can anybody save me from myself

He's Getting Married, But Not To You

“You look great, Harry” I smiled, fixing his tie so it could fall perfectly against his chest. As my hands smoothed out the fabric, I let my mind wander away. I couldn’t imagine how I would be knowing Harry has made a commitment to be with somebody who isn’t me forever. Just him being engaged was enough to make me cry myself to sleep some nights, asking why it couldn’t be me. Why it never could be me.
It’s like a fire in your chest that keeps burning you, telling you that you’ll never be good enough. It’s a sting in your heart that makes you realize that the person you would die for wouldn’t even think about saving you. You’re just the person that’s there, the person that they would go to when they don’t have anybody else.
“Y/n? Are you alright?” Harry giggled, bringing me out of my trance, “You’ve been staring at my tie for ten minutes”.
My cheeks flushed red as I looked down, taking my hands away from the smooth fabric while mumbling a quiet “sorry”, backing away so he can see the final look.
All the guys walked to the other side of him, catching his reaction at the man he will soon be becoming. I couldn’t bring myself to catch his reaction, knowing that the happiness that will appear on his face won’t be because of me.
“Wow” Harry breathed, running his fingertips lightly over the tie, “I’m getting married. Guys, I’m getting married!” Harry smiled, running his long fingers through his hair.
Louis went to hug him, giving him a small squeeze, his was to congratulate him. I’ve never seen the boys so excited for him, and it crushed me to know that I couldn’t even act happy for him like that. I always try to hide myself, trying to escape telling him how “happy” I was.
My eyes became glossy as I took a quick glance at Liam. He was looking at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. He had looked at me as if I had been lost and sick for months, and had no hope of ever finding my way back home.
Liam knew how madly in love I was with Harry. Liam was the only one who knew, in fact, and I wasn’t the one who had told him. Liam somehow had figured out my secret love for Harry. It was strange, knowing that one of Harry’s “brothers” knew that I, his best friend, had this huge and undoubtable love for him, but as time went on, Liam actually helped me with my problems with Harry and his fiancè Lorie, and I couldn’t thank him enough.
“I just can’t believe that in one month, I’ll be having the wife of my dreams. In one month I’ll be making a commitment to stay with her forever. Gosh, guys, I always thought that this happiness was fake, but she made it real. My gosh, I just can’t believe I’m marrying her” Harry breathed, showing off the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him—a smile I could never cause.
I felt a tear run down my face, and I quickly wipped it away, hoping none of the boys have seen it.
“Y/n? What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, taking short strides toward me.
I took a quick look at Liam, who nudged his head foward, giving me a symbol to tell him what was on my mind. I should tell him him. I should just let everything out now before it was too late, before Harry is too out of reach for me to grab onto, but I can’t, I can’t take away that precious smile he was wearing. I could never see him unhappy, I had to lie to him.
“I’m just—” I paused, taking a deep breath to collect myself, putting on a small smile to make it look like I truly ment was I was saying, “I’m just so happy for you, Harry. Growing up with you and all, I just can’t believe you had found somebody you really love. I’m so happy for you”.
Harry’s lips quivered as he smiled big, wrapping his large arms around me, giving me a strong hug, a hug that made me feel so secure, I was dreading the moment he will let go of me.
“Don’t lie, y/n” I heard a faint voice say. Harry’s head snapped up, making my body freeze completely. All the boys were looking curiously at Liam, as if they didn’t understand why he would say something like that.
I felt my heart pound and my hands start to sweat, knowing that Liam wasn’t going to end this without the truth being said.
“You love him, y/n, you can’t be happy for him. You can’t be happy at all, knowing that the love of your life is getting married. You have to go to sleep every night and cry out all that love for him because you can’t have him. You have to be there for him every god damn day, and all of your patience and all of your carefulness is being ignored. You have to compare every guy you meet to him because you want Harry. You want him and you know it. You’ve wanted him since you were fourteen, and now you have to lie? No. I’m not letting you walk around as if you didn’t have a soul anymore, y/n. Don’t prentend like you want this to happen for him”.
I let out a loud sob, making me cover my mouth in attempt to quiet myself down, but it didn’t work. I continued to sob, choking out a quiet “why would you”.
I quickly started to run away, but a large hand took ahold of mine. His thumb ran over my wrist, where old scars that had been there from when I felt like I could never be good enough for anything. Harry knew how sensitive I was about myself. I’d always say that nobody will ever love me, and he knew the now faded scars were there for that reason.
“Y/n” Harry whispered, trying to stop me from leaving.
“Let me go!” I sobbed, ripping my hand away from his and started running. Running so fast so that I could just disappear. Disappear forever.

