Invisible

Last night, I suddenly just felt like drawing. I got a sudden rush of inspiration. The three and a half hours that I spent on this drawing gives me so much pain. It went by in a flash, and I realized how much this topic means to me. The picture has a story. I spent an hour and a half putting that story onto paper. It was so worth it. Although I have incredible pain in my neck today, I believe that this inspiration was from God. These issues are real, they're not just a few people anymore. We need to come out from under the rock we've so carefully placed ourselves and do something about it. Go out and share the love that God has so graciously given you.

This story may be triggering, depending where you are in your life. PLEASE if you find it triggering, do not continue reading. Go for a walk, listen to music, talk to someone, do anything to distract yourself. The reason I am posting this is so that people who do not realize how big of an issue this is can see it. I love you all.
*This story is purely fiction, based on real problems. I would not wish any of the things in this story on my worst enemy. If you're dealing with any of this, talk to me, talk to a friend, talk to someone. We're here for you, we'll love you, we'll never give up on you.*

Miss Perfect

"I was the girl that everyone liked. I was the perfect daughter, got perfect grades and was every one's friend. I had super model good looks. My boyfriend was Mr. Popular. Mr. Popular and Miss Perfect. Who wouldn't want my life, right? Wrong.
No one understands. They just don't get it. I'm so broken. How could I get out of this trap I'd gotten stuck in? I wish everyone would drop their expectations for me. Life would be so much easier...
My parents had always had high expectations. They taught me from a very young age that to be successful, you had to be liked and you had to work hard. So that's what I did. It started when I was twelve. I desired to please everyone. I pushed myself to talk to everyone, the people I liked and disliked, the people who scared me and comforted me. I had my group just like everyone else, but the difference was that everyone wanted to talk to me. They wanted to hang out with me, be my friend, date me, get help with homework. I was one of the smartest in my grade. If I didn't understand something, I would spend my afternoons, evenings and sometimes nights studying and researching. Coffee became my best friend. No one could tell how tired I was, and I was fine with keeping it to myself. It seemed harmless at the time, and my parents were impressed with my success. That's all that matters, right?
When I was thirteen, I had my first boyfriend. We had so much fun. We would go swimming, play baseball, watch movies, talk for hours on the phone. We were the perfect couple.
When we hit high school a year later, he went on to play football. He turned into Mr. Popular. And of course, I became a cheerleader. When I turned fourteen, things started to change. For my whole life I had chocolate brown hair. I was ready for a change, so I dyed my hair blonde. Everyone loved it, and it went along with my bubbly, go-get-'em attitude. That's not the only thing that changed. All of a sudden, I was growing. I got taller, and heavier, and curvier. It all seemed to happen at one time, so now I had the "perfect body", whatever that is. I learned how to do my hair and makeup just the way I wanted it. I had people coming up to me to ask me if I had considered modeling. I was flattered, but it made me self conscious at the same time.
The first couple of months of high school were great, everything going according to plan. But my life came crashing down on me just before Christmas. My parents, the perfect couple, were getting a divorce. I had been too busy to notice the fighting. Always doing school work or cheer leading or hanging out with my boyfriend. I should have noticed it. I could have done something to fix it...but I was okay. Really. I got over it. I stayed with my mom while my dad moved across town. My mom started getting really stressed out which made her strict. Her stress made my stress level go up. She expected me to be better than I had been before. To do better in school, have more friends, get a job.
Doing dishes one day, I had picked up a knife at the wrong end, slashing my hand open. Instead of cleaning myself up or telling someone, I just watched the blood drip down my fingers. I finally felt relaxed. So a week later, when I just didn't seem to have enough time in a day, I decided to try it again. I mean, it had worked the first time, so why not? I took a knife and ran it along my leg. It would be easy to explain. "I ran into a nail sticking out of a wall." Easy as pie. It felt so good that soon I was doing it once a week. It released all the stress that had built up inside of me.
