this is me sending out my satellite call

I was diagnosed with depression when I was 22 (though I’m quite sure it started in high school) and panic disorder and agoraphobia at 23. For the last 16 years, I’ve had ups and downs, countless medication trials (some with unbearable side effects), therapy, relapses, crises, and recoveries.

In 2013, Sara Bareilles released an album called The Blessed Unrest. The album opened with the empowering anthem Brave and just got better from there. It was and maybe still is my favorite work of hers (though I love everything she does so it’s hard to truly pick a favorite). The album contained a song called Satellite Call that, over the last 8 years, has been a comfort to me when I felt completely alone in the world. Because of Sara I felt less alone. This song means as much to me as a close friend might, for the number of times it’s reminded me that I can get through it.

This is so you’ll know the sound of someone who loves you from the ground. Tonight you’re not alone at all, this is me sending out my satellite call.

In 2018, my Dad passed away suddenly, unexpectedly, and excruciating. It changed me permanently.

In 2019, nearly a year after losing Dad, Sara released her next studio album Amidst the Chaos. It has been 6 years while she was working on Waitress since we’d had new Sara music that wasn’t waitress related, other than a couple of singles here and there. Needless to say, as a fan since the beginning, I was very excited. The first few tracks to be released just confirmed that this album was going to be amazing.

When I first heard No Such Thing, it struck me immediately as a song that made me think of Dad.

I feel you, you’re in the next room
At any given moment you could reappear.
Thin air, you're out there in it somewhere
If I could only get there, I could breathe again
Tell me how to start what comes after you?
I am in the dark, love, what now?

No such thing as over you, I don't want it anyway
I wouldn't even try to
If I don't let go, then there is no such thing as over this
I've tried to get over you, over you, over you
But I think there's no such thing

Broken
You're Rome, I am the ruins
The stone I can't find you in is all that still remains
Little white lights, they perforate every night sky
I say it to them every time "Come back in"

No such thing as over you, I don't want it anyway
I wouldn't even try to
If I don't let go, then there is no such thing as over this
I've tried to get over you, over you, over you
But I think there's no such thing

You're on my mind, all the time
But I can't fix it by fixating on a rewind
When a good thing changes and the change is staying
Only thing to find is what to hold on
'til there's something else to hold on to
Hold on, 'til there's something else to hold on to

No such thing as over you, I don't want it anyway
I wouldn't even try to
If I don't let go, then there is no such thing as over this
I've tried to get over you, over you, over you
But I think there's no such thing

That fall, Sara went on tour. I went to 4 shows: Nashville, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and Philadelphia. I could have seen it even more, it was such an amazing show and wonderful trips to accompany them.  At the first show, Nashville, the tears started the second I heard the opening piano notes of No Such Thing. The song is so close to my heart, and hearing it live, in the same room as Sara, just made it all the more powerful.

As she gets to the end of the song, the music shifts slightly and I hear a familiar vocalization. From Satellite Call. The one song that might help me get through listening to No Such Thing. It was so perfect, and beautiful. Other than She Used to Be Mine from Waitress, these two songs have been the most healing for me and the fact that she combined them for tour could not have been more perfect.

A couple of weeks ago, they (finally!) announced that a live album of the tour was on its way. I’d been hoping for this for over a year! Throughout COVID lockdowns and quarantines, I would pull up live videos from YouTube of the song just to hear it again. I would listen to the opening of the tour, just to hear it again. And now I would FINALLY have professionally recorded audio from this tour that meant so much to me.

The album comes out next Friday, but last night at midnight, the track for No Such Thing/Satellite Call dropped. Please enjoy this masterpiece.

Apple 

Spotify

YouTube

something always brings me back to you, it never takes too long

It has been a long time since I've written in this blog, or even thought about it. Tonight, I have some things to say that might be important, so I’m putting them out into the universe in hopes that it reaches even one person.

 

Psychiatric help in this country is not accessible. In order to get immediate help when in crisis, you have to either pay an extraordinary amount of money out of pocket, or you have to wait weeks on end. It is amazing to me the number of psychiatric practices that do not accept insurance. What that says to me is that helping people is not their primary concern and it pisses me off.

 

Since September, I have been struggling. In fact, I do not feel I am being dramatic when I say I am in the worst mental health crisis of my life, possibly even worse than when this journey began.

