Never Doubt I Love

Never Doubt I Love 

John McDermott

In an age of troubles 

In an age of uncertainty 

In an age of dwindling hope

You still have me

No matter where you are

No matter how far from home

No matter if you're lost

You still have me

Doubt that the stars are fire

Doubt that the earth doth move

Doubt truth to be a liar

But never doubt I love

Never doubt I love

You may lose things dear to you

You may feel naked and alone

You may think that you're losing your faith 

But you still have me

Remember when you're tired

Remember when you're defeated

They can take all your dreams

But you still have me

Doubt that the stars are fire

Doubt that the earth doth move

Doubt truth to be a liar

But never doubt I love

Never doubt I love

I feel like this song could go so many ways.... It could be a friend talking to another friend, it could be a parent talking to their child, or a child to a parent. It could be from one lover to another, it could be between husband and wife. Or, it could be a beautiful representation of God's unconditional love for us.

Part of the beauty of it, in fact, is that it doesn't delineate the relationship between the speaker and the one being spoken to. It just admonishes the person who is being spoken to to remember that no matter what comes, no matter how they feel, no matter if they lose everything, the speaker's love will never leave, never lessen, never ever ever disappear. 

And that's gorgeous. 

<3 Tirzah.

The Minstrel Boy

The Minstrel Boy (traditional) 

The minstrel boy to the war has gone

In the ranks of death you'll find him

His father's sword he has girded on 

And his wild harp slung behind him 

"Land of song" said the warrior bard

"Though all the world betray thee

One sword at least thy rights shall guard

One faithful harp shall praise thee"

The minstrel fell but the foeman's chains

Could not bring his proud soul under

The harp he loved never spoke again 

For he tore its chords asunder 

And said "No chains shall sully thee

Thou soul of love and bravery

Thy songs were made for the pure and free

They shall never sound in slavery"

The minstrel boy shall return again

When we hear the news we shall cheer it

The minstrel boy shall return again 

Torn perhaps in body, not in spirit

Then may he play his harp in peace

In a world as heaven intended

When all the words of war shall cease

And every battle be ended

Enough?

I don't know what's wrong with me, but lately I've been feeling stuck in a loop. 

It's like, every time I think I've finally overcome one issue, another resurfaces. 

Funny how that works, isn't it? 

I hate talking about this particular issue, because I keep thinking I'm better, but sometimes, it kinda occurs to me that maybe I'm not after all...because today we talk about eating disorders. 

See, I remember when I was 14 and weighed 129 lbs at 5' tall and wore size 9 jeans and I thought I was fat, but not enough to seriously do something about it. I just wore skirts instead of pants, because I knew I looked skinnier in them. I mean, sure, I'd periodically decide that I needed to lose weight, but it never really lasted. I'd juice for a day or two, then I was back to normal eating.

I'd cry over my reflection, my weight, and I'd cry after hanging out with friends because I knew I weighed more than them, but due to my hate/fear of exercise, I never really fixed it. 

And then I turned 16 and accidentally realized that if I skipped lunch, I lost weight. 

So I did that until my mother got suspicious because I fell asleep every afternoon and lost all my energy. But, I had a goal. 117. I thought if I just got down below 120, I'd be happy, pretty, and, finally, skinny. 

But..things didn't quite work out that way. 

See, I reached my goal. But I wasn't skinny. I still saw fat when I looked in the mirror. And I had only lost three jean sizes, and I still was fatter than all my friends, or, at least, that's what I saw. 

So, I set a new goal. 111. After all, that's how much my mother said she used to weigh when she was at the prime of her youth and beauty - granted, she's about five or six inches taller than me, but... I thought it seemed like a fair goal. 

But, there's something else. Something called size zero. Something I've obsessed over ever since I found out what it was, which was years and years ago. And that became my ultimate goal. I swore that if I wasn't a size zero I wasn't actually skinny.

So I developed a full blown eating disorder, and eventually worked my way all the way down to 104 lbs. 

The day I bought my first pair of size zero jeans should have been a proud day. After all, I had finally done it, hadn't I? Instead, all I could see, pulling them on, were the rolls of fat which hung over the waistband and the fact that my thighs touched. I remember sighing and promising myself one last goal - 100 lbs. 

Now, not only am I short - I'm 5'1 on a good day - but I'm small boned, so 100 isn't really as scary as it sounds. 

I drove myself insane over those last five pounds, to the point of cutting if I ate, and surviving on anywhere from 0 - 500 calories a day. The fewer calories I ate, the sicker I felt, but at least I was getting skinny, right? 

Wrong. 