- Day of the Wedding -

I threw on my dark purple dress. It was knee length, and wrapped perfectly around my body. My hair was in soft curls and my makeup was done nicely. I threw on a black pair of heals, and looked at myself in the mirror.
Even though Harry and I haven’t spoken since the fitting, I can’t just miss out on the biggest day of his life. This is his wedding, and if I truly loved him, I would support him every step of the way.
“Wow, I really like that dress on you” someone said through th doorway.
Liam and his fiancè stood there, with a small smile on his face, holding her hand tightly.
“Thanks” I said, giving a small smile. Liam was still the one there for me whenever I needed somebody. My views on life had gotten worse everyday, but Liam was always there to help me.
“Shall we go?” I asked, grabbing my clutch off of my bed and quickly walking passed him.
“You don’t have to do this” He mumbled, making me stop in my tracks. Tears piled in my eyes, but I shook them away. I have no reason to cry, because this is the happiest moment Harry could ever expierence, and I loved seeing that smile on his face.
“I want to. He’s my best friend. I’ll always be there for him” I comfirmed, making my way slowly to the car.
The car ride was silent, and I could tell nobody really knew what to say anymore. One wrong thing and I could break, and it was such a risk to even bring me to the church in the first place. I can’t picture him taking her hands, vowing to her that he will always love her with as much love as he can carry. Helping her when she’s sick, holding her when she’s sad, singing to her when she’s scared. I can’t picture the gold ring being slipped onto her finger as they kiss the first kiss of their marriage—I just couldn’t. It was too much, too much for me to handle.
Once we arrived at the church, Liam and his fiancè made their way out of the car. Liam looked behind his shoulder, checking on me to see if I was okay, but my body didn’t flinch. I couldn’t do anything. Breathing was difficult, and moving had seemed impossible. I started crying hyserically, hitting my forehead against the seat in front of me, hoping I’d smack some sense into me.
Why did I let myself fall for him? Why did I have to be so stupid?
I continued crying loudly, feeling as if it was the only thing I could do. My body was reacting to every thought about their future, and it seemed to be the worst reaction to anything I’ve experienced before.
There is so much pain. So much pain in my heart to move on. So much pain in the way I think that living seems so physically painful to me. How am I supposed to live without him? How am I supposed to live at all?
“I can’t do it”.
My head snapped up, looking through the open door, making my gaze meet a distraut Harry. His hair was a mess, his eyes were sad, and his tux was on on body, but he looked like he didn’t put any effort in himself at all.
“Harry, please fix yourself” I sighed, turning my body around to face him and bringing my arms up to his shirt, buttoning it up more.
“Y/n! Stop!” Harry yelled, pushing my arms away from him. My heart dropped as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. He’s mad at me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not now, not ever.
“I’ve been having doubts! I’ve been sitting in mine and Lorie’s bedroom all this time wondering if me and her getting married is even a good idea! And I never asked it! It never crossed my mind before Liam had to fucking call you out in front of the whole shop! You made me go through so much stress! You should have told me the second you felt things for me, and you know that! You’ve been ruining this for me!”
“Harry, please, I—”
“And yet I still want you!” he yelled, throwing himself against me as his lips landed perfectly on mine. My back hit softly on the seats, his chest laying perfectly against mine. My heart jumped out of my chest and I felt myself feeling happier than I ever have been, feeling his lips sync with mine, and feeling his fingertips dance along my waist, but I knew this wasn’t right. I’m not this kind of person, and I can’t make Lorie find out about this.
“Harry, this is out of pitty. Harry, Marry her” I whispered.
“Shut up. Just shut up. It’s you. You. I want you. Nobody else. Absolutely nobody. I was just so stupid to even realize what was in front of me. I never looked straight ahead. I always just looked around, and it made me so blind, y/n, because the way I felt just now, kissing you like that, made me feel like I could never die. I felt so infinite, y/n. I was just so blind. So damn blind” he mumbled again, kissing me, the way I had always pictured it.
His lips detatched from mine, running his thumb over my now swollen lips. He looked at them, so confused and hurtful, making everything come to a hault.
“How did I live so long without loving you like this?”

