BRAND NEW: What’s going on NOW?

*Trigger Warning*

This post has been delayed for a few weeks because of how hard it is to put my current state of mind into words in a completely honest fashion. The last post in this series, “BRAND NEW”, was dedicated to what got me spiraling out of control again and collapsing into a state of relapse. This post is completely dedicated about what I am going through now, and how my new recovery is affecting me.

 

I’ve always had trouble adjusting to new things, simply because I grow anxious when I have to change my patterns and go outside of my typical comfort zone. So when it finally fit me that I was moving to college, my anxiety shot through the roof. As previously mentioned, moving to college was a huge ordeal for me, and making friends was so incredibly difficult for me. However, in a way, this was a distraction from some of the other pain that I was fighting through, because I was more focused on fitting in, just like in high school. Now, this has completely changed. I have a fabulous group of friends and support system that I love more than words can describe. Nonetheless, this has caused my mind to really focus on the roots of my anxiety and depression. Over the winter break, I confessed to my mother that I needed help. I needed to talk to my old therapist and try to form words about the storm that has been trolling constantly in my head for so long without me saying a word about it.. The great thing about my mother is how loving and accepting she is; she called my therapist within the blink of an eye and had me an appointment for the next week. I sat that week over break and wondered what the hell I was going to say to her and how the fuck I was going to describe the turmoil that was rampaging through me body at every waking moment of every day. The morning finally came where I had my appointment with my therapist and my mind and heart were racing at a million miles an hour on the car ride there. I sat down on the couch in her office and I made some small talk for a minute. She quickly cut me off and said, “Josh, I haven’t seen you in 2 years, so what the hell is going on that made you run back here?” My heart nearly stopped.

 

I kept walking around the truth of what was really going on in my life. She cut me off yet again and quickly told me that lying to her was pointless because she knew every single excuse that I had in my book. She was asking questions about my triggers, and if I had the temptation to cut and purge in the present. I lied. I told her no. When in my mind, I was thinking about my true answer; how I wanted to, more than anything, to make fresh cuts on my skin and be reminded of the pleasurable pain that used to grace my skin daily. How I felt like I was gaining weight and the easiest way out was to throw up everything that I eat instead of exercising like a healthy and logical person does. However, the brilliant woman that she is could probably see through the lies that I was weaving in that session. I talked for about 30 minutes without her saying a word, she just listened – she replied to my massive monologue with just one sentence: “Josh, you’re clinically depressed and have extreme anxiety, I don’t know why you keep avoiding this.” I sat there, stunned in silence. About 3 years ago, I was prescribed to an anti-depressant called Wellbutrin, which made my moods a lot better but had intense side effects such as vomiting that I just couldn’t deal with. So after about 4 months on this medication, I threw the bottle away and was determined that I wasn’t depressed anymore, that I didn’t have anxiety any longer, and that I could fight off any of my problems on my own (but we all know how far I got with this and how many times I have told myself this in the past).

 

I began talking to her about how I finally understood that I probably was clinically depressed and had an intense amount of anxiety that handicapped some of my every day life. She finally asked the crippling question that I had been dreading so much: “So, how do you feel about trying some medication again, Josh?”, my heart absolutely sank. For any of you the have read my blog in the past of follow me on basically any form of social media, you know how much I talk about reaching out for help when you need it. You can also conclude from my blog and social media that I seldom follow my own advice, a lethal trait. I don’t like to ask others for help, and I certainly didn’t want the help of medication again. However, with the urge to draw blood from my body and let it drop on the floor, and with the urge to leave my meals in a porcelain bowl, I felt as if I didn’t have any other options. So the next day, I picked up a prescription for a new anti-depressant that was also supposed to calm my nerves and help to deal with the effects of my anxiety. I felt embarrassed asking for help, I felt like I had failed on my own,, that I was letting everyone down, little did I know that medicine could be the best thing to make people be proud of the progress I could make while prescribed.

 

So here I am typing you this blog about 2 weeks into my medication and wondering if I was going to start feeling better. I didn’t think anything was working until today… I was rejected from my dream job at a place I have gone to for my entire life. I longed for this job more than just about anything I ever have. I had prepared for the worst, knowing that I was probably going to fall apart if something like being rejected happened. I was ready to go to war with myself yet again. However, when I got the news that I didn’t get the job, I cried for a bit, and then I started to laugh and smile. I started to think about all of the possibilities that could take the place of the job until I reapplied the next year, and all the places that I could go and the people I could meet. For the first time in my life, rejection felt like it had purpose; and for the first time in so many years, I felt like I understood what God (Refer to some old blog posts on God and you will see to clear struggle that the two of us have had over the past several years) wanted me to do. I firsthand saw God today, in the oddest of places – in rejection. Today I felt like I understood God’s plan and I didn’t fall apart at the sight of rejection. Is it the medicine that gave me this optimism? Or was it just a strike of luck? I was so used to dogging on myself and hating myself more and more when rejection happened. However, I put my all into the things that I attempt. I may fail several times, but I always put maximum effort. I did the best that I could, and me getting this job just wasn’t in the cards. God wasn’t ready to deal me that hand, and until he his, I’ll play the hand he thought was best for the present time. 