This is something that has happened on and off over the last decade and I’ve come to accept that things will never be "perfect" and I will always battle these disorders. What I did not expect was that, while on multiple medications, I would relapse into severe panic disorder. 

 

For the last couple of weeks, I have felt like I’m having a panic attack all day. My only relief is sleep. I’m paralyzed by fear and panic and have only barely functioned in any sort of meaningful way. For the second time in my life, I am staying with my mom, because it’s safer for me not to be alone when I am this desperate.

 

Mom and I spent hours today making phone calls to various emergency psychiatric facilities in town. She had to push me to even make the calls or pack a bag and come to her house because I was so incapable of rational thought or doing anything but surviving the minute in front of me.

 

The only one that sounded the least bit compassionate to my struggle was Seven Counties. I spoke to various hospital psychiatric wards today who warned me that I would not be admitted anywhere without being a threat to myself or others. So, I have to be fully suicidal to get help. I am not suicidal. I have seen how death, especially sudden death, has torn a massive hole in my family that will never fully heal. In my worst moments, I could never do that to my family. I do not want to die. I want to live, and I want to be able to do that fully, and happily.

 

The worst part about this recent relapse is that I did it to myself, sort of. I wanted to see if I could come off of Celexa because of its side effects – appetite stimulation which no doubt contributed to the unhealthiest I ever was in my life, just a year and a half ago; sedation, which was likely causing a lot of my lack of motivation in daily activity; emotional suppression, which left me feeling like a robot. I knew what I should be feeling, but I couldn’t actually feel it. I am not even sure I was able to fully grieve my father until recently.

 

Unfortunately, I have been going downhill since. The easy solution would have been to replace the Celexa with a similar drug (SSRI). The nurse practitioner I am currently seeing recommended other paths and long story short, here we are months later and I am as bad, if not worse, as I was when my panic disorder was first diagnosed. The difference is back then I wasn’t medicated at all. This NP now has me on FOUR medications, one of which I will be tapering off of soon. I could go on and on about the ways this NP has made me feel uncared for, judged, and belittled, but I won’t go into that now because frankly my anxiety can’t take it.

 

Hence the phone calls to emergency providers across the city. No one can help me. Doctors who do take insurance have weeks long waiting lists and there are so many that don’t take insurance. I certainly can’t afford that and it makes me wonder about people who are not as privileged as I am.

 

I have resources. I have an insurance plan, and paid time off work, and a family who will support me to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes. I have friends, some of whom have their own struggles and some who don’t, who have reached out to me throughout this time to check in, and even when all I could muster was a couple of words, they supported me.

 

What happens to the people who don’t have that? Those who can’t afford the insurance options in the country, let alone the cost of out-of-network or (worse) completely out of pocket providers. What happens to the people who are alone and don’t have the kind of support system I do? 

 

This is why mental health care in this country needs reform and we need it now. There are so many people who have it worse than I do, with more serious mental illnesses and no help. These are often the people who turn to drugs and alcohol, erratic behavior, or worst of all, taking their own lives.

Furthermore, we need to break the stigma against mental health and finally get it recognized as being just as valid as any other physical illness. There are meds that can help, and some of them can be addictive so many providers have stopped prescribing them. I am all for fixing drug addiction in this country, don't misunderstand me. There are some of us that need help, and those drugs are the only thing that help. One way this could change is if better funding and research was available to the mental health community, so that new and better treatments and facilities become available. Until mental illness is taken as seriously as, say, heart disease, diabetes, or even cancer, I fear we won't see progress and people will continue to lose their lives to these illnesses.

 

I don’t know how to affect change to our mental health community, but I hope that telling my story will raise awareness. It’s a start.

lost inside

The phrase "when depression hits" came to mind a few moments ago, and I decided to sit down at the laptop and write, which I rarely do, despite the thoughts that constantly swarm inside my mind. The thing about depression, though, is that more often than not, it doesn't "hit" at all. It creeps up on you, and if it isn't your first battle, you either start making excuses as to why it's not, in fact, "happening again," or you find comfort in it. I realize this sounds absolutely ridiculous to anyone who hasn't been through it. The truth is, when depression shows up, to someone who has been through it a time or two (or five), while it's painful and soul crushing, it's also familiar. Sometimes, the familiar, even when it's the worst possible familiarity, can be comforting just because we understand it.