I didn't lose any more weight. It all collapsed and I spent a week in the hospital for trying to kill myself. 

Now, you'd think I would have learned my lesson by then, right? But nope, not me. One of the first things I did after getting home was weigh myself... I had only gained four pounds, so I tried not to worry about my eating. I just got over my fear of exercising, exercised daily, and tried to eat normally, or at least, not obsess over how many calories were in what I consumed. 

Fast forward three months, and I've gained fourteen pounds from the weight I was when I entered the hospital. 

Just typing that makes me cringe. 

But, and here's the thing, I can fit my size zero jeans. 

So why did I spend this afternoon crying over the fact that the number on the scale is so high? 

Because - and I finally get it now - it's never enough. 

There's a quote..from the book Wintergirls... which goes like this: "The number doesn't matter. If I got down to 070.00, I'd want to be 065.00. If I weighed 010.00, I wouldn't be happy until I got down to 005.00. The only number that would ever be enough is 0. Zero pounds, zero life, size zero, double zero, zero point. Zero in tennis is love. I finally get it." 

And I do. I finally get it. 

See, it's not about the number on the scale, or the jean size. It's about how it's never enough to satisfy the vicious voice in my head constantly telling me I'm fat, consuming me with despair. 

I'm wearing size zero jeans - something I've longed for for years - what more could I possibly want? 

To be 100? But then I'd want to be 95. And then I'd want to be 90. 

Because it's never enough. No matter what I do, no matter how many goals I set and how much weight I lose, and how low I can drop my jean size, it's never enough. 

And I'm torn between knowing that this mentality is the kind of unhealthy that will drive me into an early grave, and, quite frankly, prioritizing the rolls of fat on my belly and the lack of a gap between my thighs over my life. 

Ridiculous? Yeah, probably. 

Or maybe it's just what happens when an eating disorder screws with your mind. It messes things up. 

"I lift my arm out of the water. It's a log. Put it back under and it blows up even bigger. People see the log and call it a twig. They yell at me because I can't see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs. Nobody can make it stop".- (Wintergirls)

Nobody, that is, but God...and me. 

But do I care to make it stop? 

That.....that is the real question. 

And to be honest, I don't know. 

I really don't. 

On "Attention Seeking Whores"

For some reason, people have this notion that if you're pretty, or thin, or have a boyfriend, or get good grades, or have a lot of friends, then you're not allowed to feel ugly or stupid, or fat, or unloved, or like no one would care if you lived or died. 

And, if you venture a comment on your own insecurities, you're instantly labelled an "attention seeking whore". 

People toss around comments like "If you think you're fat, what does that make me?", "Oh, you're just doing it for attention", "if you really think you're ugly, then why bother wearing makeup?" "We all have insecurities, you just need to ignore it", and then wonder why people isolate themselves in towers of pain. 

Just because you think I'm pretty, doesn't mean that I see myself as pretty. And if I post selfies, it doesn't always mean that I think I'm pretty or attractive or gorgeous, or anything of the sort. It could just mean that I'm trying to face my fears, and I hope that maybe one day I will be able to see myself the way you say you see me. 

Just because you may think I'm smart, doesn't mean I think I am. After all, I know better than anyone the amount of nights I've stayed up till midnight studying, the way I forget answers on tests, and the low scores that I don't talk about. 

Just because you say you love me, doesn't mean that I can always tell, or that I won't have bad days where I feel like no one in the world cares. 

Just because you complement me doesn't mean that I'll always believe you and not immediately assume that you're doing it just to make me feel better about myself, or looking through rose colored glasses, because I've seen the way I look without makeup and clothes, and it's not pretty or skinny. 

Just because you say any guy would be lucky to have me doesn't mean that I think so, or guys think so either, for that matter! 

And why am I not allowed, even at home, to tell you not to compare me to her because "she's so much prettier than I am!" without being told that I'm an attention seeker? 

I mean, yeah, if someone deliberately says they're ugly for a complement, that's one thing...wait..why is that wrong, again?...but if someone consistently has said that they don't think they're pretty, they're not pretty, and that they're ugly and fat, then who gave you the right to tell them they're attention seeking?! 

You have no idea what's going on in their life, and even if you do, there will always - always - always - be things that you still don't know, either because they're ashamed to say it, or because they don't want to sound needy or attention seeking. 

And I for one am royally sick of being told that I'm looking for attention when I simply tell you the truth how I see it. 

Come on, people. 

We can do better than this. 

I know we can. 

The Lessons They'll Never Admit You Learn From High School

As high school draws to a close, I must admit, the thought has crossed my mind more than once,"What exactly have I learned from it?"