 

“BRAND NEW” is all about telling the past, present, and future of my new recovery. This post was dedicated to my present, where I am, and what I’m experiencing through my new recovery. I opened my world to you completely raw and unedited. I would love to hear the experiences you have had with medication to deal with mental illness. Today, I am happy, for I feel that this medicine could actually be working with me to find a route to happiness. I am becoming brand new, a brand new Josh, and a brand new form of confidence and commitment.

 

I would love to hear from you, truly.

Send me an email at Jshepherd637@gmail.com

Or reach out to me on the following social media sites!

Twitter

Tumblr

Facebook

 

(P.S – Stay tuned for the finale post of “BRAND NEW” and several new posts coming in January and February 2016!)

J.B.S. 1/05/2016

Joshua? It’s God…

 I crave God. I crave salvation. I crave acceptance. I crave normalcy. I crave connection. I crave to understand. Unfortunately, my cravings are not satisfied. All of my cravings seem to be centered around God and the lack of relationship I continue to NOT have with him. I’ve spent the majority of my teenaged years fighting against religion and those who have a passionate connection with it. Ironically enough, the only thing my heart truly craves is a vivacious connection to one, specifically Christianity.

For those who have been reading for a while, you have had more than enough insight to understand my story and the struggles that have existed within it. Throughout my struggles with depression, anxiety, self-harm, and eating disorders, I have never thought to place the blame upon myself; God has always been what I like to call, “The Younger Sibling” for me, that person I can place all the blame on, although completely innocent. It’s has always been so easy to just lay in my bed and sob big, whooping tears into my pillow and shout out, “Why Me?” “What have I ever done to you, God?” “Why are you picking on me?”. No doubt about it, I can’t control the fact that I was diagnosed with Clinical Depression and Anxiety, but I can control how I handle the aftermath and the issues that come along with them. I would slice my writs, and while blood was flowing from my skin and veins, I would stare at the ceiling and question God, blame God, and not once looking at the situation that I HAD CREATED, only looking for someone, or something else to blame it on.

I’m sure someone reading this feels the same, probably with a different situation, but still the same. Your boyfriend has broken up with you, “Why Me, God?”. Your mother has been diagnosed with cancer, “What has my family ever done to you, God?”, or you just can’t seem to find happiness in your life that is gifted with so many possibilities, “Why are you doing this to me, God?”.  It’s taken me longer than I’m comfortable to admit to come to the conclusion that God isn’t punishing us, he isn’t trying to destroy us – all God is trying to do is teach us, nurture us with knowledge, and to help us grow with experience. The difficult aspects of this is that sometimes these lessons affect us in ways that hurt us, make us cry, make our stomachs twist into a thousand knots while we grasp onto them for dear life… but it isn’t to tear us down.

Each and every summer, since I was a rising 1st grader, I’ve attended Camp Mikell, an Episcopalian Church Camp. Every week that I spend there, whether I am a camper or a counselor, I feel close to God, something that is unrecognizable for me otherwise while I am at home.  I tell myself constantly that when I return home after that week at Camp Mikell ended that I would continue this relationship with God to the best of my abilities. This safe and easy relationship with God that is formed while at camp became rather difficulty the second I pull into my driveway at home. Camp, a place disconnected from the outside world is centered around finding a healthy relationship with God – the outside world, strains far and wide away from religion and focuses on things that are “more important”. Factors from my anxiety and depression begin to come into action when away from Camp Mikell, and my motivation to strengthen the bond between my and God weakens and is no longer a priority.

Relationships with God always seem to be so misleading because of how easy some people make them look. I know that all of us have been scrolling through Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook and have seen a picture of someone who was celebrating that fact that they had just been baptized at that morning’s service, and how they were so incredibly grateful to start their lives fulfilling the word of God. It’s seems so easy then doesn’t it? As a younger teen, I used to think that if I just got baptized that I would instantly feel the fervor of God’s love and instantly see his life plan for me.

