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I felt like writing a story about my life because it felt harder to say it directly. I just want to know if people can resonate with me.

"Still Growing"

My childhood was simple.

The earliest memory I have is from when I was three. I remember looking around my room, completely mesmerized by my toys. It was the first time I could really retain memories and understand what my parents were saying. I think they were at their happiest then—because I felt no fear. Everything was peaceful, yet full of wonder.

I remember how big the world seemed. My ceiling felt so high, like I’d never be able to reach it, not even in my dreams. When I was four, I used to lie on the couch pretending to be asleep, just so my mom would take my picture. I liked making her laugh. I remember cutting my own hair once, and surprisingly, she didn’t get mad—because I’d actually done a good job.

When I was six, school became the best part of my day. I loved dressing up in cute shoes and fancy clothes. Every day felt like a fashion show, and I didn’t care—I loved it. Everyone in my class dressed like that. It was just the norm, and I felt like I belonged. Back then, everyone got along. Everyone was your friend. No one felt lonely.

But when did that change? When did people start pulling away?

So many people I once called friends are strangers now. Why is that? Growing up, I was happy. I never felt stressed—only joy. I felt beautiful. I felt pretty. Even the shows I used to watch seemed full of magic. Now when I look back, I feel sad. Is that a sign I’m getting older? I don’t know. I can’t remember everything anymore. Where did those memories go? Why did they leave me?

I don’t want them to. I still want to feel what I felt back then.

Mid Childhood

Then people started drifting away.

My friends left, one by one. I didn’t understand why. They laughed at me sometimes. Did I say something wrong? Was it how I looked? Maybe that’s when my anxiety started. I used to love attention, but suddenly I couldn’t stand it. Was I the problem?

My best friend stopped hanging out with me. I never got an explanation. I kept asking myself: Was it something I said? Something I did?

And then came the biggest loss of all—my abuela. I had never lost a person before. I couldn’t fully grasp it. It didn’t feel real. I didn’t cry, not at first. But I remember crying myself to sleep one night. That was the first time I ever felt truly vulnerable.

I started wishing I didn’t have to grow up. Because if I stayed young, I wouldn’t have to lose anyone else. I thought maybe if I stayed little, my family would stay together. I didn’t want change. I didn’t want to be separated.

Then COVID hit, and everything changed again. I had no friends, no school, no connection. I felt completely alone. But then we got a dog. She was the sweetest, and for a while, she gave me joy. But the fear of death stayed with me.

That was also the time I started hearing more about romantic and sexual relationships. It felt confusing, overwhelming—like I had been thrown into something I wasn’t ready for.

Late Childhood

I was first introduced to the idea of homosexuality around this time. I started questioning myself. Was I gay? Did I like girls? I became close with a girl in my class—my first best friend in that new environment. We did everything together. I could tell she liked me. Did I like her too? I told myself I did… but I wasn’t sure. Was I just trying to fit in with what I saw online? Was I trying to follow a trend?

She also introduced me to the concept of self-harm. She said it was a way to cope. But I couldn’t believe that—hurting yourself as a way to feel better? It didn’t feel right.

Until something else happened.

One day, a man talked about me—about my body—right in front of me. It was suggestive. Gross. I didn’t know how to react. I felt sick. Disgusted. Scared. I don’t even know what emotion it really was. But I felt violated.

And it didn’t just happen once. It happened multiple times. Each time, I wanted to shrink away and disappear. I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it because the topic was too taboo. I felt stuck, ashamed, terrified. I started to hurt myself. I cried myself to sleep. I isolated myself even more—not because I hated people, but because I hated the way they looked at me.

No, not me—my body.

Early Teens

This is when I felt the most depressed.

The more my body developed, the more comments I got. I was afraid. So I cut my hair. And for the first time in years, I felt safe again. People stopped looking at me "that" way. I felt like I could breathe. But people also started treating me like an outsider. They looked at me weird. I didn’t care at first—but then it started to hurt.

I began questioning my identity more seriously. I liked how I looked when I dressed like a boy. But was it a defense mechanism? Or was it who I really was?