This last time around, however, depression really did HIT. The trigger was chemical. I'll try to keep the background brief: Celexa in doses over 40mg has been known to cause abnormal heart rhythms. This resulted in revised guidelines for Celexa a couple of years ago. I found out about this recently and since I was taking 60mg per day, at the time, I decided it was worth trying something new. If I have to go through a med change, might as well really give it a shot right? Ok, let's try Brintellix. Effective for treatment resistant people with low tolerance for side effects. Not effective for me.

I did a one month trial of a lower Celexa dose with Wellbutrin because insurance companies don't like to pay for expensive drugs if they don't have to. That wasn't effective enough. So then I got to try Brintellix. I gave it a solid month. I really wanted it to work.

Depression manifests differently for different people. I would venture to say that no two experiences are the same. For me, I often experience high levels of irritability and an extremely short fuse. I have had two major experiences where this was my dominant symptom. I have also had a bout of depression where it was all I could do to go to work and keep my job. Hell, it was all I could do to lift an arm to get the TV remote.

This time, though, it started with the irritability and impatience. The things that would set me off are still things that I might find mildly annoying, hurtful, frustrating, etc. on any other day. During the transition, when I was reducing Celexa while simultaneously increasing Brintellix, I started feeling pretty good. I thought this might actually work. Then I stopped the Celexa. That's when I became more and more fragile. The smallest thing unglued me. It would feel like electrical charges were racing through my veins. I would simultaneously have these bursts of anger.  I wanted to punch things, and throw things, and scream. Then, before long, I would start to cry, feeling so hopeless and incapable of doing even the most ordinary chore like house work.

I was supposed to start a new class six weeks ago. The pre-work was simply to read chapters and prepare notes/talking points for in-class discussions. I couldn't do it. I couldn't get through a paragraph without distraction or feeling overwhelmed. Then I would begin to think about all the work ahead for the next six weeks. I know I'm a strong student. I always have been. I give it my best shot, even when the class is less than fulfilling. I could not bring myself to get through those two chapters. The idea of going to class that first night seemed impossible. So, as much as it made me feel like a failure to do it, I withdrew from that particular session. I took the last six weeks off so I could get back to myself. I'm glad I did it but I have had mixed feelings about it, and I'm actually embarrassed to admit it here, but painting the picture of what mental illness really is takes precedence over my own little bit of shame. So there it is.

Depression is more than feeling sad. It's more than feeling tired. It's one of those things that seems so impossible to explain now that I'm on the other side of it. Of course, when I was in the throes of it, I thought about writing about it about 10 times, but couldn't bring myself to get up to do it.

As if the irritability and near total lack of energy isn't enough, there are also the thoughts in your head telling you you are not good enough, you are a failure; you are not worthy of love, respect; you can't even get out of bed sometimes. What kind of loser can't get up in the morning? Just get it together, already; You're about to be 33 years old, just be responsible and get to work on time and stop slacking. I mean work is like the one thing you are good at, it's not like you're ever going to find someone to spend your life with. And kids? Ha, like you can even handle raising a kid, you can barely take care of yourself. You would probably have panic attacks like all the time.

Do I believe some of those things about myself even when I'm well? Maybe on a bad day. Even when you know it's depression, it still seems so logical and real. Your brain just conjures up every negative thing you've ever thought about yourself and even some you have never thought of. And you can't get away from it. It's not like you can take a break from your brain.

That. That is depression.



p.s. Obviously, Brintellix was not the drug for me. That doesn't mean it doesn't work for others. I am in no way saying that it's not a good drug. I can't say what is or isn't right for anyone else out there. So, back on Celexa I went, only this time my doctor added Abilify. I'm actually feeling a little TOO good, with more energy than I have time to burn. So the dose might be a smidge high, but that's something I can deal with and experiment with using my doctor's guidance. I'll take too happy over feeling virtually incapacitated any day.

starting again

It's beyond time for me to resurrect this thing. A while back, I decided to rename the blog and I also changed the url... I wanted to feel like I could write about anything, not just the mental health stuff, though that piece of my life is still very important and I plan to continue to talk about it. Once in a while, though, there are other things that I think are important to discuss. I wanted to have a place to talk about those things as well.