“Can anybody out there hear me?
‘Cause I can’t seem to hear myself
Can anybody out there see me?
'Cause I can’t seem to see myself
There’s gotta be a heaven somewhere
Can you save me from this hell?
Can anybody out there feel me?
'Cause I can’t seem to feel myself”
- “Losing My Way” by Justin Timberlake

To the guy I will love next,

Please understand that you’re going to handle a girl who’s not in a perfect condition. You will meet me and maybe you think I am whole outside - but there’s actually gonna be a lot of repairs I need inside me.

I gave rightful love to people I thought would give back what I made them feel. I have been lied on, dumped, hurt and numerously cried over my pillow every night.
I want to remind you, that I may still be partly lost when you will have me. In fact, I don’t even know if I’m still lovable. I will be complicated sometimes. I will be hard on you. I know you will struggle on making me believe that you will not be like anybody else. And I’m already sorry for that, now.

I don’t need a superhero or even a knight in shining armor. Because of all these chaos I went through - I have already learned how to save myself.

Regardless on all these uncertainties, I promise to love you in every way, as long as I can. There’s nothing much I have to require from you. And I hope this will assure you to stay for a long time because no one has done that yet.

I am excited to finally meet you and feel as if I’ve never been in pain.
I am excited to be happy again without getting worried if am I still gonna wake up in the morning holding you. My tummy is ready to harbor butterflies as you tell me how much you love me and when you hug me everytime. I am excited to make you happy as well, be contented and make you feel loved more than anyone could. I am excited to listen to your heartbeat and listen to the rhythm of your breath or smell the scent you leave on my blanket. I am excited to watch my favorite cartoons with you, and eat my favorite ice cream flavor with you.
You will be the first person I tell how my day went, my rants and my opinions over things. You will be everything to me, as I am to you.

I will love you unconditionally regardless of the times I have told myself that I’m not going to love anyone else anymore

To you, who I will love next - you will be my last.

Love,
The girl you will love next

Today, the heart

Three months ago I tried killing myself. I wish there were a more ambiguous way to phrase this to myself or anybody else, but there isn’t.  No euphemism can be umbrella enough to shield me from the onslaught of my own mental monsoon.I tried to end my life because I was tired. That is what I kept repeating like glossolalia even when I was saved - I am tired, let me go. I am tired. That is what I believed in that feral trance - I was moving elsewhere, to another beginning. It wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction or sudden, backfired tangent of psychosis - it was just a curtain pull on a long and spiritually exhausting 20 some years of being dealt the most inexplicably arcane cards by whichever hand that served as ventriloquist to my fate. Fate was always an absurd spiel in my eyes. I am a social scientist, my cognition is designed to rescind the colloquial joo joo of destiny et al, but here I was thoroughly defeated in the throes of the wheel of fortune that was treating me like a prisoner decreed to some form of medieval torture. So, I decided to lavish enough violence on myself and silence the metronome wheezing inside my ribcage.

No, it wasn’t sudden, it wasn’t without a considerable battle with myself, angling for every resource available to prevent this self-destruction; my own le diable a quatre. In due course I realised that there are a lot of reservoirs available to balm this famine, this complete starvation of the soul and each person, each helpline did its best to harbour my broken ship but it was almost that everything someone said about the positivity of life, I felt more and more determined to end my own. It didn’t help to remind me that my mother would be devastated at seeing my dead body or that I had so much potential to be a tour de force. It came to a point where the more I was informed of my great innate ability for survival, the more I wanted to avoid the person who said it. No one understood that I wasn’t capable of assessing my worth in the infinite realm of a future me when the present, current me could not stop staring at every fan solely with the intention of calculating if it could heft my body weight. Everyone said, you will get better tomorrow. No one said,you are enough today.