     As I grew older, I began to wonder if religion was even cut out for me, am I an atheist? Is Camp Mikell just making feel a false impression of God? Why hasn’t God reached out for me? I pondered upon this for several years until this past week, it just hit me… God isn’t going to appear to me in my room at 2:03 am and boom “Joshua? It’s God, I think it’s time that I explain to you how all this work so it becomes easier for you. No more worries, no more stress, let me just lay it all out here on the line for you.” Although, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?

We all have physical developments of what we believe God looks like within our head. A woman, a man, a light, a cloud, etc., but God doesn’t physically show up in our lives. He isn’t going to pop up and give us life advice when we are unsure of what to do. What is SO incredibly beautiful about God is the relationships he forms and the beauty that he leaves on our Earth. He won’t physically come to us and say “This is the college you should attend because…” or “Don’t marry him, he isn’t right for you and won’t make you happy in the long run…”, but I’ve been able to slowly devise my relationship with God because of how mysterious he is. The signs that he has left for me along the way, the extravagance of his world, and the relationships he has allowed me to form.

When I was a small boy, I used to question my mother, a woman who is spiritually strong, about God. “How do we know is he real momma?“. My mother would grab my hand and point up to the sky and the sun the was setting. She would look down at me and say, “Look baby, look at the colors, look at the clouds, look at how majestic that sky is.” I would ponder upon this as she would continue, “I go to bed at night not knowing what kind of God there is or what God has in store for me, but I know, when I look up at the beauty of our sky, that no man and no science can create that beauty by himself/itself.” This one conversation has been the amount of the few things that has kept me holding on to my relationship with God.

God creates beauty. And God has such a wondrous effect upon our world and the people that live within it.  The following quotes have been gathered from REAL people that I know with a REAL connection towards God.

He is the anchor that held me in place during my darkest and hardest storms.

Allowing God to come into my life has been the best decision I have ever made in my entire life. He is such a gentle, kind, guiding, and perfect Father to me. He understands everything about me and loves me with all my flaws. He accepts me with open arms. He has helped me turn from my addictions and the issues of my past and is leading my on a true path towards hope for an amazing future. HE IS SO GOOD.

Look at the devotion within these quotes, the absolute admiration for God, the trust within him. I want the love that these quotes exemplify, I crave to understand God… And I truly think that I am on the right path.

No, my relationship with God isn’s perfect. Yes, I struggle every single day with it. But have learned that he is here. He is looking out for my best interest. He wants me to succeed. Although I have spent most of my life blaming him for my faults and issues, he still loves my unconditionally.

“Joshua, It’s God, and I’m here for you.”

The Best That We Can Be

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, strive, reach, and attempt, our best isn’t wanted. We pour our hearts into something that doesn’t want a glass full. We climb those ladders that lead to a nothingness reward. Each and every day we put our best face forward to achieve our so desired goals.  There’s something missing though – recognition.  We long for lovers who don’t exist. We long to be in the spotlight, we long to be 15 lbs lighter, we long to have lighter hair, and we long to be someone else. No matter the longing, no matter the thirst, some things simply never change. So what’s missing? Is it our fault? Are we truly doing all we can? Or is the universe just not ready to put out for us? We lie in bed at night and wonder what we have done wrong. We begin to tear ourselves apart, limb by limb, pound by pound, inch my inch, tear by tear. We lay in white sheets that are smeared with our disgust towards ourselves. Purity destroyed by our dissatisfaction

On the 5^th day of May in the year of 2015, I, Joshua Shepherd, type this post to you to declare that IT IS NOT OUR FAULTS. We work, and we work, and we work even harder to make our lives be filled with bliss, but it seems like there is always something in our way. IT IS OUR OF OUR REACH. If you have truly done all you can do and dedicated your heart in soul into something but the outcome isn’t to your pleasing, don’t fret. Our best is our best. If we give everything that we have and it doesn’t work out, we aren’t worthless. We aren’t done. We aren’t pieces of shit who can’t accomplish anything – we are human.  God put us on this planet to be the best that we can be.  Our happiness shouldn’t be reached on something or someone’s inability to see our greatness and to notice how valuable we truly are.

I’ve longed all year to have my love be returned by one who could never love me because of “how I am”.  We went nearly the entire school year without speaking but I remembered our brief friendship together. I remember the way I smiled at him; I remember the way I felt as if I mattered. I remembered the way we laughed to same and how my heart throbbed when I was around him. I sat pondering every night for nearly 9 months what I had done wrong.  It wasn’t until tonight when I realized his rejection and embarrassment towards me WAS NOT MY FAULT. I HAVE DONE AND DID ALL I COULD DO TO MAKE HIM ACCEPT ME THAT WAY THAT I WAS. MY BEST ISN’T FOR HIM. And although my best just didn’t satisfy him, it sure as hell satisfies me.  He will not longer rule my mind and eat away at my heart. All I’ve ever wanted to do was love someone. My best is all that I can do. My passion towards him will no longer consume my lifestyle because I know that I have done all that I can do. I am enough for ME. Just as YOU are enough for YOU.