However, today I actually do want to talk about the mental health stuff. Once in a while, I am reminded that sharing my story can make a difference. I frequently find myself thinking that my story isn't so bad, that other people have it worse. I don't know why I think that way. I have a tendency to be harder on myself than I have any business being. My negative self-talk tendencies are the biggest things that still hold me back, emotionally. I'm working on it though. I think I'll always have things I want to work on. Figuring out why I feel the way I feel is often what leads me to grow. So while it isn't always easy to get through, change and fighting against my natural mental tendencies are vital to keeping myself put together.

That leads me into the current state of things. I've been on Celexa for several years now. It is the best of the serotonin based drugs that I've experienced so far. Recently, though, I've had a couple of doctors tell me that my dose was higher than the revised recommendations from the FDA, because of abnormal heart rhythms in people on higher doses of Celexa... nothing to mess around with. So, I was going to try a new drug on the market, but there are other drugs my insurer wants me to try first (because Brintellix is hundreds of dollars for 30 days.... I won't get started on pharmaceutical costs...). Anyway, since I'd never been on Wellbutrin, I had to give it a shot to see if it would work. So now I'm taking a lower dose of Celexa with Wellbutrin AND Buspar as boosters. I mean, honestly. How many chemicals does it take for my brain to act right?! Ugh.

I'm on week 4 now, and so far it's not quite taking care of all of my symptoms. I feel a lot of what the professionals like to call "breakthrough symptoms" which basically means you still feel anxious and/or depressed even though you are taking meds for it.  In this particular situation, I'm feeling a lack of motivation and a loss of energy. This is the stuff that makes depression so debilitating.

It's not as intense as it has been at other times, which is good, but it's still there. Telling me to go take a nap on Saturday afternoon after sleeping ten hours on Friday night. My body isn't tired. My body is rested. My brain is telling it to sleep. It's not so easy to distinguish the two in the moment, though. It's not just about being sad. It's not a bad day, or a bad mood. It's inexplicable heaviness. Excessive sleepiness, even though you slept nine hours last night. It's the feeling that it doesn't matter, because you'll never really be happy anyway. These are all messages my mis-wired brain sends me. I feel less equipped to deal with depression because it's usually my secondary condition. I have battled anxiety much more often and more intensely over the 10 years that I have been working through mental health challenges. My anxiety is about 85% controlled right now, which is pretty good. Maybe even 90% on a good day. Just little breakthrough moments here and there. This depression stuff is rearing it's ugly head lately.

Something that I have heard for years and that I know to be true is the positive effect of exercise on the depressed/anxious mind. I'm terrible about exercise. I don't like doing it and I'm great at making excuses not to. Recently, a friend encouraged me to rejoin the gym. I was hesitant because I've been through this cycle before. It starts out great, then I'm stuck in a contract and paying for a gym I don't use. One would think the money aspect would motivate me to go, but so many times that has not been the case. Luckily, I was able to get in on an affordable month-to-month membership. I have only been a few times in the last couple of weeks since joining. What I have been doing, however, is pushing myself to use the nice treadmill I bought a year ago when I opt not to go to the gym. I don't go crazy, I'm going at a pretty slow pace, but it's exercise. It's movement. It's more than I'd be doing on the couch. And it does help. The people who really know me know that it must be true if I'm saying something positive about exercise ;) Seriously, though. Give it a shot if you don't already.

I'm working on pushing myself to move a little extra on most days. As it becomes routine, I'll push a little harder, be able to do a little more. I just have to keep trying. I think I've started to really doubt that I will ever truly feel great all of the time, but I try to believe it's still possible because depression sucks and it keeps me from living my life, so I keep fighting and trying new drugs and keep going to therapy. It's worth the fight to me. It's so easy to get discouraged, believe me, I know.

This is going to sound cliche, but it's really quite important to remind those of us fighting against mental disorders. If you are struggling, please remember you are not alone. It will get better, and it may get worse again too. Do not give up. Try a new med until you feel better. Don't settle for the first thing you try if it's not enough to let you be yourself again. Try therapy, keep trying until you find someone who helps you. Try online support groups, whatever it takes. Just don't stop fighting.

from 2013

Here is a post from a private journal that I wrote in 2013. Thought it was worth sharing.

