Something New (TVD)

Very Important Author's Note

**(A/N: I know I've already been pretty M.I.A. when it comes to posting more of this story, but I think I need to take a step back for a little bit. I will definitely still be posting more chapters, but they may be slow to be updated because I think it's for the best that I dip back in to my old interests and possibly trying new ones to figure myself out.

I love reading and I love writing, at first because I loved the adventure and getting so lost in the stories I'd feel like I was experiencing it myself, or getting so close to the characters that they either felt like family or friends or an extension of myself; but then it quickly became an escape, a relief from the things I was going through. Reading/writing for me became like how drugs are to somebody else. An addiction; something you use to numb the pain, the grief, the loneliness, the guilt, the anger, the confusion, the betrayal, the anxiety, the fear, the desperation, the despair and heartbreak, and to stop from feeling so overwhelmed. At first, it worked, but over time when I became dependent on it and I started sinking so far in to it, I became lost and it actually started to somewhat contribute to all of those other feelings I was trying to avoid, and I started to neglect a lot of other things that it started to feel like I was being held back.

I love writing, it allows me to express myself (especially in self-inserts/reincarnation/transmigration stories because I can fully or almost fully put down everything I've gone through and express the way it effected me/makes me feel through that of my character, which I can't do in real life because I can't afford therapy -- why I may seem to repeat some of the background theme to many of my original characters, sorry. Even if I went to therapy, I wouldn't trust the therapist to not just be there because of the money that they don't actually care to really help or understand, nor would I trust that they wouldn't use the information to hurt me or betray me somehow. And, I can't discuss it with anyone, even relatives, because trying to explain it just makes me feel like screaming and breaking shit and breaking down crying because it's overwhelming and frustrating and humiliating and terrifying that I get flustered and frustrated especially because I KNOW the people around me will not just LISTEN and instead turn it into an argument and try to make it seem like everything I'd gone through and am still dealing with doesn't matter and can and should've just been brushed off. I also know I am an incredibly sensitive person, and I've bottled up SO MUCH that when I uncover just the TEENIEST sliver of what I'm thinking or feeling, I cry HARD, which just pisses me off because it makes me terrified showing that it makes me feel weak and vulnerable that it's humiliating showing that.). And, although writing is an outlet for me in so many ways, I need to stop being so codependent on it and try to get back to myself.

I've become so dependent on escaping through the stories I read and write, that it feels like I've found myself in a tar pit or quicksand. It's just been really effecting my mental health in a negative way for a while now that it's starting to really scare me because it feels like any moment now, I'll be pulling a Hannah Baker from 13 Reasons Why -- which I almost did last year; like, there was a full on attempt at it. It's not actually as easy as people try to make it seem, I'll tell you; just as the DECISION ITSELF is an INCREDIBLY hard one to make. I HATE feeling that way, and I don't fully know if it's what I want. I NEED to get back to the other things I used to enjoy: cooking/baking from scratch, gaming, exercising (except no running, I stop breathing as soon as I try to even do a light jog), kickboxing/learning other styles of fighting. I'm also trying to dip in to new hobbies, like gardening (right now, I have some fruits/vegetables and some herbs going, but I'm thinking of trying to expand that at some point). I also want to go to thrift stores and make new outfits from what I get and maybe sell them if I don't decide to keep them for myself because I've always loved fashion. I NEED to get back to these things/explore these new interests and I NEED to find who I am now, and I NEED to find something for myself that I can see myself doing that won't make me miserable but will still pay me enough to live comfortably/still do the other things I enjoy or want to try.

Again, I'll still be publishing for this story, but it'll be really slow as I try to figure everything out.

Thank you for all of the support and love on this story so far, you have no idea how much it means to me that there's even 1 person that enjoys something I put out there that is/feels like an extension of myself. And, thank you for all of the patience you've given for this story so far, I know it's been like pulling teeth to get new chapters for it thus far, I'm sorry.

Until next chapter!)**