I know what they wished me to learn, of course, and what they desire me come away with. It's a worldview liberally sprinkled with conservatism and dominionism and reconstructionism and all the philosophies of a man named George Grant on Western Civilization's embodiment of Christianity.

But, in reality, that's not what I learned.

Don't mistake me.

I learned a lot.

But what I'm taking away from high school isn't history dates and dead people and artists who sculpt nudes and writers who can write beautiful poetry because they left their wives.

Was it C. S. Lewis who called experience "the most brutal of teachers, but you learn, my God, do you learn"? And believe me, I've learned.

I've learned men are not trustworthy, and will claim to love you only as long as you do what they wish you to, and once you are no longer useful to them, will dump you like a used rag.

I've learned that even though he claims that he's a Christian, that doesn't mean he won't lie to you, hurt you, manipulate you, betray you, discard you, and break your trust along with your heart.

I've learned that my definition of 'Christlike' is very different from the one held by most of Christendom.

I've learned that when teachers ask for your opinion, they don't really wish to hear your opinion. They merely wish to hear their opinion restated in your words.

I've learned that friends are not forever - no matter how many times they swear they'll never leave.

I've learned that when someone asks how you are, they want to hear you talk about school and homework and how you can't wait for summer, not that you're sad and heartbroken and aren't sure you wish to live anymore.

I've learned that crying yourself to sleep every night is perfectly normal, but you just can't admit it, otherwise, you're dramatic, attention seeking, and weak.

I've learned that music and blades will always be there for you, and those who promise to always be there for you are spinning a web of lovely lies in order to comfort themselves.

I've learned that depth frightens people, and shallow uniform girls that worry about nothing beyond whether or not they look cute is what I must be if I want him to notice me.

I've learned that people get more worked up over whether or not you have a date to Prom, than whether or not you're alive.

I've learned that long sleeves, makeup, and a smile can cover anything.

I've learned that love is pointless, painful, overrated, and absolutely nothing like the movies. If your parents say no, he's not going to come back. Your first kiss will not be fireworks and flying sparks, you won't have someone fall really and truly in love with you, and you most definitely will not find your soulmate unless you're one of a very few very lucky.

I've learned that whoever painted the teenage years as a vision of cut - off jeans, summer love, happiness, carefree days and nights, and friendships that last was either drunk, crazy, or dreaming.

I've learned that Romeo and Juliet is not romance, that in fact, true romance doesn't exist, that no matter how much you love him, he won't even remember your name five years from now, much less the way you adored him.

I've learned that the pretty and popular girls are just as empty inside as the ones who are neither, and that they aren't above slitting their wrists or drowning their sorrows in alcohol.

I've learned that skinny and perfect is all that matters to high school boys, and there is no room in their minds for lonely girls with wide eyes the color of heartbreak.

I've learned that the books are liars, because sadness is never beautiful, and no one will kiss your scars but you.

I've learned that dances aren't places where you laugh and are free and meet a gorgeous stranger who rocks your world. Rather, they are awkward, and strange, and you will spent most of your time standing around watching him dance with her and wishing it was you instead.

I've learned that destroying yourself is sometimes the only way to rebuild yourself, and if you've never been broken, you'll never learn.

I've learned that coffee and lipstick are the ultimate cure-alls, and no matter how late you were up crying last night, after coffee and lipstick, no one ever has to know.

I've learned that whether or not mothers think their sons may be distracted by the sight of your skin/shape/shoulders/straps is more important than whether or not you get an education without being shamed for something you, oftentimes, have no control over.

I've learned that parents aren't perfect, and if we're honest, they're sometimes just about as messed up as we are, they just don't always like admitting it.

I've learned that there is no foolproof method to go about childraising, schooling, relationships, and that man-made formulas are often the source, not the averters, of disaster.

I've learned that it is far more important to have a few real friends, even if they live across the country from you, than to have hundreds of gossip - mongers posing as friends, sharpening their knives to plunge them into your vulnerablity.

I've learned that suicide is not cowardice. Not now, not ever.

I've learned that sex is oftentimes no more than a commodity, cheaply bartered for yet another bottle of beer, and that despite drinking laws, teenagers regularly operate under the misconception that they are immune to any and all punishment for their actions.

I've learned that heartbreak is life, women and men are not equal, and everyone has their own cookie cutter mold which you must fit into in order to deserve their love

And I've learned more....oh, ever so much,

But most importantly, to quote Robert Frost,

I've learned that "life...goes...on".