Social consciousness has secured the bidding of suicide as morally criminal but unfortunately those who proselytize don’t know that at the moment of contemplating a blade to the wrist or wetting your throat for a vial of multi-colored pilled, no one is capable of principled decision-making. Much as I loathe to reference DFW in a post about suicide, the starkest reasoning for it is in fact by him -

“The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of ‘hopelessness’ or any abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom Its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from the window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e. the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘Don’t!’ and ‘Hang on!’, can understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to have personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”

Depression has been my most faithful bedmate for as long as I can remember. We are the commonest of trigger warnings, says a friend and group therapy companion. The first time I read this paragraph, I felt like someone has slowly entered a knife through my jugular - all that was unspoken inside of me was bleeding from a thick, blackish red mouth of the wound. I have felt like a walking wound since I was a child. Most of my childhood was a heavy-accented slur. I have a thinly veiled recollection of abuse; sometimes there are auditory hallucinations, sometimes my spine is a scroll of cold shivers imagining the dogged, cutthroat hand emerging from the dark like an optical illusion. Somehow  I have survived my childhood and this in turn makes me distrust the ideal of survival because I am covered in the scars of survival. It depends on what you see when you look at a scar - a place where the harm ended itself or a place where the healing began. But either ways, you are still standing in the shadow of hurt, and sometimes I don’t want to be healed, I want to be undone of the hurt. You would understand the difference if you lived with the same guilt as I do towards my own body.

When I was a child, I desperately wanted to get cancer. As revolting as it sounds, I had watched a girl in my class get leukemia and she was moved to an oncology specialising hospital. Her father would always be by her side when we visited her and I somehow deduced that if I too suffered from something life-threatening, maybe my father would come and take me away from the homemade hell that was running through me. I didn’t get cancer, the classmate eventually died & my father never really came for me. But I somehow latched onto the eager hands of a deathwish that seemed more accepting of me than any adult around me.

When I self harm/ed, I graduated very quickly from razors to my own fists. Cutting wasn’t painful enough so I proceeded to choking. I would hit myself till I was unconscious and it was surprising how so little of it registered with anyone around me. Or maybe they knew but decided not to understand it. If the ostrich buries its head in the sand and you know the drill. I don’t think anyone can damage us quite the way we can do it to ourselves. God may or may not have been created in our image but violence is - it sits down for breakfast with us, it comes to the movies with us, it rocks our chair to sleep, and finally it handed me my nylon rope.

Every time I made a more institutionalized attempt to fix this scale of alienation, I felt more abandoned. The most debilitating part comes after you survive because everything in suicide help is poised for prevention but hardly for post-survival. So you weathered the earthquake, but what do you do with a decade worth of after-shocks? No one can spell that out with a trustworthy clarity.

I don’t speak for a tribe, nor do I particularly enjoy transforming myself into the foghorn of any mouthpiece so I want to stray from the compulsive nomenclature, the cloaking, the closeting of an illness that is always in sharp disagreement with my life impulses. I can label it mental difference, I can typecast it as neurodivergence but none of it can effectively help my desire to drown myself in a dingy bathtub while everyone outside the room is celebrating my new book or my new degree. I don’t know what words should I spool so they cal thread themselves into each other to form a net wide enough to catch the blind trapeze artist my mind transforms into during these hours.

One of the hardest things is to travel back in time and suddenly encounter a moment of realisation where some grave violation of my sense of self occurred and I was so convinced of my worthlessness, I became complicit in that act of assault towards me. At 20 a boyfriend tried to rape me and I had no memory of this till a recent therapy session. Maybe because I am conditioned to think of rape as a very evident scream, a sort of “obvious” violence whereas the incident was far more slyly controlled, insidious as its composed mastermind. I also admitted to myself that I almost convinced myself that I was deserving of this aggression because for so long my depression had emptied me into an effigy to the extent that I stopped viewing myself as a human being anymore. 

