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

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(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

BRAND NEW: What went wrong?

     Welcome to the three post series on ConfidencetoCommitment called “BRAND NEW”, this is technically the first post within the series, although there was an introductory post with a brief summary of what to expect within this series! Over the next 2-3 weeks, my blog will be filled with nothing but this series, but I already have some exciting plans for the blog within the next couple of months! This post, the first within “BRAND NEW”, is dedicated to what got me spiraling out of control again after a long period of recovery. So buckle up, and get ready for a whole lot of mess in a blog post.

 

I officially claimed to be in recovery on December 1st, 2012, from my eating disorder, and shortly after claimed my recovery from self-harm towards the start of 2013. After a struggling relationship and a struggling mind, I needed something to change in my life, so I decided that I must be the thing to change. I gave up my old tendencies and fought with all my might to find some true light and happiness. It was a shaky start, but with some support as momentum, my happiness could be seen within the distance. I found myself a fantastic support system that became some of the greatest friends I have ever known. The more time that I dedicated to recovery and the more friends I found by my side, the easier I found my recovery.   I slipped up a few times in regards to self-harm, but never let go of my recovery with my eating disorder. After these slip ups, a sense of strength came over me and I powered through my junior year of high school. My junior year presented some real battles within my life. I experienced the most excruciating heartbreak I can imagine, I came out of the closet, and I found old relationships with friends crumbling. However, I fought through and was so proud of myself and of my triumphs at the end of the year.

The summer after my junior year, I created this blog, ConfidencetoCommitment, which instantly sparked a following and a good number of views every time I posted. When asked, people explained that it was my brutal honesty and vulnerability on my blog that made it so appealing to them. People began to tweet me, to message me on Facebook, text me, and email me about how my blog and story inspired them to stay alive. I found myself in a place of euphoria, something that had been lacking in my life for so many years. Unfortunately, this feeling did not last, and came with am immense amount of pressure. I didn’t want to let my readers down and deliver a post that didn’t satisfy them. As my senior year began and was in its midst, I came across a series of people who doubted my morality, my kindness to others, and my ability to love others. This took a tremendous toll on my happiness and the security that I felt within my life. So Worth Loving (www.soworthloving.com) and To Write Love On Her Arms (www.twloha.com) are a portion of my life that I represent daily, through fashion, social media, and through what I thought was my actions. After some high school drama, I was doubted on many things, including the way that I was treating people because of problems that I had with them.

 One of my greatest flaws is how show my insecurities, which is through defensiveness. After not being cast as roles that I wanted within musicals, not receiving solos in choir, struggling with God, and struggling with how much of a joke I appeared within the LGBTQ+ community in my hometown, I fell back into a state of defensiveness to hide my insecurities. Regardless of how people were treating me, the way I reacted was so inappropriate and is now understandable how it was perceived as hatred or as someone who didn’t really embrace the So Worth Loving and To Write Love on Her Arm’s lifestyle. Instead of outwardly discussing my feelings like I had been doing on my blog for the past months, I found myself blogging less, telling my friends less about my pain, and putting forth anger instead of love to hide my true inner emotions. I felt as if members of my choir and of my theatre troupe hated me with so much passion that I had nowhere else to turn. I wanted so hard to spread love to them, and to make them feel so worthy of love and happiness, but my insecurities made me come across as a dark, sinister, and hateful person, which is something that my heart does not wish to represent. I was consumed with rage over the most miniscule events, because every single negative aspect within my life now seemed to be magnified by a thousand. My head was a raging sea of misery, insecurities, and jealousy, and forced my views of others to be misconstrued

After a few months of this, I began cutting again. I began lying on my blog (when I even posted) about how I was really doing, and I began making more and more enemies within he things that I loved most in my life. People saw me as a judgmental person, not as someone who wanted all to feel worthy. I was tearing myself up inside, I didn’t know how to tell them my true intentions because I had dug myself into such a deep hole. I began to doubt myself again. I doubted the way that I looked, the way my body looked, I doubted my talents, I doubted my relationship with God, and I doubted if I was even a decent human anymore. I convinced myself that it was okay to start cutting again. Each time it happened, I cut deeper, and I cut more and more and more. There was a time in the winter of 2014-2015 that I cut so much that my right and left arms, right and left legs, and hips, were covered with hundreds and hundreds of marks. I didn’t know where else to turn anymore. I hadn’t been to therapy in over a year, and I couldn’t bear to tell my friends that I was so depressed and anxious again.