It always has, and always shall, and each morning dawns anew, and I am strong, and I am alone, and if I can survive high school, there is very little which I cannot survive.

<3 Tirzah

On Forgiveness and Trust : A Question

The exasperating thing about forgiveness is that there seems to be no general consensus on what exactly 'true forgiveness' means. 

 

Even among Christians, forgiveness can mean anything from 'refusing to allow their behavior to affect your life', to 'not holding something against someone', to 'reinstating them in your life, and giving them back the trust which was broken when they hurt you'. 

I promise I'm not just rambling, though. I do have a rather specific reason for this post, even if it's just something I need to get off my chest! 

You see, someone I used to know messaged me last night....and wished to catch up, since it's been roughly a year and a half since we last spoke.  

I met this young man almost two years ago through some online classes I was taking at the time, and, well, one thing led to another, and we ended up friends. We were both the oldest child of seven, and after a couple shared study groups, we hit it off.

We both swore we were not romantically interested in each other, we just happened to share several common interests, including guitar, guitar, and....guitar. Well, that, and The Sound of Music. 

*Note to self: allowing a guy to nickname you 'Fraulein', and then nicknaming him 'Captain' in return probably isn't the smartest idea if neither of you claim to be more than friends...*

At any rate, it all escalated rather quickly. Even though he lived in an entirely different state - and time zone, for that matter - we started making plans to meet up, and I believe we even compiled a rather lengthy list of things to do when we finally saw each other.

He confided in me, and I in him, and within literally two weeks of talking, I referred to him as my best friend. He teased me about my height and called me hot and exotic. He made me laugh, and, well, I vehemently denied it at the time, but if I'm being totally honest, I enjoyed being appreciated, and I hadn't yet learned the sheer idiocy of trust. 

He told me his worst secret - that he had kissed a girl - and I, in turn, and partly to make him feel better about it, confessed that I'd read several things that I ended up regretting. His response? "Well, God loves you, and I still think you are a beautiful person inside and out." 

That night we officially made a pact to pray for each other, and be honest about our struggles. 

I was ecstatic. Finally, I though, I had managed the elusive 'just really close friends with a guy'! 

I mean, sure he confused me every now and then with his tendency to ignore me for periods of time, and then make up for it by being super sweet. He was by turns kind and caring, and distant and detached. His apology was always a quote from Patience by Guns n Roses. 

But I assumed that was what guys did, and, well, I trusted him. I trusted that he cared about me, that he sincerely meant what he said, that he wouldn't lie to me, and that we were friends. 

After all, he was a Christian! I didn't have anything to fear from a Christian guy, now, did I?

Three weeks or so after we started talking, he decided that we should, in his words, 'take a step back' and not talk at all over Thanksgiving break. I agreed, and tried to convince myself that I had been thinking the same thing as well. 

So, we didn't talk for a week. 

Then, he talked to me for a day, and told me we were back to being friends just like normal, but then, without so much as a by-your-leave, decided he was back to not talking to me. Only this time, he didn't bother to ask my opinion. He simply decided it all on his own, and ignored me for another entire week, leaving me to frantically wonder just what it was that I did / said wrong in order to deserve such treatment. 

I was never right and he was never wrong. I found myself carefully deliberating over every text I sent, afraid of saying something wrong, afraid of being chastised, and walking on eggshells. Then the real mind games began. 

He spent a month on/off ignoring and sweet talking me, and accusing me of making things up when I asked him why he was acting the way he was. Finally, he came out with the announcement that we were through, since, supposedly, I had become 'emotionally attached', therefore, he was ditching the entire friendship. 

All I remember was pain. Pain and disbelief and.....shock. I do vaguely remember furiously texting a friend that "...I'm me!! I'm 'emotionally attached' to book characters, for crying out loud! And if you're my friend, yes I'm going to care about you. Yes, I will worry if you don't talk to me, and yes I will do all in my power to help you, take care of you, and quite honestly, if you're my friend, I love you. I will do anything for you. It's not wrong, its just how I am. I care way too much. But is that a reason to break off the friendship?" 

My friends were divided between, "what is wrong with you? stop being an idiot. its all your fault.", and "what a jerkhead!"... but the former rather outnumbered the latter. Between carefully hiding my heartbreak from my family, mother's back giving out on her, and frantically searching through my books on 'how to relate to guys' to figure out what I did wrong, I was a mess that Christmas. 

After all, he took no responsibility for the entire fiasco, choosing instead to pin all the blame squarely on me. So, I dealt. I learned to hide my feelings, politely smile and say 'oh?' when he came up in conversation, and renewed old friendships. 

