Personal Stories

Driving back to my new dorm I had to pull over on the side of the road.

I threw up the food that my mom had made and that I had put inside of the stomach that she had made me hate.

All of my guilt had been building up like bile.

I try to put the miles to use and to be my own human being but I feel like I’m letting my younger self down.

She wouldn’t like how I feel about so many of the things in my life that are out of my control.

Like the way that I look when I sit, how others perceive me as I pass, or even worse, once they actually know me. Will they see me how I see me? 

As a shell of a person, feeling so much self hatred that it’s starting to affect my relationships.

But I don’t want it to. I don’t want ME to mess this up.

Because I deserve to feel okay for growing up and moving away.

I have this ever growing desire to just be. Just be happy. Just be open. Just be positive. 

Emotions are something I struggle with a bit. I don’t want to be upset and I don’t want to show that something may be wrong. I feel weak or that no one understands/cares about what is going on so I just try to smile. 

I honestly am a happy person. There is no denying that I am full of joy, but that’s all I want to be. I don’t want to show my other sides. I don’t want to show my frustration with certain obstacles, my hurt feelings when my friend does something painful, and I don’t want to seem like I can’t handle myself.

However, I’m learning that it’s not something to hide or be ashamed of. Everyone has emotions. I can’t try to be perfect by having no emotions but the good ones. I think this page has helped me realize that. It’s better to be open and let my feelings out then box it in until I explode. 

There's a certain feeling that arises every so often for me, and it leaves me feeling like I'm not enough. It isn't an existential crisis that will derail my future, but a feeling that makes me feel small and helpless. I spend my time watching movies that make me feel this way and I don't really know why. It seems as though I long for the feeling even though it isn't a good one. And I think I'm beginning to realize that it isn't something to hide from, but an inspiration for myself; a goal that I can set for myself even if I don't reach it. There is so much that I want to do in this world, and yet at the same time I feel like I'm not doing enough. I may never feel as though I am doing a good enough job at setting myself up for success, when in reality I am doing all I can. This feeling is what I call my Imposter Syndrome, not anyone else's, but mine. Someday I'll get to where I want to be, even if it isn't what I have in mind now, I know that I will find success somewhere. 

-Owen Castle 10/23/2022

I suppose I should start with a quick introduction. I am Carter Ostroske, a freshman at Arizona State University studying sports journalism. Now that you know who I am, let’s do this. I first grappled with depression at age 14 stemming from an identity crisis: I loved soccer and basketball but I wasn’t good enough to play for my high school’s team in either sport, and the majority of what few friends I had were athletes at the school. I had interests in baseball and hockey as a fan, but very few of my classmates shared them. I quickly came to feel like an outsider, someone who didn’t belong at my very own school. For a young kid trying to figure out who he was going to be, that was a psyche-crushing blow. I started thinking that I was just wasting what others around me had to offer: the money of my parents, the time of my teachers, the energy of my friends. Eventually, wanting to ease the burden on those around me, I tried to kill myself. It didn’t work, of course not, because nothing I did at that time worked. I had no choice but to pick up the pieces and continue forward, but it was a long, slow process. Eventually, I joined my school’s track team, I made a lot of new friends through that, and I felt like a human being again. But that still didn’t address my purpose, which I eventually found in using my newfound platform to commit to ensuring that everyone I crossed paths with felt like I cared about them. Eventually, treating every interaction as if a fellow human being’s feelings are on the line became second nature for me. I never want anyone to have to go through what I went through; feeling as though the lives of those around them would be somehow improved if they were gone. Simply making someone feel seen and cared about can be enough to give them hope that they can make their way in the world. And because I’m a sports journalism major, I suppose I’ll end with this note for anyone out there who is struggling with suicidal thoughts: foul off pitches. Stay alive. Eventually you’ll get one to hit, and you’ll knock it out of the park. And everybody will be cheering for you as you round the bases in triumph.