 

As the year progressed, I fell into a pit of immaturity. I cared more about maintaining this “hard-ass” or “I don’t have feelings or emotions” side of myself, than focusing on how much pain I was putting myself through by not showing the love that I knew was in my heart. Scars that had long faded found themselves onto my arms yet again, and it felt as if I the years of work I had done was all for nothing. I graduated from high school having more enemies than friends in the things that I loved most (Choir and Theatre), which made me that much more ready to leave my town and move away to college. However, in regards to my mental stability, I was the farthest thing from ready to move away to a completely new location and be basically on my own. I wanted to run away from my problems, leave those who I had skirmished with behind, instead of pushing through what would only be waiting for me each and every time I would return from school.

 

I remember looking down at my stomach in the shower one day and not liking what I saw, something that hadn’t crossed my mind in quite a while, and had been of recently. I then looked to both of my arms and legs and saw marks that I had put there, and thought to myself “Well, if I can do one thing (cutting), I can do the other (purge)”. That night, I made myself purge my meal for the first time in nearly 3 years. I had fallen into such a depression again. I knew that people hated me yet again, and I knew that it was all in my control, and everything that had begun again within the past year was something that I could have changed, if I had only wanted to put forth the effort.  I’ve been told in the past that I am a very persuasive person, and that proved to be true by the way I convinced myself it was okay to leave the remains of my meal in a porcelain bowl that night.

 

When I first decided to give up purging my meals, it was just something that clicked in me. I told myself that I did not want to live a life like that anymore. Two and a half years later, the same thing commenced. I did not want to hurt any longer, and I did not want others to be hurt because of the things I had done within the past year. As simple as it sounds, the only thing that truly got me out of my relapse was me. I had to rearrange my thoughts, tell myself I was worthy of life and happiness, and find the things within my life to be thankful for. Just as I was persuasive enough to allow myself to purge and cut, I was also able to persuade myself to suit up and quit living in a pool of self-pity.

 

     I relapsed, but it didn’t end my recovery. It was merely a road bump, and allowed me to refocus my thoughts, energy, and time, to becoming a safer and happier me. 

 

 

     I hope you will join me over the next two blog posts within the “BRAND NEW SERIES” here on www.confidencetocommitment.wordpress.com, as I discuss my new recovery tactics and where I stand today with my recovery.

Thank you, for your support and dedication to this blog, it means more than you could imagine.

J.B.S.

12/16/15

Share your story with me, I truly want to hear!

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BRAND NEW: The Introduction

Well, Well Well... Look who we have here. After nearly a 5-month hiatus, I have returned to the blogging world to share the past near-half year of my life, as well as some incredibly difficult truth.

 

When this blog was first created in June of 2014, I had the sole intention of discussing issues such as depression, anxiety, self-harm, and eating disorders, considering that at the time they were so much more real than they are to me today. I still live day to day with my anxiety and fight each and every day to stay strong (as cliché as that may sound). However, as I have moved to college and started such a new and fresh chapter in my life, I have learned that under the blog name “Confidence to Commitment”, there is so much more to discuss; this confidence and commitment must always be used, even in a simple task of meeting a new person and possibly building some sort of relationship.

 

In August of this year (2015) I moved to Georgia College and State University to be a theatre major (I have now switched to pre-early childhood education with theatre as my minor). I began my journey here at Georgia College as a completely difference person than that one I am now, typing you this blog post at nearly 2 am (during finals week may I add). I came to Georgia College the same person that I was in high school: secretly struggling and stubborn enough to not as for help when needed. I walked into my first class, a libertarian economics class based off of Ron Swanson from the hit TV show, “Parks and Rec”. The name of this incredibly unique class was “Swansonomics” (Ironically the same class that I have a final exam in… in 7 hours…). I had absolutely no idea what to expect. I learned then and there that I was on my own until I figured out other arrangements. We will be taught the material and are able to ask a few questions, but we were on our own for preparing and understand the material. This soon became a common pattern within my newfound college life.