Well. About a month after breaking off the friendship with me, he proceeded to get into a relationship with a mutual friend of ours, who also happened to be my best girlfriend at the time. Long story short, he played her, broke her heart, and moved on. 

The last conversation he and I had ended with him ordering me to erase all of our conversations, and basically, delete our friendship. He called my friend and I terrible names, and I was sure I never wanted anything to do with him again. Not only did he play with my heart, play with my emotions, manipulate me, and play mind games galore, but he would flatter me and tell me how special I was to him, and then treat me as if I mattered not at all. 

However, as of late, I was forced to contact him in order to determine the fate of a blog that he and I had started along with another mutual friend. He replied, telling me to ask our friend, said he had missed me and wondered how I was doing, and when I replied saying that I was well and had already talked to our mutual friend who said to ask him, he ignored my reply for three months. 

Last night, though, he messaged me wanting to catch up, apologized for being an immature jerk, and, when we said goodnight, promised to "talk more, soon". 

Which got me thinking. 

What does forgiveness - true forgiveness - mean? 

Does it mean I am kind and sweet and caring towards him? Or does it mean I am merely civil? 

Does it mean I trust him? Or does it mean I keep him at arms length? 

Does it mean we are back to being friends? Or does it mean that I remain cautious? 

I guess, what's bothering me is, if I truly believe that everyone - no matter what they've done - deserves a second chance, then I am honor and duty bound to give him one as well. 

However, does that mean I place myself back in a position of caring for someone who consistently hurts me? Is that the definition of "love your enemies, do good to those who hurt you and despitefully use you"? 

I don't know... what do y'all think? I'd love some feedback on this issue. 

On Forgetting Eurekas

Maybe it's just me, but I have a hard time remembering the resolutions I make, or, what I call 'eureka moments'...(those of you who know anything about the myth of Archimedes will know what I'm talking about).

For instance, I can determine that I won't give up, but then a month or so later, when life gets a bit harder, I'll completely forget that I ever said that! 

It's almost comical sometimes the way I will remember an obscure comment someone made years and years ago, and yet, when it comes to serious goals involving my life, I'll totally forget what a friend calls my "aha moments". 

Well, I think it ends up happening for three main reasons. I'm sure there are more, but these are just all I can think of at this point in time :) 

1. I don't want others to see because of what they assume if and when they see encouraging quotes around my room. 

Not only do I share a room with my sister, but, reminders not to give up splashed all over my walls tend to prompt questions about my mental state - and I would much rather do without those. 

'So....you have 'never give up' on your wall....am I supposed to be worried?'

'Um...no.'

'Are you sure? Because...if you're cutting yourself, we need to know'

'I'm positive!'

'Then why do you have that on your wall if you're doing well?'

'....a reminder?'

*suspicious glare*

...yeah....

2. I never write them down. Like. Never. 

Most of my aha conversations take place either while I'm rushing out the door, late at night - and I mean, past midnight late - or while otherwise occupied. And by the time I finally get around to my journal, I've other more important things to mention.

'Dear Diary,... mom said no to shorts.....I'm tired.... hate finals week....he thinks he likes me.....nerf war with the siblings....'

You get the drift. 

3. Perhaps most accurately, though, I' ashamed I need the reminders as much as I do. 

Nothing makes me wish to curl up in a corner faster than the thought that I'm damaged, incomplete, or broken. 

I hate it so much. When I was initially diagnosed with depression, I screamed inwardly for days, and was convinced I was irreparably damaged. I'm not even sure that I don't still believe that deep down. 

Therefore, I hate any sort of reminder that I'm not normal.... If I bring up my depression, fine. If you bring it up in order to solve it? No. 

Now, to be clear, I don't think this is necessarily a good habit of mine.. it's one I'm slowly trying to break.. for instance, I did receive a gorgeous hand lettered quote by Winston Churchill on never giving up.... and bought a bracelet with the same quote hand stamped on it... but I could get better at reminding myself that life is worth living.

Therefore.

Any suggestions? :) 

Jesus: Friend of Sinners?

After yesterday's post, the soapbox almost - not quite, but almost - went back under the counter. But a discussion which I had today necessitated its reappearance.

It has come to my attention that, for being a precious lot of Christians, we don't act very Christlike. 

If your past is buried deep in the recesses of history, sometimes you'll get off without a shunning. But if you've made some serious mistakes in the not - so - distant past, or are even, perhaps, working through some issues currently, be prepared for the fire hose of Christian judgmentalism to blast you full force. 