For those who have been around my blog for a while (which is nearly a year!), although I have been a terrible blogger within recent months, know of my struggles with self-harm and eating disorders within my high school career. I’ve recently confessed to relapsing with self-harm. I’ve struggled these past several months with my relapse because of how ashamed I was of myself that it had happened. I couldn’t forgive myself for throwing away an entire year of hard work to a blade. To a blade that did nothing but cause me to feel remorse and an entire new set of rejections.  Today has been somewhat of an epiphany because of my realization. I’ve worked my ass off to recover from a variety of depressive issues. I’m human. I mess up. I falter. I stumble. But I stand back up again and start over. Recovery isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to be worth it. I’m doing the best I can, and that’s truly enough to settle my mind. This being said, I am not saying go home tonight and slit your wrists, but If you do happen to have a moment of darkness, don’t beat yourself up. Stand up, Speak Up, and Start over.

Doing the best you can do is all that you can ask yourself in a moment of doubt. Whether it is with a love interest, a dream, or a recovery, all we have to do is use our determination to reach our final destination. You are all worth so much to the world; don’t let it get you down.

-J.B.S

May 5^th, 2015.

Send me an email- Jshepherd637@gmail.com … I would love to hear from each and every one of my readers. You’re all worthy of love and redemption from your past.

Grant me the serenity

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

My mother has raised me and my sister upon this prayer. My most recent week at camp brought up this quote. I’ve struggled so hard this summer of letting go of things that I just cannot do a think about anymore. I cannot take back my level of intimacy, I cannot take back the scars still on my body, and I can’t take back all of the meals I didn’t digest. But I can stand up today and say that I am alive. I am Joshua Banks Shepherd and I am alive. You are __________ and you are so beautiful and alive.
We have all made mistakes. We have all done things we regret. We all have stories to tell.
I think one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while was drop Musical Theater out of my schedule for my senior year. If you know me or have been reading my blog this summer, you have heard about my passion for theater and chorus. However, this summer I have lost sleep, caused myself to breakout at times, and gone through endless amount of tea because of my stress over theater. Picking audition songs, telling myself that I’m not as talented as others, and freaking out over the never constant schedule.
After my 4th night in a row of ranting to my mother on the verge of tears, I just shouted “I’M DONE, TAKE ME OUT!” and the stress was instantly taken away. Although I’ll miss being on the stage for a year, my mind is cleared in that situation.
I couldn’t change anything about that situation, so I took the toxins out of my life.
But what are YOU struggling with?
—–
Situation: Your boyfriend/girlfriend dumped you three weeks ago for someone else who they considered “better”. You didn’t give them what they wanted sexually, they say, you wanted too much sexually, they say, you aren’t skinny enough, they say, you’re too skinny, they say.
Situation answer: Gather your tears, make yourself a pizza, have a netflix marathon, and learn that you are YOU. IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. You want to have sex… Have sex!!! Wanna wait till marriage? MAKE IT THE BEST NIGHT OF YOUR HUSBANDS LIFE. Wanna look good in a tiny bathing suit? Look good in a healthy way! Eat your veggies, do your squats, and don’t let boys be mean to you! Same goes to you boys! Don’t let girls treat you like poop!
YOU ARE BETTER OFF WITHOUT THIS PERSON. YOU CANNOT CHANGE THEIR POOR DECISIONS SO MOVE ON BABIES AND LOVE YOURSELF MORE THAN THEY COULD EVER.
—–
Situation: You’ve been self harming since you were 10 years old. You’ve drug that old pair of scissors across your wrist hundreds of time, having to cut more and more each time to feel the physical pain instead of the mental pain. Your friends won’t talk to you anymore. Your parents don’t know what to do with you and want to send you away.
Situation answer: Kiss your wrist, put a rubber band on it, and start slow. You feel the urge to cut your beautiful skin, snap that rubber band. The marks will fade after an hour or so, but the pain still happened. Walk yourself slowly out of your addiction. After a few weeks, if your friends still don’t want to talk to you because of your struggles, accept that you need some better friends, and change what you can.
Work on YOU. Move on from rubber-bands to ice cubes. Grip a chunk of ice on both hands, squeeze the shit out of it, until your numb, just like you’re used to. Have a good long cry. Listen to music that makes you happy. Count the days you’ve made it since you’re last cut, celebrate every day you’ve made it through. Reward yourself, take yourself to a nice dinner. Recovery is a celebration.
—–

ACCEPT THE THINGS YOU CANNOT CHANGE.
You don’t have to be going through a breakup or self harm issues to do this. No matter your situation, you are worthy of love and acceptance.