 

I was so excited to arrive at Georgia College because I got a fresh start. A fresh start from high school, although I barely implemented a fresh start I way I was acting, considering that I was the same hot mess that I was throughout high school. I had on rose-tinted glasses all summer waiting for move-in day, but little did I know that most things were either incredibly different or the complete opposite of what I expected. Throughout my earlier education, I never had a problem with finding friends and flocking to a group of people to associate myself with. I assumed that with a student body of 6,000+ undergraduate students, I figured there was at least one that was just like me. After a couple of weeks had passed, I found myself rather empty handed in regards to what I had come into Georgia College looking for. I was frustrated that I hadn’t made my mark on the school yet. I was upset that I watched all of these people with their new friend groups and I struggled to find someone to sit with in the Max (the school’s meal plan), which was something that I never really experienced in grade school.

 

You know those movie scenes where someone is all dressed up and a car speeds by and splashes a murky mixture of water, mud, and gravel all over their clothes and bodies? Well, ironically enough, after a night of feeling down about myself because of the lack of friends I had made, I walked to class one rainy morning with my umbrella. As I am about to turn the corner to reach my 9 am class, a giant and lifted truck splashed a cold puddle (it was more like a small like if we are being honest here) all over me. As mentioned earlier in the blog post I am too stubborn sometimes to ask for help when I need it, and here help was, brisk water all over my bag, clothes, hair, and skin. Although I would have much rather of experienced this in a much less wet and cold manner, this was the most determining factor in the realization that nothing is the same in college as it was before I came, and that is exactly how it is supposed to be. Just as I learned in 2015 that things aren’t always going to work the same as they did two years prior, in 2013.

 

I’m not saying that my friends came flocking instantly, but damn, it sure felt as if when I gave up control and let life happen. After that, I began to blossom and find my happiness with my own group of people. I have made some incredibly and unforgettable friends since that incident on a rainy morning. Giving up my control of wanting to maintain the life that I had prior to coming to Georgia College is hands down, one of the best and most rewarding decisions that I have made in quite a long time.

 

I was so stuck on finding the same kind of friends that I left at home that went off to different colleges, and even a few friends that came to Georgia College along my side. But that was such a mistake, a mistake that taught me such a valuable lesson; never be afraid to reach out. The friends that I spend my free time with are such a crazy bunch. Friends who are loud and outspoken like myself, friends who prefer to observe, and everything in-between make my life here at Georgia College so much easier and filled with joy.  You can bet your ass that I’m the same, vulgar, loud, and borderline obnoxious guy that started this blog just over 18 months ago.

 

I knew from the second that my senior year of high school began that I was ready for a fresh start and to leave to cattiness of high school behind. However, something that never crossed my mind prior to moving to Georgia College was how relieved I was to have a break from the space where so much darkness, so much pain, and so much scarring took place. I know live in an apartment with one other roommate. I have my own bedroom and bathroom and I never thought I would be able to say that there was a mood change with bedrooms and bathrooms. Every single time I walk into my bathroom at home, I see the silhouette of a boy sitting on the bathroom floor slitting his wrists, compressing cries, and finding a way to get every piece of the meal he had just eaten out of his stomach. What’s becomes complex about recovery is how support systems dwindle and the things that you used to tell yourself to feel better no longer work. Fresh wounds on an arm need and attract more support and love then faded white scar on a wrist from a few months prior. I found myself craving the feeling of creating a new mark and craving the satisfaction of clearing my stomach after a meal, no matter the size.

 

Something that is always hard to admit is the act of relapse. Within the year of 2015, I would be a dishonest blogger and dishonest person if I told you that I didn’t bring a blade to my skin and that I didn’t skip meals and that I didn’t leave my meal in a toilet bowl. It’s hard to tell those you love that maybe you have not made as much progress as you once thought you had. That’s something that’s so baffling about recovery. I felt that for nearly a year and a half that I was unstoppable, that I could help others who struggled with self-harm and eating disorders, and that sense of being unstoppable was what brought me back down to the tile floor that I used to sit on in the bathroom. I look down at the scars upon my arm and I know what I’ve been through. I know where I went through it. But most importantly, I’m learning all over again how to fight the right path to recovery yet again. I was addicted yet again to conflicting pain on myself, I craved the pain, and I craved the feeling of having complete control over myself. This same control held me back from happiness at the start of my journey at Georgia College.