We find out that a girl ran away with her boyfriend, or a young man came out of the closet, or someone's been diagnosed with a mental illness, abused drugs, self harmed, was an alcoholic, was raped, was abused....you name it....and immediately their entire family is the subject of intense scrutiny, shame, and disdain. 

And y'know, it's painfully ironic how we call ourselves Christians - followers of Christ - and yet, Christ never did any of that judgmental shunning which we are pro's at.

Not once, in any of his encounters with the hurting, the broken, those living in open sin, did He condemn. 

Not. Once. 

His response to them was a consistent "Neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more."

And it's pitiful the way Christians are so quick to judge and condemn. 

Especially if someone is no longer living in sin, and has repented and desires to do the hard work of either recovery or rebuilding or just turning away from their sin! But too often, instead of supporting, encouraging, and rallying around the individual and their family, they become outcasts! 

Show me where, in the Bible, Jesus refused to talk to someone because they had sinned. 

Show me where, in the Bible, Jesus shunned an entire family because one member was living in sin. 

Show me where, in the Bible, Jesus condemned a sinner.

Show me where, in the Bible, Jesus turned away a sinner on the basis of their sin.  

Show me!

...oh, that's right, you can't because those verses DON'T EXIST! 

Look at how Jesus treated Mary Magdalene, the Samaritan Woman, the woman caught in adultery, Zacchaeus...and I could go on!

Jesus never kicked the wounded, Jesus never scorned those who had repented, Jesus never ever ever would say to someone who had sinned and was now repentant, "Well, tough luck, you've screwed up too badly for me to ever let you live it down".

Why can't we, as Christians, simply let bygones be bygones, give people a second chance, and freaking move on with life!

I must say, I for one am colossally sick of Christian judgmentalism.

For heaven's sake - literally - can't we at least attempt to live and act like Christ?!

Otherwise, why call ourselves Christians?

Perhaps a better term would be Pharisee...hypocrite...liar.

Because if we don't act like Him, if we don't live like Him, if we don't love like Him, we aren't truly Christians.

We just aren't.

<3 Tirzah

50 Things Never to Say to Someone who Self- Harms, has an Eating Disorder, or is Depressed.

Yes, I realize I'm going out on a limb here, but....I felt like a serious post today, and from personal experience, these hurt. A lot.

If you want to help someone who self harms, has an eating disorder, or who is struggling with depression, please please please don't use these lines. These have all been said to me at one point or another, and they really hurt.

Don't try to minimize my pain or pretend it away. It doesn't help, it just makes me not trust you. Therefore, without further ado...

50 Things Never To Say or Do to a Self - Harmer:

1. "You're just being over-dramatic"

Sometimes, yes, I will get over-emotional. But I am not being dramatic just to get your attention.

2. "Stop with all the teen angst already"

Trust me, if you think this is teen angst, you've clearly not seen teen angst. Teen angst is to look cool. My pain is not.

3. "It's spiritual."

I don't know how many times I can say this! Not. Everything. That. Afflicts. You. Is. Spiritual! 

4. "Just stop cutting."

It's not that easy, it really isn't. 

5. "Just eat normally."

Again. Not. That. Easy. 

6. "When you feel this way, you should pray"

Umm...you could pray for me? 

7. "If you cared about me, you would get better".

This just makes me feel like I can't tell you anything because you can't handle it. 

8. "But you have a good life!"

As if I don't feel bad enough already without you making me feel bad for feeling bad?!

9. "Cover up those scars".

Not only is this mega triggering, it's shaming and makes me want to go curl up and die in some corner. Please don't. 

10. "You just need to learn how to cope."

Umm...hello? This IS me coping! 

11."Promise me you will never (cut,purge,starve) again"

I can't promise you that. I'll break it, and you'll be disappointed in me. 

12. "Cutters are attention seekers"

If I was doing it for attention, I would cut right in front of your blasted face. I wouldn't hide away in my room in the middle of the night and cover the scars with sleeves and bracelets so no one sees! 

13. "But you're skinny enough as it is!"

*facepalm* My eating disorder screws with my perception and I literally cannot see myself the way you do. It's a legit mental illness not just low self esteem. 

14. "But you're so pretty!"

You do realize I have a mirror, right? 

15. "Do you want scars for the rest of your life?"

Hmm.. do you THINK I want scars?!...what do you prefer? Scars or a tombstone!?

16. "If you cut - I'll cut"

I know you mean well. But this won't make me stop cutting. It just makes me stop telling you if/when I do. 

17. "I'll tell your parents"

Okay, unless I'm legitimately on the verge of suicide - as in, I have a plan, deadline, and the means with which to do so, this has the same effect as the previous comment. 