I think if you have found someone to spend your life with, someone you love and can truly see forever with, you should celebrate that, every day. Life gets hard. Relationships get hard. People make mistakes, even when they love someone so much it hurts, and those mistakes can't be taken back. But they can be forgiven. Sometimes we pick the wrong people, and we want to believe in it, and it's not real. But once in a while, this miracle happens and a person finds that other person who just completes them. Does that mean they don't bicker or argue or disagree? Absolutely not. But it means they have an invaluable gift.

To have someone that is on your side, and will love you no matter how your body changes or your ideas change over the years. Someone that will help you wade through those changes, and find yourself time and again. To have someone to return that same love to. So many people take that for granted. So many people call it love when maybe it's just convenience. I don't know, I've been alone for a long time, and I truly don't know much. But what I do know, is this:

If you have found that person, you should dance with them every day if you can. Three minutes out of your day to just appreciate one another and be near each other, without worrying about finances, the economy, jobs, family, politics, etc.

It doesn't matter what song it is. Maybe it's "The Luckiest" by Ben Folds or "Through the Years" by Barry Manilow. Maybe it's a song no one has ever heard of. Maybe it's a song that everyone has heard of. It doesn't matter. We only have one shot at this life, and if you have someone to share your days with, someone you're truly connected to - you are blessed. So, dance in the kitchen while dinner is cooking. You never know if it's your last chance. Celebrate today.

If you have your penguin, you know. Go dance. And if you haven't found that person, or maybe found them and have lost them in some way, dance with them in your heart. Love is the best thing we have.

Who knows, maybe I'm just an idealistic romantic. I can't help it. I have the greatest example. My parents have been together for 30 years, and created this wonderful chaos that I call family. And I'm grateful and joyous and I know that no matter what happens, no matter who comes and goes, this family will always be there. And it was built from the love of two people. Two people that have seen each other through difficult emotional situations, life changes and struggles, loss, and disappointments and still support each other.

How could I possibly settle for anything less?

being brave and looking back

I haven't posted since my Harper post. It's amazing the impact one little girl had on the world, but even more amazing the impact she had on me. And I never even met her. I mentioned previously that Harper's anthem was "Brave" by Sara Bareilles. Sara is my favorite artist, hands down and that song has meant a lot to me since the first time I heard it. It holds so much more meaning now, and every time i hear it, I think of Harper and how brave she was. How much her memory is helping the fight against childhood cancer. And I think to myself, "if Harper could be brave, so can I." Whenever I struggle with bouts of anxiety, depression, med imbalance, etc. I try to remember that while there is no miracle cure, it's worth continuing to fight. Especially when I stop to realize where I was 6 years ago.

Actually, it was bravery that drove me to start this blog in the first place. I haven't kept up with it as much as I hoped to. That seems to be a general trend for me with writing. Especially when I do my best thinking before falling asleep. I always forget what I was going to write about (you writers out there know what I'm talking about).

I went to my 10 year college reunion this weekend and saw several of the people I spent most of those 4 years with. I had a lot more fun than I expected, and it was really good to reminisce and also hear about what people are up to now. Since Saturday night, I've been looking back a lot. Mostly, I've been vacillating between regrets and laughing hysterically about things that happened. I've been thinking about chances I never took, decisions I wish I hadn't made, and how I wasn't always the best person I could be to those who really mattered to me. I have also been remembering the beauty of having the college family I did. Those dorm days really take me back, especially having lived alone for so long. I have been looking back at my "blog" (live journal) that i kept back then. It's pretty cringe-worthy, but at the same time, I'm kind of glad to have it.

As I've been going through this roller coaster of emotion over the last couple of days, I've wondered why I am dwelling on the past, and why I can't just put things out of my mind. So many people out there seem to be able to compartmentalize (is that really a verb?) and leave the past in the past. I have never been able to do that. Of course, over time I have come to terms with the bad times and learned to appreciate them; but I never forget. And sometimes the thoughts are so present that I can't concentrate. I get pretty frustrated with it.

Then, I remembered that rapid and lingering thought processes are a big feature of OCD. I am lucky, as I don't have severe compulsions. I don't have severe anything when it comes to OCD and I am grateful for that. I've only had to deal with a few features of the disorder, and it's more an annoyance than anything. Sometimes, I do wish my brain would just stop for a minute, it can be emotionally intense when memories like that come back.

Back to my goal here. Telling stories about mental illness, and breaking the stigma. So, I've been meaning to blog for a while about mental health terminology. I frequently hear things that get under my skin. I thought I would share some of my thoughts... what are yours?

