

~~~

Addictive Behavior Observations and Admissions: An Article of Empathy by Julia Katherine

As the seasons have been changing, I have officially decided that I will be one of those people who is in an almost constant state of metamorphosis. This mindset has made the swift changing social conditions of the world easier to accept and adapt; and easier for me to accept myself, without addiction. I broke walls, false morals and repeated cycles that I had made during those freezing years of my life. After some time in my head, I have finally been able to put together a few of my thoughts about addiction and how I see it in different forms in my life.

A LOT about me has changed. My room, my clothing, my routines, my work and school ethic, my friends, my relationship with my family and the people who care about me. I’m also able to keep a stable and healthy relationship that has recently just reached its one year mark. Ian, if you’re reading this now and any time in the future, I love you. You’ve been more than my rock since I met you a couple years ago. How far we’ve come individually as well as together, is the most beautiful thing I have had the blessing (though I am in no way religious- you are the closest thing to an angel I have ever seen) to call mine, in a long, long time. I can’t wait for our tomorrows.

I recently told Ian about my boundary with relationships and my writing. That since we have now been dating for a year, and if he was okay with it (he was absolutely thrilled and spun me around in excitement) to be featured on my website and written into my pieces.

Ian is one of the reasons why keeping my priorities in life together has been more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. I used to think that sustainable relationships weren’t obtainable- until I accepted change. He has expressed to me that we wouldn’t be together if I was still using, and I don’t blame him. I don’t blame anyone for leaving while I was using. However, those individuals were not meant for me in my current evolving prime.

To those who are reading this, and are in a time in your life where you continuously keep hearing people tell you to get your shit together- I promise you two things. One: when you do start to take the steps to pull yourself together- life is better than any high or low you’re currently chasing. Two: If you’re hearing what’s left of your conscience is trying to tell you that you need to change- it’s time to actually do something about it and stop numbing it. Three: The emotional, spiritual and overall humane experience of regaining one’s self after numbing with substances or destructive comfort zones is astronomical. I can tell you this from personal experience.

I have been advised in therapy many, many times that in order for one to keep healthy relationships, you must have a healthy relationship with yourself. Your life is as good of quality as you put into it. This includes how you treat yourself, the quality of the people around you and how they take care of themselves and their lives. I am no longer friends or in contact with anyone who I used with. Though I have gained a gallant amount of positive company back into my life. (Thank you to my lovely coworker who is also an artist- who asked me when my next piece was- you are a part of the positivity I’ve gained in this new phase of my life.)

One of the scary things about drugs is how it silently takes over the user. This also applies to people in our lives that we may want but in no way need.

I remember when I first started “doing” cocaine, and telling myself as I fell asleep at night that I needn’t succumb to the consequences that cocaine could bring. I also remember meeting young people who have similar traumatic backgrounds to mine, witnessing them fall under the curse of addiction and promising myself that will never be me. However, it took over so quickly, so silently- I didn’t remember ever having boundaries like that until after I got sober. And want became need, when I discovered how easily the deadly white powder numbed the violent flashbacks of my kidnapped youth.

Another ‘addiction’ that I have observed is: the influence that we unconsciously absorb into our lives from the people closest around us. There are many ways to interpret this of course. A common example used in my psych classes was: Having trouble letting go of that childhood best friend who isn’t going off to college? But is guilting you for going off to University. Equallying into either a tough choice made by the friend who has his academic career on the horizon or choosing to stay in his comfort zone. Another more common example; have you ever known that toxic couple who keeps anchoring one another down, yet neither one leaves? Personally, I have experienced this. However, I dumped my unlawful treatment after a little over two years. I have also seen people from my past turn down amazing opportunities due to such menial things like the printer paper weighted strength of a promising forever friend from someone they went to high school with.

My point of these observed examples over the years is; the addiction of not being alone seems better than to risk the free fall feeling and breaking out of something bad in one’s life. I have seen people turn down even better opportunities because they let their own destructive behaviors get in the way of starting anew. It wasn’t until I started questioning behavioral patterns and not just addiction based ones that I started to grasp a better understanding on how to break and prevent toxic cycles.

Behavioral psychology was one of my favorite sub-branches of psychology to listen to in lecture as well as read about both for school, as well as personal knowledge purposes. Behavioral psychology studies human behavior from infancy to elder years in behaviors, patterns, cycles- that make us, us (in very simple terms). The subject categorizes expected or “normal” behavioral patterns for each stage of life and the milestones or downsides and the reactions that come with them. For almost every life milestone, there is a psychological explanation for the reaction and behavior following said event. Behavioral psychology also allows us to explore the reasons as to why we make choices beyond what is considered the ‘norm’ (in psych- the word ‘normal’ is looked down upon- but still used)

In life, anything can become an addiction. Usually when one hears the term addiction, the first thought usually is substance addiction. However, this demon comes in many forms. Addiction can be to video games, to lying, to certain people or persons, to projecting a false persona. Addiction can be food, pills, working out, gambling, sex, cars, cocaine, heroin, working- the limits for addiction are unfortunately- almost limitless.