18. "You creep!"

*hides and cries* ... please don't. 

19. "You need help"

...I know that. But I don't need you to tell me that. I just need you to love me and be my friend. Ok?

20. "Happiness is a choice"

Well mental illness isn't. And depression isn't. I didn't choose to be depressed, I can't just choose not to be depressed. 

21. "Medicine makes people crazy"

So you'd rather I stopped taking them, slipped back into severe depression, and worse case scenario, committed suicide?...seems legit. 

22. "Just snap out of it!"

Try telling this to someone with cancer...what about these issues being mental cancer does no one understand?! 

23. "You don't look anorexic"

Well, you don't look like a dumbhead, either...guess looks can be deceiving, huh? 

24. "You should go see a counselor"

All this says to me is 'I don't want to have to deal with you so go away'. Doesn't help one ounce. 

25. "Go take your meds and calm down"

Translation: I am going to use your mental illness as an excuse to illegitimate your problems/pain

26. "You have no reason to be depressed!"

No reason but genetics and a brain sickness and chemical imbalance and living in a fallen world...

27. "Are you emo?"

No. I'm not. 

28. "Do you worship Satan?"

If I did, you'd be dead by now...so no, clearly I don't. 

29. "What happened to your arm!?" *shocked face*

Just....don't. Not in public. Not in front of people. If you ask me alone, that's one thing, but otherwise? No. 

30. "How are you going to explain those scars to your future husband/kids?"

I honestly don't know...maybe I shouldn't have a husband or kids, should I?

31. "Let me see." *touches scars without asking*/ "you're not fat" *pinches arm/stomach*

The last thing to ever do is touch me - my scars, my body - without asking. I don't care if you're my freaking parent. Do. Not. Touch. My. Scars. Without. My. Permission. Do not pinch my stomach. Do not touch my scars. At least ask, and if I say no, respect that. 

32. "You're depressed because you listen to metal".

If you only knew the number of times the music I listen to has saved my life..literally..

33. "Congratulations, you actually ate a decent meal!" *sarcastic clap*

Y'know, I feel bad enough already without you drawing everyone's attention to the fact.... 

34. "You just want to believe in chemical imbalance so you don't have to take responsibility for your depression"

Again. Not. Everything. Is. Spiritual. Someone explain to me how getting help, taking my meds, and doing all in my power to stay well, is avoiding responsibility?!

35."There are children who are starving in China. Eat your food."

.. I know. May I be excused now, please?

36, There are people who have it way worse than you"

And there are people who have it way better than I do. Your argument is invalid. 

37. "You've gotten so thin you look ugly"

Oh. Wow. Way to be encouraging. This isn't even concern this is just plain old mean! 

38. "You've gained weight! You look healthy!"

Please don't comment on my weight. If I've gained weight, chances are I know it all too well and all I'll hear in this comment is the 'you've gained weight' and I'll drive myself crazy over it. 

39. "No boy will ever love you because you're too thin"

....I have no words. 

40. "You won't be depressed/ on meds/ self harm/ have an eating disorder in 5 years. This is just a rough phase.

But what if it lasts a bit longer than just 'a rough phase'? What then? Will you still care? Or will you simply assume that I've failed to get better? 

41. "I could never be anorexic. I love food too much.."

Because you think I don't love food? I would kill to be able to eat carelessly like you.. 

42. "You have so much to be grateful for!"

I know. I know.....honestly, if people could stop guilt tripping people for feeling bad, maybe we'd get somewhere in all this! 

43. "Just recite positive affirmations to yourself in the morning and evening."

Okay. Those don't work, and they don't solve a blasted thing! 

44. "You should go gluten free/dairy free/meat free"

If you think a simple diet change is going to solve everything, you're mistaken. 

45. "Go work out/exercise!"

*slumps in defeat*

46. "I understand exactly how you feel"

Unless you have experienced exactly what I have...do not say this. It automatically destroys any and all credibility which you may possess. 

47. "It's all in your head."

Well, where else would it be?! My kidneys? What about my liver? *sarcasm*

48."I'll always be here for you"

Nope. You won't. Especially not at 4am in the morning when I'm sobbing, trying to figure out whether I'll live to see another morning.... you're peacefully sleeping just like everyone else. 

49. "Depression is a chemical flaw/genetic damage"

Because I totally adore being told I'm damaged. Thanks, why don't you go ahead and stab me with that kitchen knife lying right over there.. it would complete the 'damaged' at any rate. 

50. "Get over it."

Stop, Just, stop talking. I'm trying as hard as I possibly can, and I don't need you to tell me to get over it, I need you to take my hand and help me get through it! 