- Carter Ostroske (@carterostroske if you want to talk), 10/21/22

Kissing all over your chest and hands 

Rubbing each part of your body i know you enjoy 

Getting pleasure out of all the physical parts of me I once called my own 

And now my clothes are coming off

But i’m getting scared 

Cause they are touching all the parts I once called my own

While it makes me feel confident 

I don’t want to show you that 

And lot can happen in such a little amount of time 

Cause then it’s all over 

And now I’m laying in my bed and I have to be confident in the dark 

By myself 

Finally 

ALONE

-NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER MIDNIGHT 10/19/2022

When I “retired” from my sport, I felt like a wash-up. Without the nightly practice, I got home from school and just had nothing to do. I lost my sense of purpose. I didn’t know how to fill my time, and I had no motivation to do anything. I didn’t know how to enjoy working out, when it was voluntary and not something that was required of me. I also had to learn how to feel comfortable working out by myself, which is something I am still working on because I got so used to always having my teammates at workouts. When I eventually got bored of watching TV all day, I realized I didn’t have any hobbies or things I do “for fun”; I realized that everything I had done was required of me: school and sports. That’s about it. Looking back, I don’t know how I felt as fulfilled as I did for most of these years because I didn’t really enjoy what I was doing. And when I quit my sport, I had the greatest wakeup call; I felt like I hadn’t accomplished shit in my life, that I wasn’t doing as much as other people, and that there was nothing unique or special about me. 

I had to teach myself how to exercise because it makes me feel good, not because I necessarily need to “stay in shape.” I am trying to get better at running because I clear my head when I do it. Obviously, in the beginning stages of quitting my sport, I did not want to workout or exercise because it had always been an obligation and something I did not enjoy, so I felt if I didn’t have to, why would I? I obviously gained weight (which led to body dysmorphia) and I felt the only way to look “myself” again was to throw up my food. And yeah, this obviously made me lose weight, but it made me feel shitty all the time, not only nauseating all day, but mentally too–I always felt guilty and anxious. I then started abusing exercise by pushing my body so hard until I threw up, so I didn’t feel as guilty for doing it and my parents would have a lesser chance of realizing it was really just an eating disorder.

In conclusion, it’s been a really long process, but finding things that make me happy and hopeful for the future took a long time and a lot of tries. When I got over my eating disorder, I had a clearer head and I was able to travel, where I learned so much about myself. I learned how much I love nature and how much I love the feeling I get from exercising. If anyone is struggling with or has struggled with any of this, I hope you got something from this. If not, that’s okay too and just thank you for reading this all the way through. 

-Anonymous 10/19/22

I've always struggled with the duality of me. How can one be a young human being figuring out the world, and not be self critical of every choice they make? And on top of that, fit the molds that are predetermined for them from the start? I find that I am constantly disappointed in how I fit into these molds. I'm never as judgmental of anyone as I am of myself and I know that. But if I critique myself, then will it not hurt as much if someone else does? The answer is undoubtedly no. But I will say that there is a comfort in creating my own insecurities. The one part of my brain wants me to be content with the one body and mind I will ever have, but the duality of it is that I simply am not. 

-Anonymous 10/19/2022

I never got to go to my high school graduation. Instead, I was in a residential treatment facility where I resided for 90 days. I couldn’t do it anymore. Life, that is. I had been in therapy for around 12 years at that point and had been attempting to find the right “concoction” of medications with my doctors for years. I was depressed, I was anxious, I was alone. I also felt like nothing. I was so incredibly detached from myself and I just really wanted the pain to end. I would’ve done anything for that pain of feeling nothing to end. I almost did. My chest felt weighed down by a cement block that pressed and squeezed all of the love and joy out of my heart and out of my life. 

I’m healing now, though. I know I will be healing for the rest of my life, and I should be proud and grateful—I am for the most part—but I’m also extremely embarrassed. I majorly dislike that I’m embarrassed because I had to go through something so normal. I hate that what I had to go through is considered normal in any capacity. I also hate using the word hate. But at least I don’t hate myself anymore. 