 

I found myself in a place of power. My more popular blog posts were reaching upwards of 10,000 views and I was receiving mail, social media requests, and emails about how my story inspired them to put the blade down, to step off the scale, and find their path to recovery and to happiness. I was so concerned with keeping my reader’s happy and keeping them on a right path that I lied to you all about the state of mind that I was in. 

 

The moral of these two almost completely topic points was how they needed a fresh start and new mindset. I came to Georgia College and had the wrong mindset to find my happiness. I had to learn within 2015 that some of the tactics that I used to keep the blade down and the food in my stomach back in 2013 aren’t the same ones that I need to use now to keep my body clean from new scars and my stomach full with yummy foods (accepting the freshman 15 has been a while other journey…). I had to find two new paths for my new life. I had to change my mindset and figure out new ways to find happiness.

 

This blog post is the first of a series of five. The series is “Brand New” and will include the process to recovery the second time around and the changes that will be made. I am making a promise to each and every one of my reader’s that this time around, there is nothing but complete honesty.

 

I’ve taken away from college that so much changes, and just accepting that change will lead you down a successful path.

I am Joshua Shepherd. I am brand new. I have a new mindset, a new set of friends in additions to the ones who wait for me at home, and new possibilities that greet me each and every day I walk out the front door. Sometimes… I don’t even try to avoid the big puddle, wondering to myself if it might lead me down yet another path of rejuvenation

 

I am 5 months clean from bulimia and 3 months clean from self-harm. It’s taken a lot of adjusting falling from nearly 2 years clean from an eating disorder to back to zero, but it was the wakeup call I needed to continue my happiness and to encourage the happiness of others.

 

The first time was just practice, let’s have BRAND NEW start.

 

Always,

J.B.S 12/09/2015

 

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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.

IT IS SO WORTH IT

I started this blog in June 2014, throwing huge parts of my struggles onto the internet for anyone to see. Over my past 5 or so blog posts, I’ve been using information that I gather throughout my day an incorporating those into a blog post. Today, I figured I would take a turn and go back towards making my blog posts most personal. Because after all, I am still a huge work in progress.
I constantly ask myself this dark question: “Is my life even worth it anymore?” I lay in bed at night, drowning in my own anxiety, my own depression, my own pain. I have the best support system anyone could ask for, and I know that I can turn to that system whenever I need help. However, if you’re reading this and you suffer with any mental disorder, you understand the fear, the near impossibility, of reaching out and saying that you’re struggling. I look back a years time, reading old tweets, old journal entries, old texts, and realize how truly negative I was in every single aspect of my life. Every conversation was “I’m too fat” “I’m too ugly” and it ruined some of the best things that ever happened to me within my life. I ruined a relationship that had made me happier than I ever been (Or so I thought. How could I have been happy while I was so self-conscious?) and I lost a huge chunk of my life by focusing on everything that was going wrong in my life. Now, although I don’t center my life about my weight or how I look (because honestly who the hell gives a shit anymore. I’m a senior in high school, it’s lucky if I can make it out the door in the morning, much less look cute or worry about what I’m eating.) I am constantly concerned with the progress on the road to happiness I have made (or haven’t made). I miss everything about my junior year of high school. Relationships, trips for choir, our spring musical. Although I have ALL of those things ahead of my for my senior year, everything seems to be different. I’ve made different mistakes, a lot of my friends graduated, and I have to focus on my future. I don’t feel like my life is happy. When I get up in the morning, I am upset. I don’t want to wake up most mornings and I certainly do not want to face the world. That’s anxiety. It’s something I suffer with, and it’s something I am always going to suffer with until I find away to just not give a damn. But that’s the thing about anxiety, you can’t just throw away things that are on your mind, because they consume you. Every negative though I have, consumes my entire body, my movement, my facial expressions, my singing, my everything. I used to be so good at hiding what I was feeling, but now, it reads all over my face, and I have no way of hiding what I am going through (Thus me posting about it).
I guess the point of my going through that entire rant for you is to explain the importance of perserverance, the importance to get yourself out of bed in the morning and face the world, because without doing that, how will you ever have a chance of happiness? Without facing your problems, without me facing my anxiety, how will I ever get better? If I don’t try, how will I have a great senior year?
Those nights that we lay in bed and wish that we wouldn’t wake up in the morning, have got to be only temporary. This won’t be forever. But for now, it is something that we are going to have to live with. We’re going to have depressing thoughts, and those thoughts are going to consume our minds for a while, but we have to push through.
Why, you ask?
1. Life is beautiful
2. Sunshine is so much more wonderful that the ceiling of your bedroom.
3. You and I are So Worth Loving

