Hi everyone, this is Olivia, the author.
If there's anyone who actually pays attention to how often I upload, you'll notice that I haven't in a while, and I'll explain why.
Now this isn't to get people to feel bad for me, and it isn't to make it seem like I'm someone who needs your attention. This is just so some people out there can understand me a little bit better, and maybe understand themselves some too.
I was diagnosed with a panic disorder and anxiety at a local therapist's office recently. I have no idea what the statistics are for these illnesses, but it only took my therapist a twenty minute conversation with me to puzzle together exactly what was making my life so confusing and scary.
Essentially, I am a ball of nerves. Darkness scares me, loud noises scare me, doors scare me, being alone scares me, even my own house scares me. So many normal day-to-day things scare me that I have slowly been going crazy for the past three years. I struggle to sleep, and I struggle to communicate with people, especially with my friends, without seeming like a total wuss.
There's a lot that goes into my personality. For the longest time, I thought that I was just childish and immature for being scared of every single thing in my path. But now that I finally have answers, I feel somewhat disgusted with myself, for being so rude to me, the only me I can be, for years and years. I developed a perfection complex along the way, because of course if I'm not perfect and I don't get straight A's and if I don't find love and if I don't get at least a 30 on the ACTs, then I must be a bad person right? Anyone else can do those things, but if I don't live up to my expectations then I simply can't live.
I know this whole chapter has seemed like a downer. You know have peered into my brain which hates me so much for no good reason, and what for? I know most people haven't read to here, but for the person who has, let me tell you something. If you have ever been to the depths of your own mind with grief, guilt depression, heartache, just know that I have too. I'm a random person probably hundreds of miles away, and I understand. If you've given yourself scars because you couldn't handle your own mental pain, just know that I have too.
I'm sorry. My heart aches for you more than you know. My therapist said that's one of my flaws, that I always try to fix things and I'm a human doormat for other's woes. But right now I'm glad that I can do that. If you're reading this and you know my pain and you need someone, I am here. I can talk to you. Any time.
I was having an episode of fear tonight. I looked into the darkest corner of my room, imagined something sinister, and couldn't shake it. So I came on here and read your comments. All of the ones that made me smile on days past, and all of the new ones. They killed the demon in the corner of my room, and I want to help kill yours, even if just for a moment.
Finally, this is a dumb book. It's a dumb book about an amazing show that I started to ease my summer boredom all those months ago. This book is over a year old, and people still come back. I know that I might be taking myself too seriously by writing this chapter out. I know that a lot of people will skip over it cause "I just wanna see some fluff." But in all honesty, this chapter is a break from my goofy and inappropriate scenarios I would normally write. I am currently writing this at 2:27 in the god damn morning because this is so important to me.
Thanks for reading. -Liv💙