So...there you have it...the top fifty I could think up off the top of my head!

See, these don't help. They only hurt more. I've heard every single one of these at some point in time, and they're miserable.

If you want to help, the way to help is to listen, don't try to solve everything, but just listen and love.

<3 Tirzah

A Day At the Barn ...Or My Introduction to Real Country.

"She'll get a little hay in her hair, 
      her tires in the mud, 
She's been caught in the rain, 
     and washed in the blood"
- Southern Girl (Tim McGraw) 

I couldn't tell you why, but I've always secretly wanted to be a country girl  - preferably southern, and even more preferably a cowboy.

Yes. You heard me right.

Cowboy.

(See, the problem with being a girl is that you can't be a cowboy or knight or hero or wear suits or...I could go on, but that's not what this post is really about) ;)

However, I also happen to be a bit of a diva. Just a wee bit, but enough where I wear loads of makeup and high heels and do my hair up nice and wear perfume and dance and all that jazz and my mom's called me the epitome of feminine more times than I care to count.

(Personally, I think she's mistaken, but that's just me haha).

My younger sister, on the other hand, is the classic tomboy who doesn't really care what she looks like, can beat the guys in a running race, and obsesses over - oops, adores - horses, and I love her to pieces.

The problem though with a sister like that, is that she's cast as the tomboy and I'm cast as the girly girl, and if she wears makeup or I wear camo, we are subjected to no end of teasing!

To be fair, I am a girly girl. But I also love camo and knives and guns and denim and hunting and leather and I'm not afraid of hard work or getting my hands dirty.

I just don't like deliberately looking ugly even if I'm only going to get filthy....yes, it's possible to be pretty and be covered in dirt. I haven't yet achieved it, but I'm quite sure it must be possible haha.

Y'know, I was that weird girl growing up whose dream closet included a medieval gown, a Stetson, a Civil War ball gown, pointe shoes, a Winchester, a corset, a stola, a black leather jacket, angel wings, a mermaid tail, and a suit of armor among other such contradictory things.

But, since I have a rep for being a girly girl, I'm prone to get laughed at for wearing camo or a backwards baseball cap or exhibiting interests in anything other than girly pursuits. And the one time I remember telling a girlfriend that my secret dream was to be a southern country girl, she laughed and told me I wasn't blond, couldn't talk Southern, so to suck it up cause I'd never be country.

Well, that put an end to that rather speedily, but my love for all things country never quite left.

My family could tell you stories about shelves of Westerns and the look on my face when I found a pair of gorgeous cowgirl boots for under $30 and the hours of country music they've been subjected to ;)

Suffice it to say, I adore country....always have, and I think I always shall.

And last fall when my sister started volunteering at a local barn, and asked me to volunteer along with her, my initial response was "oh gosh, no! I've no desire to be laughed out of the house!"

She chuckled and said she'd guessed as much, since she knew I liked horses, but wasn't sure I was up for mucking out stalls.

I half wish now that she'd coerced me into it initially, but a few nights ago, for some reason, we were discussing volunteer hours, and she asked again if I'd come with her today and at least give it a chance since she wanted to introduce me to the horses. Plus, a little angry birdie told me, a few months ago, that if I wished to get to know my sister better, I had best come muck stalls with her instead of trying to convince her to read books with me....which....guilty.

So, I agreed.

And boy, am I ever glad I did!

Sister bonding time, gorgeous horses, the peace and honest - to - goodness therapeutic value of being in a barn, a ride behind a tractor, country music, and the feel of the outdoors all contributed to the perfect afternoon - even if we were mucking stalls and feeding horses for most of it!

We cleaned stalls, brought the horses in, fed and watered them, and then swept the barn after we measured out food for them for the next day. It took the horses a little while to warm up to the presence of a new person, but once they did, they were awfully sweet!

Plus, I think I received one of the nicest complements anyone has ever given me -- the owner of the barn, a strong country woman who was not only old enough to be my grandmother,but grew up as a legit farm girl, watched as my sister and I walked back from the far paddock, each of us with a bucket in one hand, and as soon as we were within earshot, she chuckled and said that we looked like we belonged on a farm.

Suffice it to say, my day was officially made. ;)

And...we're headed back next week together for more of the same, and despite the smell and the flies and the messiness, I'm actually looking forward to it!

One step further to being a legit country girl ;) I just need to learn how to shoot...and fish...and hunt....and drive a tractor...hehe.

Anyhows, in all I consider today to be a complete success, and cannot wait to see what new developments are in store.

<3 Tirzah