Friends, anxiety is a bitch.
Anxiety is that bitch in high school telling you that you aren’t worthy.
Telling you that you don’t fit in.
Telling you that you can’t do it anymore.
But guess what?
Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks.
Think about it.
Anxiety is nothing but a bunch of sick tricks and lies.
Our anxiety will not defeat us.
Our anxiety is what is of no value.
We, on the other hand, have SO much value

So tonight, when you’re laying in bed and thinking: Is my life really worth it?
Remind yourself of this blog post. Remind yourself how much you have to look forward to in your life. Remind yourself that you are so loved.
WE can do this.
And WE can do this together.

Reach out to me:

Send me an email, I would love to hear your story.
Friends are wonderful, especially when you have common struggles.
JShepherd637@gmail.com

Body Shaming//Men Have Insecurities About Their Bodies Too

In recent months, there has been an outbreak over what is more attractive: Skinny or Curvy. In Meghan Trainor’s song, “All about that bass” lines such as “go and tell those skinny bitches that” or “boys like a little more booty to hold at night” spread across social media, defending two sides.
Side 1 is 100% for this song promoting the beauty in curves and have something to grab at night, for lack of a better phrase.
Side 2 is 100% against this song as it promotes “skinny girl body shaming”.

I am extremely torn on this topic of conversation because of the pros and cons of both sides.
I always try (sometimes I fail) to promote the beauty in all body types: skinny, fat, curvy, awkward, long legs, long torso, short legs, short torso, etc.
I promote loving your body no matter WHAT size or shape you are.
But I don’t promote hating someone because of their body.
Fat shaming has been an issue for years, especially around the middle school and high school ages.
However, recently, “skinny shaming” has become a topic of conversation.
What bothers me is the argument that is surrounding these, which is causing the issue, not the actual comments. The past several months have been filed with social media arguments fighting over who truly has it worse, fat or skinny girls (also for lack of a better phrase).
I have two points to make about this:
1. In high school, you don’t see girls with nice bodies being picked on, maybe the occasional girl who is viewed to have an awkward body. It is usually the girls that have a little extra that get the grief.
2. Regardless of body size and who has it worse: Shaming someone else for the body that they have is nothing to be proud of and should not be something to argue over based on who has it worse. We are all guilty of judging someone of how they look or how much they weigh, and it is something that needs to change within our society. EVERYONE HAS INSECURITIES AND COULD BE INSECURE ABOUT THEIR BODIES SO SHAMING GIRLS FOR THEIR BODIES AND THEN ARGUING ABOUT WHO HAS IT WORSE IS NO BUENO.
Skinny, fat, curvy, or bony, you have a beautiful body, love it because it is YOURS.
This song, empowered women around the world to see the beauty in their curvy bodies and to not strive for something like a skinny body if that isn’t what they want.
It allows women, and even some men, to understand that someone will fall in love with you no matter what your body type or how much you weight.

—–
This brings me to my next topic of conversation: men and their body image.
I plan to go into greater detail into this is one of my next posts, but I thought now would be an appropriate time to introduce it.
The stereotype surrounding men is that we must always act tough and be strong physically and not talk about feelings/how we feel, even about our bodies.
The stereotype surrounding gay men is that we must always be cute and fit.
Us gays are always talking about our feelings.

The tie between the two of them is that we are both human.
Just like the women, we were born with a heart, a soul, and were given a body, whether we appreciate that body or not is completely up to us.