It is an extremely common misconception that Schizophrenia is the same as Dissociate Identity Disorder (previous identified at Multiple Personality Disorder). These are in no way the same disorder. Info from nami.org: http://www.nami.org/Learn-More/Mental-Health-Conditions

• Schizophrenia - symptoms include hallucinations (hearing voices, seeing things that are not there), delusions (false beliefs that remain unchanged in the face of facts or new ideas), emotional flatness or disconnectedness, poor memory, disorganized thoughts
• DID - dissociation refers to an involuntary escape from reality. for persons with DID, dissociation occurs between two or more alternative identities.

I think it is important to know the right terminology. Part of breaking the stigma is education. I see so many comments on the Internet about being "so OCD" or "so bipolar right now" - similarly I see people refer to themselves as "schizo" because they have contradictory personality traits or preferences. Frankly, it is irresponsible to the people who suffer every day from these disorders.

Know your terminology if you are going to use it. And don't refer to a person as their mental disorders - like "She is so OCD" or "She is bipolar" ... people are more than the chemicals that may or may not be imbalanced. It's considered appropriate (and respectful) to refer to someone as having a disorder "she has bipolar" or "he has OCD" 

There is your education for today. I encourage everyone to read stories on websites on nami.org and become more familiar with these disorders. It might not be something that affects your every day life, but chances are extremely high that it has or does affect someone you love. Mental Illness is very prevalent.

I want to see you be Brave

Today I'm taking a brief break from my normal posts (for which I know I am long overdue) and share a story that, despite its ending, fills me with hope and love.

A few years ago, when I began this blog, I intended to make an impact. To share my story in the hopes that at least one person would read it and see mental illness differently. That they would see a person who is outwardly successful and has built a life, although imperfect, for herself. To remind people that mental illness is everywhere, a day to day battle; and we need to stop treating it like a personal choice. To break the stigma in any way I can.

I chose this topic because it’s what I know. There are so many other issues that we need to break the stigma on… equality, for one. I’m hugely supportive (an ally, if you will) of the fight for equality, especially in marriage. I support it, but I have never been in that position. So I read others’ stories and do what I can to break the stigma.

Sometimes, though, things happen that aren’t because of hate, stigma, or mis-education. Things happen because they just happen.


Last Tuesday morning, December 30, 2014, Harper Alanna Wehneman moved on from her battle to, as many say, her forever home. She had battled cancer for 19 months, after being diagnosed with a Wilms' Tumor in May of 2013.

I didn’t actually know Harper. I work with her father, and remotely at that. But for the last 19 months, my family and I have followed Harper’s story, and have been so in awe of her strength and bravery. I know from her mother’s posts on her Caring Bridge site that there were so many things that Harper went through … allergic reactions to treatment meds, a severe fear of needles, and many infections throughout the process -- not to mention countless surgeries, procedures, and scans.


In June 2014, Harper was NED… No Evidence of Disease. There was a party. There was a celebration. Harper sang for everyone... "I want to see you be Brave"

Then, after her three-month scans, that ended, and a new fight began. A fierce fight. A brave fight.

Brave, by Sara Bareilles, became an anthem for Harper. You can read all about that here on her father Brian's blog. In fact, I encourage you to read Brian’s posts going back to May 2013. Read Harper’s journey. It may change you.

It has changed me. Today, in full support of Harper, we choose joy. We bravely choose joy. For Harper and all her family, we choose joy in the midst of sadness. Through the inevitable tears, we choose to remember her smile.

I share this today because Harper’s story has moved me. I want to do something about this monster, especially when it’s hitting kids. Harper didn’t get to live. There are a lot of things she won’t get to do on this Earth. While I believe that she will experience eternal beauty and peace, there are many of us left behind that will miss all she brought to this world. And many of us have the opportunity to do the things she won't.

So, today, push yourself. Not everyone has the option to choose joy at will. Those suffering from depression. Debilitating anxiety, or more severe mental disorders like schizophrenia and bipolar disorder… they are not always in control of their emotions. Some people don’t believe that, which is why we need to break the stigma and educate everyone we know.

But if you can, Choose Joy.

Let your words be anything but empty...
Say what you want to say
And let the words fall out
Honestly...

I WANT TO SEE YOU BE BRAVE.

Be Brave. Channel your inner Harper. Shine on.