That is how raw it gets. It digs its teeth into your eyes and you can’t see who you are anymore. There is nothing uplifting I can end this with except to say that - Is there a way to find what comes after survival? How do you survive survival? Is there a way to tell us not about what it will be but what it is now? People want to help and it is a sharp paradox, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I know they meant well when they said - “hey I too feel sad sometimes” and all I wanted to say was - I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel anything. Don’t you see that is the reason I want to end?

But all I can say now is - persevere, self. There is a beautiful somewhere. You are just about reaching.

#please do speech pattern analysis on all the rwbies

Ok JNPR is next

Gee, Jaune? Hoo hoo boy, Jaune…. well y'see, Jaune can’t make declarative statements to save his life! Is your original thought but then he swings in with a BOOM! Ha ha! Didn’t expect that, didja? That’s what you get for underestimating me! Only to turn back to this roundabout aw shucks gee whiz whoa wow! I’m kinda shy and this is making me uncomfortable! And honestly… I… kind of underestimate myself a lot, too. Maybe more than anybody else. In bitingly relatable moments that are genuinely cries for help from a low self esteem and a crippling desire for the esteem of others. A-anyway, he can be strong when he needs to be! But geeeeeenerally he has a sorta wheedling tone??? In a way that’s almost sarcastic. Jaune’s tone of voice is like Sarcasm’s self deprecating scrawny little brother who nobody cares about, anyway. Or that’s just how he feels. …whatever.

Pyrrha, as most of you know, talks with a regal, almost detached tone. She’ll use contractions and says “don’t” instead of “do not”, but you feel like it wouldn’t be out of character for her to do so. You can hear an almost robotic politeness propping up her words, like the stiff set of her spine. However, it’s an erroneous and unfortunately common mistake to assume her formal speech patterns indicate she is a cold, or emotionless girl. She’s intimately involved with your emotions and desires harmony within her social circles. She’s also got a sharp tongue and a will to use it. If you can’t discern this much about her personality, rather than rely on your rude, half-baked assumptions perhaps you should consider taking up a different craft than writing. Perhaps something that doesn’t require a discerning eye.

NORA is ready to go 100% of the time. What’s happening? Where are we going? WHO KNOWS, WHO CARES, I’M GONNA GO DO IT THOUGH. Second guessing is for wimps! And Nora sure as heck is not a wimp! No up talking here, everything wouldn’t look out of place with an exclamation point though! Or maybe two!! GASP OH MY GOSH BUT THIS IDEA JUST OCCURRED TO HER AND IT’S SO EXCITING SHE HAS TO BLURT IT OUT– ARE YOU READY FOR THIS– WHAT ABOUT *THREE* EXCLAMATION POINTS!!! Has anyone done that before? Am I the first one to think of this? Ren!! Ren, look what I just thought of, isn’t it the BUSINESS?

Ren doesn’t talk much.

He’s not shy, he just doesn’t have much to say.

I can’t tell if this is because of lack of character development or not.

I imagine long breaks between his rare statements.

…..

…That’s it.

2

Okay so I’m making light of being told to kill myself, but for some people that could mean so much. This person knows who they are, and I can quite easily broadcast their URL to nearly 60,000 people, but I’m not that person. Saved your ass. Anyway, don’t you dare tell someone to drop dead. I don’t care if you have an issue with them or not. The fact that I’m saving you from getting hate is loyal enough of me, and I’d just like to put out there that if anybody thinks about sending something horrible to somebody, think about how much it can effect them, and how it will effect you when it’s you that’s responsible. So, to this cruel human, you’re welcome for not publicly embarrassing you. But literally fuck you.

Sincerely Your Homie

Commander’s Girl, Part 1 (Poe Dameron x Reader)

So guess what movie I just saw recently! Yeah. This is gonna have 5-6 parts, I wrote a lot more details than I meant to.

Years before the events of The Force Awakens, you’re a young woman running the orphanage she grew up in, trying to keep your kids safe as the First Order lays siege to your city. Poe Dameron turns up and changes your life, but you’re separated before he can help you escape from your conquered planet. Years later, you’ll find yourselves working together again.

