Road To Legacy

Jesus. Church. Go to service on Sundays and pay your ties and don't ever let someone see past your oversized sweater and suede ankle boots. All of that sounds so cliche but you know it's true. When I was going through the toughest part of my mental illness I was ashamed to call myself a Christian because of my depression. But what if I told you that Jesus gets us? He walked this earth for 33 years just so that He could one hundred percent get us when we cry out to Him in those 2 am hours. What if I told you that all He sees is a child that's just lost their way and needs to be held? In an article that I read recently on the The Spychiatry Resource named "Stigma and 7 Million American Christians with Depression" written by Len Lantz, he speaks about how mmany Christiains who suffer with the disorder. Even though Christianity is associated with lower Depression rates, it doesn't mean that everyone is going to be the same. I realised that I was depressed ver

Hey there on this insanely hot June afternoon. Let's talk about the sentence "no". Yes, it is a statement, a full sentence and doesn't need any explaining or definition. No in itself should be enough and should be respected. Lately, I've been learning the hard way, how to say no to people and not being taught or even learning how to say no at a young age has gotten me in a lot of trouble, and consequences happen with decisions, good or bad. Not saying no landed me in the Emergency Room on Saturday afternoon. After going to urgent care because I had passed out, they said that I needed to go to the ER so I went. Found out that my heartrate was in the 120s, I was dehydrated, and overly exhuasted. It gotten to the point that my body was under so much stress that it was shutting down little by little. It was a wake up call for me and I was thinking, these last few months have been so difficult with relationships, work, grad school, and so many other things. I realiz

It's been over a month since we last talked. So much has happened...too much. But sometimes for a glowstick to glow, it has to be shaken up and cracked. When a glowstick cracks to glow, it doesn't break, but it's broken just enough to see what's actually on the inside. That's currently where I'm at. Since 2020 when I started this blog, I told myself that I would be honest to anyone that would read and let them into my life a little at a time and maybe, just maybe, one might glean from my ever flowing wealth of experiences, stories, and anecdotes. A few months ago, it was the perfect storm. Think like a tornado, you have to have the right weather, temperature, wind speed, and humidity to create one. That's where I was. I was stabbed in the back by someone that I thought would never do that and created a cleft in my heart. Then, I went to the doctor and got a response that I didn't want. "Everything looks good." The doctor said," your thyr

What happened to get me to this place? I look around and know that I'm worth so much more, but yet I feel stuck in one place constantly spreading myself thin like butter that's quickly melting on a piece of fresh toast. I feel translucent, vulnerable...melted. These past few weeks have been hard and I just don't know how to describe it in a professional way, I guess. I hit a breaking point, I've supressed too much and I guess it's finally gotten to me. If you've read anything from my blog, I've mentioned being a people pleaser, that's who I am. I've always been that way, from a child to now- a people pleaser. I'm an overachiever, a perfectionist and someone who is so goal oriented and motivated and sometimes it really does bite me in the back. I was taking care of so many other people that I didn't feel my own cup. I was like a little girl playing make believe, pouring from a teapot into cups that wasn't full except for something that I

It's taken a while. A long while. In fact, I didn't even think I should even write about it because I didn't even think it was worth writing about. But, here I am, sitting here in my office, going back to relive a pretty hard time in my recent life. I gave up my Miss Southeastern Title almost a month ago. I thought I was ready, but as I stood there watching my farewell video and allowing the memories from the past thirteen months to flood through my brain, I would have fought tooth and nail for that title to still be mine. I broke down in front of hundreds of people hoping that my velvet green gown would distract from the clumping make up and quivering lip that was so unapologetically displayed. I cried taking off my crown for the last time, I put away my sash, not wanting to look at it ever again. I placed my crown on my book shelf and turned away, already surpressing that someone else was now Miss Southeastern. That Friday, I was okay. I kept myself pretty busy, working

  My name is Amanda and this is my story. Food and I have never really gotten along. In addition to being a severely picky eater, food was never really enjoyable for me. While the majority of the population treats food as a positive experience to spend time with friends and family, there are some people in the world who would rather avoid the hassle entirely. Guess which one I am? As I continued through high school and college, food got harder and my body image got worse. When my sophomore year of college came around, things were pretty rough. I had been diagnosed with anorexia and was seeing a therapist, dietician, and doctor. My friends and family knew I needed help, but they didn’t know what to do. The eating disorder voice was so loud. I spent the majority of each day thinking about food, or really how to avoid it. I stepped on a scale any chance I got, and couldn’t even think about my body without being disgusted. I had a goal weight in mind, and I was desperate to hit it. The v