I remember being a big athlete and swimming every single day, working my six-pack.
I also remember during this time how much I hated myself, even though physically, my body was nice to look at.
This can go for football players, basketball players, lacrosse players, male cheerleaders, theatre kids, ANYONE.

Boys, what I am trying to tell you is that it’s okay to be insecure. It’s okay to look in the mirror after football practice, after school, before school, after rehearsal, etc. and not like what you see.
You want to know why? You’re human.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO HAVE LADY PARTS TO FEEL. TO HURT. TO TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS. TO CRY. TO ASK FOR HELP. TO BE INSECURE.

Reach out to someone, talk about your feelings, and accept that you don’t have to be strong all the time.
You can do this boys!
You can do this girls!
We can do this together!

recovery still sucks 2 years later

Today I started my senior year of high school, an exciting point in ones live, however today was probably the worst first day of school I’ve ever been to. I started my morning at chickfila with some friends, running in to people that don’t enjoy me. Already at 7:30 in the morning, I felt judged, something that I definitely hadn’t missed all summer. I could already tell that today was going to be rough, and I already felt my face turning hot and red from frustration.
I had so much anger and anxiety built up inside of me today and I honestly have no idea what to do with it. Usually when I’m angry or upset over someone or something, the normal level of sass I have (which is still high…whoops) just escalates so that I have something to hind behind what I’m really feeling.
Today I felt hated for being gay. Today I felt judged because of that way I cross my legs when I sit, for the way I laugh, for the way I walk, and for the way that I talk. I hadn’t felt this insecure in several months. I looked for salvation in choir as I always do, and I found bits of it, but also added on to my struggles for the day.
As a senior in chamber choir and an officer, I should be jumping with joy and I am, partially. However, with news of solo sight reading tests and pass offs, my heart sinks and I know I won’t do well. Knowing that you’re not as great as something as you need to be really stinks, and when it’s going to affect your grade, it hurts.
Today and in the past few months, I have gotten in the worst habit of comparing myself to others again. I’m hurting a lot right now because I’m not in theater, but I have to constantly remind myself that if I was in theater this year, how much more I would compare myself to others.
If you’re reading this, I’m sure you understand what it’s like to have a passion about something. For me, it’s singing, and there is nothing more that I’d rather be doing (except for an occasional power nap), and when passion and anxiety miss, it’s a deathly duo. I don’t want to wallow in pity, because I know that I have talent and I know that just about nobody works as hard as I do.
I just want a moment, a moment of recognition, a moment of applause, a moment of satisfaction from doing a job well done.
I guess what I’m trying to get out of this post is that yes I’m “recovered” but I still have anxiety, I still compare myself to anyone I think is superior to me, and I am wounded inside right now from doing that to myself.
As hard as it’s going to be, gaining my confidence back my senior year is something that must happen. No matter what happens, no matter if I fail my sight reading tests, or don’t get solos, I will be confident within myself once again.
This goes for anyone: Being confident starts with being happy in the situation that you’re in. No matter how hard it is, or how unhappy you may feel, there has to be a positive aspect of every situation.
I’m more guilty of that than I would like to admit, not being happy within the current situations of my life. I need to work on my anger towards to world, and I need to stop taking everything in my life so seriously. I have one year left as a kid practically, and I’ll be damned if I ruin another year of high school for myself.
Through So Worth Loving and some tea, I will conquer my struggles of the year. Just like I always have.

Here’s to happiness and seniority kids!
Best of luck to all of you, no matter the situation you may be in!

Twitter- @JoshShepB
Instagram- @JoshuaShepherd

Send me emails on feedback, ideas for future blogs, and thoughts on this post!
jshepherd637@gmail.com I would really love to here from you loves! ♥

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.

Coming Out//How do you tell if you’re ready?

Upon the topic of sexuality, coming out of the closet or how to come out of the closet is probably the most persistent question or issue.

I came out of the closet fully on social media and publicly on October 6th, 2013, when I was with my two best friends, Miranda and Annalise. The difficulty of this was deciding whether or not I thought that I was fully ready or not. Even thought most already assumed or knew, it was still a moment within my life that was completely heart racing. I remember sitting on Miranda’s trampoline and typing out my “coming out” instagram post. 