You adjusted the scarf covering your face and turned down another back alley. The First Order had spent nearly two weeks trying to conquer your city, and every day your venture to get food and information grew more and more dangerous. Flames glowed in the night sky from the western docks of the city—you’d heard that some of the city’s workers chose to burn their factories rather than let the Order take them. Every night you heard screaming and blaster fire. More troubling to you, however, was the whispered rumor about what the Order was doing with the children of the areas it had already conquered. 

On your way back from a scavenging trip, coming up from a tunnel into an alley at 3 in the morning, your heart stopped. You could hear two men coming down the intersecting alley. You were too close to run back the other way, and they’d see you any second now. Pressing yourself against the wall, you held your breath and prayed that they were distracted. But they stopped walking just before they came into view, and you heard something slide to the ground.

“That’s what I get for taking a pilot on a ground mission,” one of them grunted. He was clearly in pain.

“Hey, it was your idea. Stop trying to get up, that won’t heal it any faster,” the other said.

“Staying out here won’t keep us alive longer,” the injured one retorted. “They come around every hour on the hour. We have ten minutes to find cover and we’re nowhere near the others.” They were talking about the patrolling Stormtroopers. Every hour on the hour, like clockwork. You’d told the children to stay away from the windows when they passed.

“Just play dumb. They’ll mistake us for civilians.”

“You think they don’t kill civilians too?”

“You’re with the Resistance,” you said, stepping out into view. Both men looked up sharply. One of them, a middle-aged man with short hair and what you could only describe as hawk eyes, was propped up against the wall, holding his hand to his side. The other, a little younger, with messy dark hair and big brown eyes, was bent over him.