A common phenomenon that I caught onto in my hometown, besides drugs and toxic relationships, is the addiction to image and social status. Imagery in the bay area is important to many and essential for most. Social status is also as imperative as physical health. In some cases, physical appearance takes precedence over maintaining a healthy well being. Girls and guys will hang on to the most toxic people in their lives romantically just so they won’t be alone. Having a circle of friends to be able to show off on Instagram or strut downtown- is a social up-play move. God forbid in the bay area you don’t have anyone to keep you distracted from what you actually need to be addressing to progress in life. I make that remark thinking of myself as well. I tend to try not to think about where my life would be now, if I had not wasted so much time on people who ended up never being good for me. You’ll see a pair of Nike air force 1’s on the feet of one in five girls from the ages of 16-26. Adidas graphics and unconsciously rapper inspired clothing for the males. Louis Vuitton logos glistening in the sun’s reflection. Perfected middle parts and the newest mom jeans. Winged linger and graphic logo’d snapbacks. One cannot deny the bay area has style- that’s for sure. With so many people putting in so much effort to what they look like in the East Bay, many have forgotten to work on what is really important- the development of self. I truly wonder how many people I used to associate myself with can honestly say that they are no longer producing the same patterns of destructive behavior- addictive behavior, that they were during the duration of our relations.

That saying about your comfort zone hurting you, is true. We as humans are not meant to be stagnant creatures, though we can adapt to be one. What I mean by this is; there comes a point in repeated behaviors where we lose ourselves. We lose our inner voice that tells us when we should stop hurting ourselves and that we deserve better. I am aware that what I am stating also comes with many factors, which include those outside inflictions that we cannot control. But what we can control is our sense of moderation. In Philosophy, one of the founding fathers of the subject, Aristotle once said: “Moderation in everything, including moderation”. So, again, for those that are stuck in a rut of any sort or find themselves trapped in repeated behaviors- trying adding a different action or behavioral choice into your mix to debunk what is dragging you down. If this means having to step away from the world, socially, then by all means do what is necessary to get yourself out of your addictive behavioral choices. Just don’t forget to communicate with the people you love, that you’re detaching for a while.

I have lost friends, many of them in fact, to past behavioral patterns and addictions of my own. I was trying to make it look like I was completely functional and succeeding. I was the girl who spent hours wasting her life away with sleepless, strung out nights- wrongly rationalizing that what I was doing was productive at the time. When you are under the spell of a drug’s deadly addiction; the only sense of accomplishment you have is when you score. The addiction was cocaine, the behavioral cycles and patterns were: lying, manipulating, greed. I don’t blame the people who left for never wanting to come back. I was quite the flash fire flame when I was indulging in the wrong side of life’s vices. Even now, I have left behind my bad habits; the bad habits of others that are not societally as imperative as drug addiction came into beaming light of observation and curiosity to me.

To the girl that’s been with that partner for way too long- who is clearly NOT good for you- why do you stay? I see you look away when happy couples walk by.

If that partner were heroin, would you stay with him until the end?

To the girl who keeps chasing disguised ogres and life-sucking vampires when you could clearly have prince charming- do you want to keep practicing your behavior? Or, will you actually tell yourself that you deserve better than what you are familiar with and know how to temporarily control? To the girl who lets her past control her silently in the present day, why don’t you let those private tears flow? What is so physically painful about accepting the pain of yesterday and embracing the opportunities of healing and life tomorrow? These are all questions I have asked myself for years based on my life and the people who I have known.

Why do we choose to suffer subconsciously when all we need is to be able to stand/speak up for ourselves? All it takes is one pebble to be thrown and a cascade of ripples will erupt. I feel as though people need to be reminded just a little bit more: That little thing you did yesterday to change yourself for the better is an amazing first step to all the good you want to see for yourself. And, that you deserve.

I ask this last question knowing that it is easier said than done.

The hardest time I have ever had to speak up was when I had to tell my father that I was being wrongly sexually infiltrated and used when I was a young, young minor.

However, it has been since that day- that I had made a promise with myself, that I would never again let myself suffocate underneath anyone again. No outside source would be able to cause me pain again. Though I never expected that I would be inflicting destruction onto myself when I started using and this is something that weighs on my mind deeply. However, it’s processing and on its way to healing.

Drugs are different from people.

For some people, it is people that kill them as softly and silently as any substance would. And for the rest, it is the substance that is the latter.

This is exactly my point: people become addicted to other people. And the behavior that comes along with the addiction itself, weighs just as much as a destructive addiction than the person itself.

I’ve experienced this first hand. My second serious relationship, I was with someone who suffocated the developing young lady I was on the road to be- with destructive and manipulative treatment and behaviors. That seeped into my subconscious making me think: So, because he treated me like this, I can treat other people like this. Especially, because of how much pain I’m in.

I feel as though so many people carry this mindset. Dishing out pain to the undeserving, residually leftover from the painful past relation. I’ve endured unintended emotional pain from people I used to call my best friends. I have seen the most beautiful and intelligent women break down over the most pitiful example for a boy. Myself included. I think one of the worst addictions of life can be the addiction from a made up expectation or version of a person, besides substances. This makes me think of the times my friends would dream of the sober me I am today. And while I was one of the lucky ones to make it out of the grasp of addiction, I was recently told by a close friend of mine that: “there are some people who are too far gone, Julz. Some people are still there but they haven’t been for a long time.”

I’ll start my conclusion with a confession. I still struggle with addiction. I’m currently working on kicking the vaping habit and want to eventually reduce my caffeine intake. The fact I’ve even conjured those thoughts on my own, reassures myself that I am growing, once again. Everyday I used to run away and numb so many parts of my past and unknowingly then, so many parts of my beautiful self that I have gotten to know now more and more every day.

Readers; if you are depressed, if you are stuck, if you are fighting addiction, if you are somewhere lost in this crazy world: please take my words and let them linger. I’ll reassure you that in life- we don’t have to know the answers of our futures right away. Just having a thought of “what if” and “I want this instead of what I’m currently enduring” – is a sign that positive change is on the way.

Keep going.

Love,

Julia Katherine