Tonight, I will not crumble

Tonight I am sad. Tonight I am lonely. Tonight I feel lost.
But tonight, I am alive. Tomorrow morning I will be alive, Tomorrow evening I will be alive, and many years after tonight, I will be alive.
My sadness, loneliness, my heart-wrenching feeling of being lost in a vortex of nothingness, will not defeat me, not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.
I look back upon the path I used to walk.
Two years ago, I could have been upset over the same things I am tonight, but woken up the next morning, cuts sliced into my wrist, dried tears, and a neck ache from clenching onto the toilet bowl.
A year ago I could have been lonely due to how I felt I couldn’t let anyone else know that I was gay. A year ago I would have once again woken up with deep cuts upon my wrists and a sore body from a night full of thrashing.
6 months ago, I could have felt lost from another failed relationship attempt, without marks, without physical aches, but an insecurity that controlled every single ounce of my body.
Tonight I am sitting here typing you this post, mind racing a million and ten miles an hour, fingers feeling like they are typing even faster, but I am alive. I will not take that box cutter to my wrist, I will not thrash all night tonight, I will not grip the toilet bowl, and I will not be ashamed of being gay.

This past week, I went back to camp for the 2nd time this summer. I was overwhelmed with joy these two weeks to be back at where I am the happiest. At a place where I can have an influence on children one week, then be with some of my best friends.
The 9 other boys I was sharing the cabin with at Work Camp this past week, were more accepting of my homosexuality than I ever could have imagined. I have grown up with several of these boys since age 7 or younger, and to still be with them at age 17, and for them to play along with my “Straight” story for almost 10 years, then accept me when I was finally out, is a feeling like no other.
This is my motivation to get through the night.
I will be strong and kick this loneliness and anxiety straight in the ass, because these boys give me the strength and the hope. They showed me this past week that I have nothing to fear within my life, they made me feel So Worth Loving.
Yes they dip, yes they play sports, yes they love girls, but not, they do not fit that “Stereotypical” asshole male.
Being able to be gay, loud, and sassy all while opening up to a group of people and god makes my heart fill with such wonder.
This week, a boy at camp came out as Asexual, and as I went to speak to him later, he said I gave him the confidence to do so.
It brings tears to my eyes to hear me being myself inspires others to be themselves and move on in their life to be exactly who they are.

So tonight, I remember these things, I remember my past, I embrace and love my present, and I will be ready for the future, and you can be too.

Who in God’s Name is God?!

A questions without a question mark.
This statement I have shouted so many times to myself, wondering where he or she or it even is.
Most of my thoughts regarding God used to be so angry.
I blamed god for all of the issues I was struggling with.
Until recently, I truly lacked a connection with God.
Just a little over a year and half ago, I was sitting on my bathroom floor in the basement carving into my skin, crying to myself, and begging a god to make me stop.
In my freshman and sophomore year of high school, I always shouted and made it clear that there wasn’t a god. I declared myself as agnostic in my freshman year, although I had zero idea of what the hell that meant.
After an emotional week of camp (good emotional) before my junior year, I started realizing things:
I cannot simply look out my window at night, as the peach sky melts before my very eyes, and say that there is not a god. Man and science together could not have created the beauty of a sunset, the beauty of a friend, the beauty of recovery.
All the scars I left on my body, all the pounds I lost, and all the people I have deceived, have been left, lost, and deceived for a reason. It’s in His plan.
I’m not a bible thumper, I don’t go to church, I’ve smoked weed, I’ve had my fair share of alcohol, but I know the world could not have just been science alone.
It’s hard for me to sit here and type to you all my feelings of religion, because most of the time I don’t even understand it.
I’m a believer in evolution but I also believe in God. To most, this is a twisted view on creation, due to most want one to pick a side, creationist or evolutionist thoughts.
Lord knows how close I was to committing suicide that second semester of my sophomore year, and I have no damn clue how I just deciding one night to give up all my hard work for my skinny body, but I know that some form of higher power helped my sick body and mind out.
I am here because some form of a god created me, and I am here because I stuck through all the shit.
There is a god, somewhere in this universe.
But how could there be a hell when I’ve already been through it?