Keep reading

6

I normally wouldn’t because I don’t trust a lot of people but taylorswift is someone I trust along with all you other Swifties who follow me so here it goes:
October 1st,2003 I lost someone at the age of just 9 that I never thought I’d lose when I was so young. Someone who would later in life be my best friend,my shoulder to cry on,someone to do my hair for my high school prom,my wonderful mom.,Edna Mae who lost her battle to breast cancer at 5:30AM October 1st. After she died I went into severe depression and still have depression to this day.Nothing could cheer me up I was a wreck emotionally and mentally,“why did my mom have to die?” is all that I could ask myself.
Music was always a release for me,but for 4 years it didn’t do much for me, until I discovered taylorswift . Little did I know that a young girl who sang a song called “Tim McGraw” who opened for George Strait and Ronnie Milsap would become my greatest hero and influence.
January 2007 I saw taylorswift for the first time and I fell in automatic love with her then and there. They announced that after the show she would stay and sign autographs for as many people who would stay as she could. I remember tugging on my dads arm and begging
him to let me stay, finally after begging and
begging he gave in and let me meet her. She was so so so sweet signed everything I had in my purse. Took like 4 pictures with me and then stayed and did an acoustic version of “Tim McGraw” for those of us that we’re left in line that night.
As if losing my mom wasn’t bad enough I was bullied all throughout school for being over weight and for being the socially awkward person who would basically keep to herself because the bullying was too much for someone so young to handle. Come high school things just seemed to keep getting worse but taylorswift was the person and the music I kept turning back to. As a freshman in high school I went through a lot. I fell in love for the first time only to find out after the break up the guy would later rape me not once but twice and that he would get deported the night
before trial to save money for the county and told of he ever went back he would be in big trouble,sadly he came back but the court and police didn’t do anything. With that my dad found a children’s home in portales, New Mexico that had a single parent program and my dad could have the cost of living and utilities paid,so we moved from Oregon where I’d loved my whole life to New Mexico who I knew nobody. It was hard but once again taylorswift music got my through it. In high school in portales I was the outcast once again except this time it was different the violence in the school was so bad that I would get death threats from people I didn’t even know.With that my dad found a preaching job in fort sumner, New Mexico. I started back in high school and fell in love once again and got my heart broken.That was the worst heart break I’d ever had and my depression got worse I was in and out of the hospital for suicidal evaluation 3 times in one month before my dad and I agreed that I would go to an all girls home in Wichita,Kansas and try to get back on track.
A couple days I was supposed to leave for Wichita I got a text from a really good guy friend in Oregon named Forest, I’ve grown up with Forest’s family, his sister is still my best friend,anyways, he sent me a text that said “Something is telling me that I needed to tell you I love you,I’ll always love you and even though we’re miles apart you’ll always be in my heart” little did we know that the very next day he would get into a tragic skateboarding accident and die 3 hours before he was to graduate.Once again depression kicked in but taylorswift music helped me through that pain and all through the time I was in Wichita. I got home three months later from Witchita and another really good friend of mine from Fort Sumner was killed in another accident at the age of just 16. Safe to say senior year was very very hard on me having lost two of the best guy friends someone could have. Senior year was rough I was very sick most of senior year and we never did know why. So I got tested by my doctor for many things,the tests came back and I was told that at the age of just 17 I had type 2
diabetes. I spent half of senior year sick as sick could be with blood sugars out of whack and too high or even too low. I spent countless nights in the hospital(that I’m still paying for to this day) hooked up to IV machines and catheters on the verge of death because my sugar was so high.Once again in that hard trial taylorswift music helped me out.
It got down to time to graduate and I almost was not able to graduate due to the amount of sick days I spent in the hospital all throughout senior year.I spent a month working my butt of running on three to four hours of sleep in a month but it was worth it because I walked across that stage and got my diploma. That summer I started college in Oklahoma at Oklahoma Christian Univeristy, I was there about a month before my diabetes got way worse again and I had to withdraw and come
home with blood sugars over 1,000 when I got home my depression got worse all over again and I attempted suicide several times because I was done I was tired of being sick and tired of feeling so bad all the time (now most people don’t think diabetes is a very serious disease but sadly it is, if not cared for properly one can lose their arms,legs,vision,and even kidneys will start to fail.) It’s been in my moments of sickness with my blood sugars being too high or too low and in my times of dispairity when I’ve just wanted to end it all that taylorswift music was here for me. I look back and think about how far I’ve come since I met her in 2007 and how much I’ve been through and it makes me smile,cry,and laugh.I’ve gone through a lot and made a lot of stupid mistakes but I’ve come out to where I am today. I still have depression and yes I still have times where I just want to kill myself still because I don’t think anybody would notice or care, but that’s when I turn to taylorswift music to help me out and to cheer me up, that’s when I write long blogs about how she’s saved my life over and over again so that taylorswift knows how greatful I am for her and her music. I keep telling myself I’ll have the opportunity to tell taylorswift thank you in person but it wasn’t happened yet, and I doubt it will which is why I’m blogging this so I can give taylorswift a proper thank you even though it isn’t face to face.
So miss taylorswift thank you from the
bottom of my heart for being who you are and inspiring me each and every day to be a bigger and stronger individual. To keep on fighting even when things get hard.
I spent three days in the hospital this past week on seperate days because of my diabetes,but it’s been taylorswift music that’s kept me going,it’s been her music that’s kept me fighting and it’s her music that has reminded that suicide isn’t the answer,her music that taught me that things will get hard but you have to go through a few rainstorms to get the rainbow,it feels like the rainbow is taking forever to get here but it’s worth the wait knowing I have taylorswift music and her tumblr posts to turn to in my time of desperation.
Taylor’s the reason I keep fighting and I just want her to know that so so badly. I just want her to know that I love her so very much for her music and for being herself and showing me how a woman ought to deal with the pain she goes through and the trials.
The other day we celebrated Forest’s 4 years of being gone from this planet but it gives me peace knowing him and Colten and my mom are all up there together celebrating. It also gives me leaves knowing that when people in Oregon go to visit Forest’s grave they can also visit my mom’s grave because that was Forest’s dying wish was to be buried close to my mom,now they are buried within 10 feet of each other.
and it keeps me going knowing that I still have ways to get my message of thanks to taylorswift
Thank you taylorswift for being a light at the end of a tunnel I never though I would ever get through.Without your music and your attitude and everything you do for fans it would be hard for me to get through my trials. You saved my life many times, from suicide,and for that I will forever be greatful that you’re a person on this planet in this world at that. Suicide is never the answer,and taylorswift has taught me that repeatedly things get hard but taylorswift is my
hero, my life save, an angel. I love you taylorswift more than you’ll ever imagine.Thank you for being my hero and inspiration for giving me a reason to keep fighting in this cruel world or hurt and pain.
I will forever be greatful for that and I will never “shake it off” until you’ve seen my story and you know my story and how you’ve saved my
life.
Love you always,
Meagan Shotwell

