Hi, My name is Emma Henly. I am 19. I love to write stories and have never gotten too old to watch the best of the Disney cartoons (the lion king mostly…and my new favorite, Tangled!). I love adventuring through thrift stores and finding wonderful items and getting that feeling that I am some sort of great unknown archaeologist and smiling at the cashier like somehow, she should congratulate me. Like she hadn’t walked by that item in particular millions of times and thought, “who in the world would buy that? They’d have to be crazy.”
So yes, to be honest, I am a little crazy. I love weird things, I talk to inanimate objects like they have feelings, and I still hug my favorite stuffed sheep when I go to bed…(much to the dismay of my boyfriend…but that’s another story). I get this shivering feeling all though my stomach when I see animals. pretty much of any kind. Dogs, cats, hamsters, bunnies, llamas, sheep…Especially sheep!!! haha. But most of all, SLOTHS!!! If my apartment was burning and I could only salvage one item from the apartment (apart of course from Truffles the sheep) it would definitely be my favorite Jacques Brel record with the song Le Moribond on it! There really is nothing like a day of painting in the sunshine listening to that song over and over again. And singing it for everyone who comes by and seeing the looks on their faces…it’s kind of the same look my mom gives me when I ask her to listen to what I learned to play on my trumpet…I’m a work in progress.
So that’s me a lot of the time. An animal lover, a total tree hugger, a dreamer and writer of stories, and an aspiring musician…ok probably never going to happen. But anyhow, That’s me! But that’s not all of me. I also suffer from times of feeling very low in spirits. I have contemplated suicide an uncountable number of times, and tried only once. I cut my arm to help me feel things. I have fears that I can’t control that keep me paralyzed in my bed. I fear a man is coming to rape me, or that if I don’t stay true to certain compulsions my mother will be killed, or my dad will kill himself. suddenly during depressive episodes I can no longer remember the happy, bright, fun girl I really am. I can only see the dead, isolated hurting girl, who feels like no one could ever love her. I am writing this because it’s so helpful to be able to write out who you are. A friend of mine once when I was in a deep depression, wrote out everything she knew about me, and every fun experience we had had together and then at the bottom it said “this doesn’t change anything. This is a part of you. A wonderful part. You’ll get better and we will have more times of adventures. But for now, this is where you are. And that’s alright. You have everything inside of you. And I love this part of you too.”
I love this part of me too. It is hard, and I want to overcome the depression and the fear. But I’m not ashamed of it. It’s a part of me for now, and even when I am drowning in it, I know I’m beautiful.
I want anyone who is suffering with depression or anxiety disorders, or mood disorders, or anyone who has been abused in the past, or is the victim of abuse now. Anyone who feels abandoned, or unloved. Anyone who is suffering, please write it down here. Write out your story. Who you are. The different parts of you. Because reality is that everyone feels down sometimes, they scream, they make mistakes, and it doesn’t always look pretty, and they don’t always feel beautiful or worth anything. But they are. Always.
Please write your stories here.
Thank you so much.