-Anonymous 10/19/2022

The action of comparison controls my life. I’ve been comparing myself to others since a young age. I have never quite felt as though I was enough. I’ve never been comfortable with myself and have always been insecure about how I look, how I present myself, and how others perceive me. It feels like I’m constantly competing with the people around me and trying to shadow every aspect of them. The reason I do this is that I’ve never felt happy with myself. I’ve never felt like I’ve been the best at something or that anyone finds me interesting in my own way. It’s nearly impossible for me to appreciate myself for who I am. I must be this “perfect” person in order for people to like me and see me. Sometimes I feel like I'll never be able to be proud of myself or find myself beautiful. Comparison is something that will forever be in the back of my mind and it’s going to take time to learn to love myself. I hope everyone reading this knows you are special in your own unique beautiful way and I just hope you can see that one day.  

-Anonymous (10/19/22)

Since high school had started, I'm a senior now, it's always been a struggle being able to be happy and positive. Since the covid year and other things school has been really honestly miserable. I go through cycles, depressive episodes. When I get too stressed I just ignore everything. My grades slip, my room gets really messy. I want to share this because I want others to know that it isn't disgusting. That you aren't a burden. Take the time you need to heal and it slowly gets better with time. Always. Thank you.

-Kaili Herriage 10/18/2022

Have you ever felt so out of control you catch yourself craving any sense of control?

I have. And how did I regain a sense of “control”? An eating disorder… I know so many people deal with ED’s and honestly, it pisses me off that they are so common that there is an abbreviation as nonchalant as “ED,” but it also gives me hope. Hope that if this many people, over 28.8 million Americans (diagnosed at least), are familiar with this grey cloud, then people can start to talk about it. I describe an eating disorder as a grey cloud because it sort of is just always looming over your head, fogging your judgment, depressing your constant mental state. I find that when my anxiety is at its peak and I have so many assignments and tests and events and commitments and jobs and responsibilities…I will start to feel depressed…and I feel myself sort of spiraling, which leads to things that are bad for me. So why do I do them? I don’t know, but no one chooses mental illnesses–I like to view them as challenges, where it may help to have open conversations and be able to relate to one another.

-Anonymous 10/18/2022

Happiness seems so out of grasp to me. It seems like everyone around me is so content with their life and I'm the only one struggling. I'm constantly the girl who has a smile on her face but no one really knows what goes on behind that. No one knows that I don't have cool parents to talk to, that I don't have many close friends that I can share my secrets with, that I hate myself everyday for the way I look, that I'm not who I truly want to be, or that I just sometimes want it to all be over. As hard as it may get, I encourage you to find an outlet that gives you that spark that you so badly want to feel. For me, I channel it all into music and songwriting, and even though I cringe at the thought of anyone hearing my music right now, maybe one day I can share it with the world. Maybe one day, I'll find the peace I'm looking for, but for right now, I just have to wait for everything to come to me.

-Anonymous 10/18/2022

I'm not keeping this anonymous, I know a lot of you know me and remember your view of me, so this will gain a lot more weight when you can apply it to what you saw and thought about me. I’m just going to explain the main parts of my life story because there’s a wide variety of issues I think many people could get comfort from knowing they can relate to someone or at least just learn from it and gain perspective. or both. I won’t be including every detail and overall aspect, if I did it would literally be the length of the earth itself and probably break this google form. ~~ If you’re sensitive to topics like childhood neglect, drug and alcohol abuse, sexual abuse, eating disorders, self hatred, self harm etc maybe don’t read this because it’s gonna be a big boy. I think the most important thing to begin with is the fact that pretty early in life I realized that my parents didn’t really care about me, they basically only had me to fit the image of typical suburban family, so just knowing that immediately dampened my self-worth and made me feel like I’m not worth it as a person or like I should amount to anything or care about myself. As a small child, you may not realize this consciously or be able to articulate it, but you feel the energy of their lack of care for you and the fact that there are ulterior motives and something not good going on. Over the course of my childhood, I noticed a ton of issues between my parents and their relationship with me and my siblings.