For three years, I didn’t know who I was. Was I a girl? A boy? Something else? I hated being seen as a woman. I still do. It feels like a label forced onto me, one that comes with pain and expectation.

Teen Years

Eventually, I went on my first date. I started growing my hair out again, dressing more femininely. I felt like I was reclaiming something—like I was slowly becoming stronger, safer.

But then the world reminded me how fragile that safety was.

The guy I went out with made comments—sexual ones. Right away. I wanted to disappear. Why is it so important to some men to talk about sex? Why is that the first thing they see in a girl?

Why did it have to be me?

I went home and sat in the shower, crying. I cried because I felt powerless again. I cried because I just wanted to go back—to when life was simple, when I didn’t have to think about things like this.

I cried again when I realized I was growing up.

More was expected of me now. More responsibility. More pain. If this is what growing up means—finding a man, getting married, having children—then maybe I don’t want it. Maybe I just want to be happy.

Does that make me lazy? Or… am I just still growing?

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Christians and mental health #Depression #Anxiety #PTSD #Hope #Relationships #MentalHealth

It’s time to address some truths about Christianity and mental health.

1. Christians can and do struggle with mental illness. It is NOT a sign of secret sin, hidden shortcomings or lack of faith.

2. Many people in the Bible struggled with their mental health.

Hannah who struggled to have a baby.
Elijah was burnt out.
Job lost everything and everyone that he held dear.
David suffered the depths of depression.
Jonah was suicidal. Etc etc

3. No one is immune. Being in the ministry doesn’t make you immune, in fact, statistically speaking mental illness can be more prevalent in Pastors than many other professions.

4. It is NOT wrong to take medication, seek professional help or be hospitalised due to mental illness. It is no different to diabetes, high blood pressure etc.

5. Things are getting better, but we are way to go. My church knows that their Pastor, me, takes medication, has been hospitalised for treatment and still consults doctors to stay healthy.

Reject shame. Don’t let anyone look down on you. You are courageous, you matter and you are loved.

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Toxic relationship

So there was this girl I used to talk to. We had a bit of a wild thing going on sending each other stuff, and yeah, she was into some intense roleplay, asked me to call her messed-up stuff in DMs and all that. We stopped talking for a while, then she suddenly added me again, saying she had problems with her boyfriend. I had a girlfriend at the time, who I really loved, but I ended up talking to this girl again. Eventually, she sent me nudes, and I gave in and did stuff I regret. We started talking dirty again.

Then out of nowhere, my girlfriend blocked me. I had no way to reach her, so I stupidly asked the girl I cheated with to talk to her and ask what happened. She did but also exposed me and sent my girlfriend screenshots. I was completely screwed.

I begged my girlfriend not to leave me, told her I loved her and that it was a mistake. She said she’d give me another chance if I hurt myself and showed proof. Dumb as I was, I did it. I cut myself and when I did she told me th cut is not deep enough so I made another one and I made it deep and it hurt so bad til I throw up after I done them I filmed it, and even joined some volunteer work she asked for to “fix my mindset” or something. She agreed to give me a second chance.

But honestly, it wasn’t a real second chance. She ghosted me, treated me badly, and made me feel like garbage. Then one day, she pretended she hooked up with some guy in a car and she did some unholy stuff with him and he grab her phone and called ma and told me about it in detail in a phone call turned out it was her friend, but I didn’t know that at the time. I broke down mentally and I cried for days and my body was shaking.

Later, I told her, “Okay, we’re even now, can we try for real?” She agreed. I was loyal, did everything she asked, and still, she treated me cold. Then she told me to cut myself again to prove my love. And I actually did it again. She got a bit nicer, and I thought things were finally getting better. But when I asked her out again she said ok ask me out with a 💌 or something and I agreed but in the next day she straight-up changed her mind and said no.

I kept trying. I sent friends to talk to her, tried again and again, and every time she’d say she’d give me another chance, but never actually meant it. Eventually, she told me she never loved me. That hit me hard, but I said okay, I’ll let go. I was still heartbroken, but I stopped reaching out.

A month later, she unblocks me saying she’s been thinking about me. I thought maybe she wanted to make things right—but nope. She blocked me again after 2 days. I had panic attacks and tried one last time to reach out, but she ignored me and blocked me again.