Ps:
it’s amazing how one person can change your entire life in the midst of a minute or 5 minutes or even 30 minutes. Little did I know In 2007 when I met taylorswift that all of that bad stuff that happened to me would happen and little did I know that it would be her music that kept me going and kept me fighting and hanging on.

  1. I’ve been holding on to that past for a very long time. Yes, I am, and that’s what stopped me from being free and from experiencing the happiness that the “present” is giving me from day in and day out. I’ve been so stubborn that I didn’t let go of the past and the feelings that I have for you. And those were the reasons for my pain. I always look back even if what happened was long gone. I keep on reminiscing the past even if I know by heart that I can no longer go back there. I’ve been holding on to what happened three years ago that I barely see what the three years ahead gave me. I know I should be sorry for myself and I am very sorry for myself. Holding on to the past stole my present and my future. And it’s a sad thing to know that I let it happened.
  2. I always say that I cannot be truly happy without you even if I know I can. I know that you don’t hold my happiness and that happiness is a choice I have to make. But what I did was to let this sadness hold me every moment of my life. I did not give myself the happiness it deserves because I’ve been living in the dramas that I am used to. And whenever happiness pass by, I drove it away simply because I don’t want to be happy without you. And that’s very foolish of me. I stole the happiness from myself. It is right there in front of me but I just keep on walking away from it because I want happiness with you. I’ve been running away from this happiness because I’ve been chasing for you for a very long time. And it is very unfair. I did not let myself to be happy because of my choice. These were the not-so-good choices I made because I’ve been blind for a long time.
  3. I took care of the pain in my heart instead of healing my heart. I let the pain ate me and changed me. I let it ruled my life. I let it ate who I am. I’ve been very blind that I chose not to see that I can move on and that I can be okay. I let myself cry all night even if I’ve been crying for the same reasons for a very long time. I hurt myself with the memories that we had. I chained myself and I locked myself inside a box hoping that one day you will save me even though I know you won’t. I almost killed myself from giving all these hurts and pains. And the funny thing is the person to blame is me. I caused all these things to myself. There’s no way I can blame you or even my family or my friends or anybody because I did this to myself. And that’s the worst harm that I gave to myself.
  4. I’ve been very unfair to myself. This sums up everything. I hold on to what’s gone for a very long time, I didn’t let myself to be happy and I brought pain to myself. Why? Because the past made me feel that I am this person who does not deserve anything in this world. I’ve been very hard to myself. I don’t see myself the way I see others. I don’t understand myself the way I am supposed to. Very unfair of me, right? I know. And I hate myself for doing such things like these. I hate myself for being the antagonist in the life that I have. But no matter what happened, I have to forgive myself. And I know I will. Because…
  5. This is the start of something beautiful. I’ve moved on. I let go of the past, of the memories that we shared, of the feelings that I have for you. I no longer see you as the love of my life. I see you as somebody who taught me a lot of things, somebody who made me stronger and who made me a better person, somebody who is wiser and happier. I can see you now as a friend without having to be bitter with what happened. I am giving myself the happiness it deserves. I pamper myself with the simplest of things that can make me smile. I am happy in the truest possible way. I realized that it feels really good when I don’t fake anything and when I don’t hide anything. That’s the best happiness, so far. And I am healing my heart. I don’t hurt myself with listening to sad songs and thinking of sad thoughts. Faith and happiness, those two are my medications. And my doctor? Him, my Father. He’s the best doctor, I must say. Indeed, this is the start of something beautiful.