I have two sisters, and the first thing I realized between them and my parents (especially my mom) is that she always pressured them to look a certain way and to never gain any fat and to control their portions and their diet, and even as a child I realized how demeaning this was and how my parents were just using us for their image and to extend themselves into another person rather than to care for us because they genuinely wanted to. The next major issue I noticed with my parents is that my dad was never around because he was at work, which I guess makes sense, but my mom had no job, nothing to do really and no other responsibilities other than her personal desires and her kids, and yet she had my grandma (and later a nanny, shoutout Angie ily) come over almost every day to watch us because she simply didn’t want to and she would rather hang out with her friends and have fun. There’s a ton of these small details, but I think the most important thing to realize is those tiny little remarks, such as if you accidentally open the dishwasher while it’s running and you get yelled at and your parents insult you for making a simple mistake like that, these are the types of things that instill in your mind that every tiny mistake is detrimental to your life, and later, anything wrong that you do no matter how big or small it is, is going to have a major effect on you and could even ruin your entire day or week or month etc and fuel your self hatred. Another major thing I remember is that when I was in school (like 1st grade and on), I would be somewhat distracting because I would say stuff out loud randomly, or just be unable to focus and sit still, and this caused my mom to seek out drugs for me and she ended up putting me on Adderall when I was six years old because the doctor diagnosed me with ADHD (which is a real disorder, i just think it’s ridiculous to diagnose that because a literal 6 year old can’t focus on one task at a time, it just seems a bit harsh and unfair especially at that age) and I think that’s where my chemical imbalance began, stimulants increase your dopamine a ridiculous amount and when you end up not taking that anymore, your dopamine levels drop. Not to mention, when you grow up taking that type of medication especially when you don’t need to, your brain develops in a way to rely on outside factors to get dopamine and satisfaction, leaving you with no internal way to feel “okay”. I’m only bringing up the specific part because I think a lot of parents (especially in these Scottsdale type of areas) have put their kids on a stimulant because they are “distracting” and I find it very disgusting and if that happened to you, I hope you can realize the negative effects it forced on you and how a lot of them really just aren’t your fault at all. Anyways, the next thing I can remember is trying out almost every sport and hobby and never being satisfied with it. I think this stemmed from the fact that my parents never acknowledged the good things I did and solely focused on the mistakes I made and vilified me for each one, and when you grow up being treated that way, you’re simply not going to be satisfied with yourself until you work on that subconsciously, usually in therapy. This was a daily thing for me, being constantly ridiculed for the smallest mistakes and for things that made me not fit into the box of “the average/normal person” and this really cut into me and never allowed me to develop a self esteem because they stressed me like an adult since birth. I was already severely depressed by this point and my mom would get me therapy, but here’s the thing. When you’re that age, you don’t get confidentiality, my mom would manipulate the therapist and ensure that she seemed completely innocent for her own overblown ego, when in reality she was like 50% of the issue, this held me back significantly since genuine therapy without being tainted by someone else wasn’t something I had available. Anyways flash forward a couple years to when I was 11 years old and I found my moms weed and I tried it. A year went by after that, I hadn’t thought about it much, but by 12 my sister had shown me her Juul and asked if I wanted to try it (pretty sure she just wanted me to be part of it so i wouldn’t ever find her stuff and snitch if i was also doing it) and I remember instantly getting addicted to nicotine because it gave me that comforting feeling I never genuinely received as a child. And this is really where it all spirals out of control, so if you ignored my little trigger warning, now would be the time to stop reading. By 12-13, I began smoking weed somewhat regularly (maybe 1-3 times a week) because it just made me feel okay and happy, Here’s the thing, I get that weed isn’t physically addictive, but it has this quality that makes you feel satisfied with your surroundings and choices no matter how bad they are. So yes, weed is an extremely powerful drug and it has the ability to make you complacent