She added me again as she said to apologize and she actually apologized about treating me bad and I accept her apology and we talked for some days like two days then I asked her are you here to just apologize or do you wanna fix the things up and she said I don't really know so I gived her some time to think about it and we were talking normal for like a day then she turned cold and dry again so this time I tried to joke around but she was respond with dry message until she start saying nope to all the messages I sent to her and that's annoy me so I asked her to stop cuz this make me more anxious then she said haha then blocked me and literally the same loop start again. I made account by my name to try to talk to her, I bought new SIMs to message her but she made me feel worthless cuz everytime I try to reach out she was blocking me without even opening the message so I give up again and let her go.

In the last time She came back again asking me, “Who’s Joseph?” some guy she thought I was pretending to be or Friend of mine. I was done at that point and told her to leave me alone. But then she said she just wanted to ask me a few things. I didn’t care anymore. But she kept chatting and we ended up having a normal conversation for like 3 days. I asked her why she even came back—was it to fix things, be friends, or what? She said, “We’ve been done for ages, bro.”

That was it. I told her I’d remove her to heal and move on, since clearly she wasn’t here for the same reason. The next day, I saw she blocked me—even though I had already removed her and told her I wouldn’t chase her again.

Like... why block me again when I already said goodbye? I just wanted some closure. Some explanation. But I guess I’ll never get that.

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Hope, to me, means...

Hope is a complex and multifaceted concept—experienced differently and on varying levels by each of us, depending on our unique circumstances. How we define, perceive, and understand hope shapes how it shows up (or doesn’t) in our lives, both individually and collectively.

What does hope mean to you?
What kind of relationship do you have with the concept of hope?
Can you describe a moment in your life when you felt hopeful?

#MightyMinute #CheckInWithMe #ChronicPain #ChronicIllness #Disability #RareDisease #MentalHealth #Anxiety #Autism #Parenting #PTSD #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #BipolarDisorder #ObsessiveCompulsiveDisorder #EatingDisorders #Depression #Fibromyalgia #Lupus #MultipleSclerosis #Migraine #Spoonie

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Joel 2:25 Another Devotional Reading I wrote a few years ago

Verse: “Then I will compensate you for the years That the swarming locust has eaten, The creeping locust, the stripping locust, and the gnawing locust— My great army which I sent among you.

Reading: We may experience increasing infirmity with fragility of our chronic medical conditions. This is a result of our affliction that since developed over the years. Different symptoms of our condition will be like “swarms” of “locusts” eating at us. These symptoms attempt to destroy the essence of our lives at its very core. We will find that they have “chewed”, “cut”, and “consumed” us until there is nothing left of us.

These symptoms that irritate us, “hop” and “crawl” about. They can “strip” everything in the complete destruction, obliteration, and annihilation. This is the loss of the functionally that we had before the development of our condition. Despite this, we can experience the fulfillment of the promise that the Lord will restore our joy in Him. The Lord assures us this even after years that our chronic condition has “eaten” our abilities. We must maintain our intimate relationship with Him. This is through the study and meditation of His Word. Only then will we find His reassurance.

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I feel bad

Pauley wanted to go to the farmers market this weekend but I just wanted to sleep. I got my food stamps today and there's a special deal at the farmers market for food stamps. You give $10 of FS and they double it to $20 to spend on fruit and veggies. They have weird hours. But they're open on Thursday so I'm hoping to be able to go. Michigan blueberries and strawberries are just so yummy.

We're gonna place an order for groceries today. Just the essentials. I'm gonna stock up on chicken. We haven't had salmon in a while.

There's a few things I need to get from Amazon. FS should cover it. Like I want to get a bottle of Kikkoman unagi sushi sauce. It's ridonkulously delicious. I've got microwaveable bowls of rice but I need sauce.

The first time I ever had onion jam was at Eastern market. I instantly fell in love. It was so delicious. I want to make shortbread cookies with onion jam. Unfortunately Pauley doesn't like onions. I haven't made anything with onions since early last year. I'm craving a blooming onion.

#Relationships

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