I decided that making my full coming out a funny situation. I posted a picture of Miranda and I (She kissed my cheek with red lip stick and we were in a cute pose) and the caption was something along the lines of “I’m gaaaaaaaaay guys, and you probably think this is a joke, but it’s not… So there! And of course, I included a whole hell of a lot of kissy emojis. This moment, although a joke, took an a huge mass and weight off of my chest.

Now, I’m not saying that this is the method that you should use, however, it made a sensitive and hard thing to do, much easier on myself. I was with my favorite friends and had already had a great night, therefore I was in a “gay” mood. Having the support of my friends with me during this milestone within my life was beyond helpful.

Before you can even sit down and decide your coming out method, of course you have to come to the realization that you are ready to come out of the closet.

For so many years, I was so angry at myself for being gay, or for having gay thoughts about others. Honestly, at the point of my coming out, I wasn’t even sure that I was ready to come out to the world. I had always planned, after I realized I truly loved boys, coming out after high school, therefore, I wouldn’t have to deal with the ass holes in high school. But once I had made my huge “announcement” I felt free, I felt good, and I was able to start the path of becoming myself. Although I still to this day receive nasty comments, rude remarks, and used to get the occasional threat, nothing could touch me.

Once you realize to yourself that no one can touch your free spirit, you know that you’re ready,

Actually, this is my last post about Junior Year. Whoops!

Everyone knows the feeling of coming back to school after a two week break. The feelings of “I hate school why do I have to go” and “I’m pissed because I can’t sleep until noon anymore”. Trust me, I understand all of these feelings completely, and more. After Christmas Break 2013-2014, I was dreading going back to school. My confidence had already been wavering before Christmas break, and after I made some poor choices and gave away something that I can’t get back, I was close to crumbling. Through the help of my friends and So Worth Loving, I was slowly able to rebuild the confidence that I had lost.
Now, when I state that my confidence was back, I mean that I felt that I was worthy of love. What I love about So Worth Loving is that they provide so many examples of backgrounds you can come from, and no matter where you come from, you are still worthy of all the love imaginable. Although I still didn’t think that I was attractive, was stressing about my weight because I wasn’t 120lbs anymore, and was lonely without a silly boy to tell me I was good looking, I knew that one day I would find love, that I had friends and family now that thought I was amazing just as I was.
My grades had finally picked up, All A’s and a B in AP Psychology. I was working hard for my school’s Spring Musical, All Shook Up, for for LGPE for my Chamber Choir. I realized that I could be dedicated to other things besides relationships. I felt comfortable in my own skin finally, and was passionate, more than I ever had been about musical theater and chorus. I became so close to a group of girls from my chamber choir, and even made more friends that I had never expected would like me.
As prom and the opening of All Shook Up rolled around, I found myself developing feelings for the guy for my school again. We had mended out ways and I had forgiven him and he had forgiven me. We had a mutual disgust towards the guy who had posted my story online (now we are friends again and I have forgiven him for everything that had happened between us). After several weeks of flirting and questioning whether he liked me or not, we kissed on my dock when he came over to tan after school one day. I felt good. I went to prom with Annalise and we went with our musical theater group. Prom was such an amazing night. We all spent the night at a girl in our troupe’s house.
Everything was good, and everything was right, until I started having trust issues again.
The “relationship” ended just a few days after my birthday. I was confused and I was hurt a little bit, but I knew that I was going to be okay.
As crazy as this sounds, after I had been heartbroken and sad once again, It made me realize that I was okay. I knew at this point how strong I was.
Yeah, I might be loud, obnoxious, annoying, and extremely flamboyant, but I’ve accomplished so much over the past year and a half and I am so proud of myself.
Now I know, although dating is a wonderful thing, I don’t need it to feel beautiful and loved.
No one can love me more than I can.
So Worth Loving, To Write Love on Her Arms, and More Love Letters are all companies dedicated to making you feel the best you can within your situation and life.
Today I stand here, nearly 20 months clean from anorexia and bulimia, and 10 months clean from self harm. I am clean, I am happy, I am gay, and I am free.
Free to be.
Love you love people. Stay Strong all you beautiful people, I will always be here blogging away the constant thoughts throughout my mind. Stay tuned!
-J.B.S.