and stagnant and it’s highly addictive and damaging whether physically addictive or not. So stop being f*cking ridiculous and calling it harmless especially as a teenager who doesn’t have a developed brain. So that began, which means my brain kind of stopped developing in certain areas and soon after starting all that, I discovered alcohol. at first, I thought, "This feels nice but it has too many side effects to use it regularly" so for a while I didn’t use it much at all. But by 13, I realized the feeling it gave me was worth the burn and the occasional headaches, so I started to abuse it (not everyday or even every week, although I did later) and this was another thing that made my brain develop a bit sideways. Sh*t really hit the fan at age 14 when I discovered oxycodone because my mom was prescribed it for cancer-related pain, and there were about 120 pills in there so I figured taking one wouldn’t make a difference. I took it after some apprehension, it kicked in, and I felt absolutely magical. Opioids are a very precious substance and they give you a feeling of comfort like nothing else in this world other than human touch, so to discover that as a mistreated/abused 14-year-old was a ridiculously life changing discovery. It started to wear off after about 3 hours, and I immediately went back downstairs and grabbed 5-6 more to save for next time. Instantly, my opioid addiction began because it provided the feeling that I lacked, needed, deserved and wanted more than anything in this world. Before I explain this next part, I think it’s important to mention the hypocrisy from my sister, who was the one who showed me all these drugs in the first place and influenced me worse than anybody else in life. For her to get upset about my choices was so ridiculously unfair when she had sparked two of them directly from the beginning. But anyway, the typical nicotine and weed habits continued, my mom would constantly find my stuff, tell my siblings and make me feel ashamed by everyone in the house, which fueled my anxiety and depression. I eventually started to steal a bit of money from everyone in the house to fuel this addiction (which at this point, was a survival instinct. it isn’t just a fun game or something rebellious to do, your brain literally processes opioids the same way as food and water after just a couple months of it) and I started to hate myself more and more everyday because of the pain I was causing them. —*tw* sexual abuse and prostitution— Eventually, I couldn’t keep stealing medication as the person prescribed needed every last pill they were getting, and they were getting better at hiding it from me. So, at 14, I got on a dating site and started selling myself in order to fuel this addiction. My mom already had a habit of ignoring me, so this wasn’t hard to do. Every night I'd walk out the backyard door and just go do what I did, receive my money (or just drugs and alcohol directly a lot of the time) and I’d either take those or go buy stuff off a dealer. The amount of damage I received just from this was ridiculous, having sex with people I usually wasn’t attracted to fueled my self hatred a ton and taught me that it doesn’t matter how I personally feel. Not to mention, receiving *perceived* affection this way only enhances your issues with wanting human connection as you end up receiving it in an unhealthy, perverted way and not realizing it was wrong until later. Sexual abuse is so demeaning and it gives you an eternal fear of your surroundings, so if you already having anxiety or any other issues, this will multiply it a stupid amount. after a certain amount of this, you genuinely disconnect from the reality you live in and you lose just about everything that matters to you, including your identity. This went on for maybe 6 months, i started getting into heroin because even 15 Oxycodones couldn’t affect me and my mom knew logically she couldn’t keep neglecting me or other people would start noticing and doubt her as a parent. This is what truly made her get me some help, the fact that her image personally could have been ruined if people knew how much she didn’t give a shit, and when I realized that, I fell apart entirely. **tw self harm** I started to cut myself a lot more, and I forgot to mention earlier in the story, I began self harming at around seven years old because at that point I already hated myself so much due to my upbringing. at this point, my day to day life went like this: wake up, hit nicotine, hit some weed, cut myself, snort a pill or two, take a shower and get ready for school, stuff my pockets with pills, hide my nicotine and weed vapes on my body, go to school, get high off weed and oxy all day long, listen to everyone judge me and call me a piece of shit because they thought i was just a mentally ill, drug addict for fun or something, go home, cry, fail to do my homework unless I had some adderall to take, smoke a ton of weed, drink alcohol if it was available, try to sleep, then that repeated for a while. I ended up going to rehab for 3 months and it didn’t immediately work, I relapsed on my mom's oxy's, which I stole because she’s so fucking clueless on the plane ride home and continued using oxy/weed/alcohol/nicotine and whatever else I could get my hands on for about six more months. eventually, I discovered general spirituality and how energy works, this is what pulled me out of my constant opioid addiction for about 2 years, (like age 15-17) with maybe 1 or 2 minor slips in there, as in 2-3 day binges, nothing major honestly. but overall, I did amazing in those two years and I stayed clean (apart from weed and nicotine). More family issues happened, my mom had been in and out of like 15 relationships by this point, a couple of them lasting for a while and that on it’s own took a toll on me watching so many failed relationships (not to mention the dysfunction within them that my siblings and i noticed every time). Plus, there was this one guy she got with directly after my dad divorced her, he ended up moving in, my siblings and I realized almost immediately how toxic and gross he was, we tried to explain that to her and warn her. She didn’t respond to this (understandably, love is very blinding whether true or not) and it hurt me a lot to realize my opinion didn’t matter to her in that aspect either, so took more damage on me. Eventually I just ignored every guy she brought back because there was no point, they’ll realize she’s insane after some time, and then run away. A few months after turning 17, alcohol creeped back in. It wasn’t constant, but it was everyday for like a couple weeks at a time, then I’d take a break for a couple weeks/months, but at the end of the day it was always on my mind. The alcohol issues went up and down, the amount of therapy went up and down, etc. At 16 and a half, I got into a relationship with someone I met online. it started off as just an online sexual thing (probably due to my sexual issues and not knowing how to navigate that properly and still trying to) and he ended up providing that feeling of comfort and genuine care and love which was the first time I had EVER felt that at all. So of course, I stayed in this for about 2 years. I recently got out of it around six months ago and It’s still pretty blurry, I don't know how toxic of a person he was, but at the end of the day, you’re a creep if you’re 33 telling a 16 year old how hot they are, so I know that it was valid for me to feel upset. I wasn’t innocent, my sh*tty upbringing led me to have tons of trust issues and I genuinely did try to psychologically abuse him to take out my anger and jealousy that I felt being so far away from him, mixed with the way he would act as a grown man, which was too much for me to take in as a damaged 16-year-old. Overall it was just very messy, heart wrenching, self-esteem destroying and painful. This led me to abuse alcohol to this day honestly, I still drink every week. I’ve also gained a mild eating disorder, it’s one thing that I have control over so my thoughts are like "if I can keep my waist cinched, maybe my internal pain will chill out a bit." Plus, societal standards lead you there pretty easily, and feeling attractive is very numbing. Alcohol abuse/poisoning led me to be able to throw up with ease, which is another danger of alcohol abuse that most people don’t consider, it opens the door to other issues. I’ve toned it down a ton and I’m proud of my effort and progress bringing down my alcohol-use as of lately. Not to mention, I decided to significantly decrease my nicotine-use about 2.5 months ago, I have only two cigarettes a day and a nicotine free vape throughout the day, but that’s nothing compared to the 2ml of 55mg vape juice everyday so it’s still major progress. I also quit smoking weed entirely about a month ago, which has been absolutely magical for me, I’m so much more productive and I genuinely crave progress in my life now and I really don’t hate myself anymore due to that and my weekly therapy that my mom no longer influences. Not to mention, quitting weed allows you to have vivid dreams at night again, those are incredible. so yeah, I think that’s about it for now, although this didn’t end with “and now i’m sober and happy and perfect yay!” I think it still shows how much you can improve even after such severe issues and I hope anyone who can relate to this and is still here today realizes how incredibly strong they are, and that progress happens at all types of speeds and consistencies and to never give up. You’re going to have amazing days, those days are gonna turn into shitty ones, then it feels average. Life will never stop changing and you never just “feel okay.” It’s a constant up and down and all you can do is try to make the ups and downs closer to one another if that makes any sense. You live and you learn and if you made it this far, you’re gorgeous, I hope your day was amazing.

-Anthony Alix 10/18/2022

Sometimes I feel like I’m grasping for a standard. It’s a bar above my head set by someone completely different than I, so why do I care so much? Yet it is so constant in my mind. It’s consuming, nerve wracking, and makes me anxious. I’m not funny enough, I’m not easy going enough, I’m not good enough. How these ideas got there, I don’t know, but whether I pay attention to it or not I feel like I’m constantly reminded of it. However, I am my own person. I’m not meant to be held to the standards of others and I am unique and beautiful as my own person. College applications do not define you. Hair color, your sense of humor, or your defining characteristics are a beautiful sentiment to the individual person you are. I think it’s important to remember, the world wants to see you and not who you think you’re supposed to be. I want to get to know the real you and I hope you do the same.

-Anonymous 10/18/2022

I’m terrified of disappointment. I’m terrified that when I look back at my decisions and where I’ve ended up my loved ones will look at me with pity and disappointment. All I’ve ever wanted was to make my parents proud and be a perfect example to my siblings and because of that I left no room for error. The constant self degradation for not living up to these self administered standards was an intense source of anxiety, I felt that if I didn’t model this image of the perfect son, brother, and student I was a failure. The external praise I received for living these falsehoods only temporally eased the crushing feeling of not being enough. I wish I had known that what my parents loved about me was not all my accomplishments but purely the fact I was their son. I wish I knew earlier that what my brothers needed was a friend who knew how they felt and not a mold that they thought they needed to fit into. By showing my faults and imperfections not only were my parents incredibly proud of the things which I was able to overcome but I was able to be proud of myself for welcoming failure and the lessons it brings. Sometimes there’s just that one thing you need to hear and for me it was my grandfather telling me that no matter what I do he will always love me and be proud that I’m his grandson. So if you haven’t heard yet I’m proud of you, I’m proud of your failures, I’m proud of you for pushing on despite failing, I’m proud of you for improving, and you are so much more than what you’ve accomplished.

-Anonymous 10/21/22

Tonight I tried to write lyrics to a song and it left me feeling hopeless. Trying not to be cliche is such a struggle, especially when you really don’t know what to write about. My sister and her friends are all so talented and make me feel as though writing a song shouldn’t be as difficult as it is. And yet here I am, writing lyrics that would be better off in a book of poems about broken relationships which I have very little experience in. And yet I somehow always find myself writing about such a depressing topic. I think I feel the need to try and  break away from the crowd of people at my school. Being in such a populated major is making me feel like becoming a successful creator in my field may be harder than I think. Of course I would want to be a successful musician, who wouldn’t. And I feel somewhat confident with my ability to sing or play a guitar, but then I try to write lyrics. I get in my head and try to avoid stereotypes which just leads to me feeling stupid. And I’m writing this because I hope one day I can come back to this document whenever I need it, and find inspiration to step out of the box, to diversify my interests so that I’m not always following the pack. And when I’m in my head, thinking way too much about something, I can realize that almost every singer goes through a creative drought. They don't like their lyrics and they feel like they are in a dry spell; then they break through and find the lyrics that really fit them, the lyrics that spark that creative energy. That’s where artists separate themselves from the pack, when most people would give up because they feel stupid, artists keep going and realize that it’s their job to find the beauty in anything and everything. 

-Owen Castle 08/18/2022

I’m sure there is a reason you are reading this. Maybe you’re heartbroken, lonely, or just having a shitty day. Everyone has been there before, so there should be some comfortability in this loneliness. The funny thing is that when you’re happy, that feeling when you’re alone is no longer a feeling of vulnerability, but instead a feeling of content. There is no sorrow when you are alone and happy with yourself, that comes when you feel as though you are at your lowest. The familiarity between the two can make it difficult to understand, but soon you find that the loneliness you’re feeling seeps its way into every second of every minute of your day. That comfortability within yourself turns into a void of anxiety. Sometimes you’re not even sure what the anxiety is stemming from, it just exists. And yet it’s okay. Everyone has been there before, so there should be some comfortability in this loneliness. The point of this project is to create stories that emphasize the feeling of community within sadness. When it feels like the only person who can help resolve the problem is yourself, these stories are here to be read to reassure you that people understand your struggle, even when it feels like there’s no way that anyone could understand how you’re feeling. 

-Owen Castle 08/22/2022