My boyfriend started to get bored in our relationship. He wanted to try new things. So instead of going swimming, we would make out. But that wasn't enough for him. I couldn't bear to lose him. I loved him so much. We'd been together for a year already, it was meant to be, right?
He was so angry with me one day for being a "goody two shoes". So I gave in. I lost my virginity in order to win him back. I wasn't ready, but it kept him happy.
Things started to get too tense with my mom, so after two months of living with my mom, I moved in with my dad. He was so easy-going with rules, and he was always working. I could do whatever I wanted, I had the house to myself more often than not.
My boyfriend started to come over frequently because we could be alone at my house. He was under a lot of stress from school, and I understood that, so when he took it out on me, I just waited for the storm to pass. He would come over, pacing and yelling. He would get so angry sometimes that he would punch the wall. A few times later, that wall became me. Once he realized what he had done, he was all hugs and kisses. He would apologize and force make-up sex.After a while, I expected it. There was no more going out to games or watching movies. That was all history. I had all the excuses to explain the black eyes and bruised arms. No one dug any deep than my excuse. I was perfectly fine with that.
I quit cheer leading to be able to hide the bruises. No one asked for an explanation. I noticed myself starting to gain weight from lack of exercise. I got frustrated, so I stopped snacking throughout the day. That wasn't enough, so I exercised constantly, ignoring the pain. That still didn't make me happy, so I stopped eating all together. If my dad came home, I would pick at my food, so he didn't ask any questions. Every morning I would hop on the scale, where I knew the number would determine my mood for the day. No one asked why I was dropping weight so quickly, and I was fine with that.
Just before school ended, I found out that I was pregnant. I panicked. This was not my plan, I didn't want a baby this young. It was all wrong. That afternoon I got an abortion. No one knew about the baby but me. I got home and cut my leg seventeen times. I just wanted the guilt to go away. No amount of tears or blood could fix what I had done. I started dreaming about my baby. I couldn't seem to lift the weight of depression off of my shoulders.
I tried to distract myself. I decided it was time for a change. I dyed my hair black. I pierced my belly button, then my eyebrow, then my lip. The cutting got worse. By now, it was every day, several times a day. I stopped going to school. Instead I slept all day and cried all night. No one asked about me. No one cared.
My boyfriend came over one day, handed me a package of drugs and told me to be happy already. I did the drugs and we went through our usual routine of beatings and make-up sex. Every time he came over, he brought drugs with him. Beatings, drugs, sex. This was a normal day for me now.
One night, just a few months before school was done, he came over drunk, angry at me and the world for everything imaginable. He brought two of his buddies with him, also drunk. They cornered me and gave me the worst beating I had ever had. There was blood everywhere. They all raped me that night and left me in a crying, bloody heap on the floor. This was the only night I wished my dad would come home and save me. Once they left, I cried all night, mascara staining my face. I made cut after cut into my bruised body. Why wouldn't the pain just go away? I finally fell asleep.
I woke up, but the pain was still there. I decided I couldn't take it anymore. No one loved me, I had no future, I was worthless. I had to end my life. It was the only way out. I took a bottle of pills out of the cabinet, it would all be over soon. At the raw age of fifteen, I was finished. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
All of a sudden, there was knocking on my door. I quickly pulled on a hoodie to hide my battered body and went to answer the frantic knocking. No one was there. I found a letter taped to the door. "Sophia" was written in neat writing on the envelope. I took it to my room, ripped it open and started reading. This is what it said:

My Dearest Sophia,
I love you so much. I long for you to see my open arms and hear my loving voice. You've been avoiding me for so long, I miss the little girl who used to laugh and smile and talk to me. It hurts me so deeply to see you in so much pain. Please come back. I will lift your burdens from you. I will carry you. I will give you a brand new life. You don't have to live like this anymore. I want to make you new. This girl you are now is not who I made you to be. Please come back to me. I love you with all of my heart.
Your friend,
Jesus

I ran out of my house. I ran to the nearest church I could find and gave the youth pastor the letter. With tears streaming down my face, I cried, asking him what I was supposed to do. He replied, confused, with, "Sophia, sweetie, this is a blank sheet of paper." But I saw the words so clearly. This was when I knew that Jesus was real. I ran into his loving arms full force, no hesitation. He didn't lie to me, he never abandoned me.
I went to rehab for a year. I got my high school diploma, and now I'm working hard every day to get to where God wants me to be. It's been a hard ten years, but I'm not giving up. I'm fighting until the finish."
Jacob looked at me, tears in his eyes and reached for the red velvet box on the table. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring.
"Sophia, will you marry me?" He said for the second time.
"After everything I just told you, you still love me?" I asked him, wanting to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into.
"I have never loved you more."

I hope that, like me, you felt incredible pain reading this story and looking at this girl in the picture. I don't have to look at the rest of her body, I just need to look at her face. The pain on her face makes me want to pick her up and protect her from the rest of the world.
Let me tell you, there are so many people struggling with cutting, anorexia, drugs, abuse, neglect, everything imaginable. We need to do something. If you're going through this, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. And you are loved. I love you. There is no one in this world who is not loved by at least one person.
God is going to do incredible things with you. He loves you so much. Please, please run into his loving arms without hesitation.
God bless,
Ariel

Burn Out

You're not good enough. You deserved it. You can't do anything right. You need to do this for me. You're a slut. No one loves you. You're a failure. No one gives a crap about you. No one wants you here.
These were the thoughts running through my head tonight. And you know what? I believed every single one of them.
 I'm never good enough. Never. No matter how hard I try, I can't get it right. There's always something that someone can yell at me for.
I feel like I deserve to be punished. I deserve to be hurt. I deserve whatever bad things are/have happened to me. I deserve it.
No one loves you. I'm actually tearing up on this one. I don't have anything to say about this, it's self explanatory.
I feel like I can get a hundred percent on an assignment, and it's still not good enough. I can tell someone about something that happened that day, and I'm always in the wrong. I'm always a failure in the eyes of those around me.
When I'm upset about something, I know I need to talk to someone about it, but then I think, they don't care. No one gives a crap about my problems. Why would they? It's all pathetic stuff anyways, no one cares.
I'm ready to pick up and move out. Right now, I would have no problem with packing my stuff and leaving. I don't care, no one wants me here anyways. I can go somewhere that I will actually be wanted, appreciated and loved.
I'm always working. I am always freakin' working. I never get a freakin' break. Someone always wants me to do something for them. Whether it's chores, babysitting, cleaning, bake sales, work, help, whatever. I'm burnt out. I can't do it anymore. I can't, but I have no choice. I got myself into it. I don't know how my week fills up so quickly, how somehow by Tuesday, every single day is booked. Right now, I'm busy almost every single day in the following week. I never get a break.
I'm angry. I'm angry at the world, I'm angry at myself, I'm just angry. And for those of you who know me well, you know that when I'm angry, I'm aggressive. I'm such a freakin' aggressive person. When I'm pissed off, I want to listen to hardcore music. Give me August Burns Red, Disciple, Underoath, For Today, whatever. But don't you dare give me some bubble-gum-pop crap. I will rip your head off. If you know me well, you know that I love punching...people mostly. If I'm in a bad mood and you piss me off, my reflex is to punch you, hard. And it really has become a reflex. I need to punch something.
All at the same time, I need to go for a walk, cry, talk to someone, get out of the freakin' house, write. When I'm mad like this, I'm in a dangerous place. I was so mad today, just thinking, I started breathing so hard, my face got red, and I started washing the dishes at a very aggressive pace. I was just so mad, I just have to think about it. And that's the sign that I need to get out. But I can't. Like I said, I don't have any time to calm myself down, to compose myself. I have to do what everyone else wants me to do first, THEN I can take care of my own safety. It's sad when it gets to that point. Give me a break. Can you not see what's happening to me?
Another thing, if you ever think that you have the authority to tell me what to do, you better freakin' well think again. I am so tired of people telling me what to do. At work, my supervisor asks me to do whatever she needs done. At school, I'll listen to teachers. Why? Because it's their job to tell you what your job is. That's the way it's always worked. If my friends tell me what to do, you better bet that I'm going to do whatever the heck I want. If you tell me what to do, I will not listen to you. It's as simple as that. Don't tell me what to do. I'm tired of people treating me like an incompetent child. I'm fifteen. I organize bake sales, I raise money for people in need, I'm in a grade 11 course, I work instead of going to school because my course requires it, I work my butt off every single day of the week, I put other peoples needs before mine. If you think that I can't take care of myself, check again. If you think that I'm stupid, you better get over it. I'm done with being a door mat. I'm not someone you can just push around, so put that thought out of your head right now. I can take care of myself.
I'm going to crash, I'm going to burn out. I've worked so hard in the past months, it's all going to go down the drain if you don't start treating me properly or giving me a break every once in a while.
I know that if it wasn't for God, things would be so much different, and I thank him so much for everything he's allowed me to do. He is just awesome, and quite honestly, he's the only person I want to be with at this moment.
God bless,
Ariel

Perfect

Made a wrong turn

Once or twice

Dug my way out

Blood and fire
Bad decisions
That’s alright

Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood

Miss “no way it’s all good”

It didn’t slow me down

Mistaken

Always second guessing

Underestimated

Look, I’m still around…

Pretty, pretty please


This is me. I love who I am, will you love me for me too?



Don’t you ever, ever feel

Like your less than
Less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like your nothing
You are perfect to me
You’re so mean

When you talk

About yourself
You are wrong
Change the voices
In your head
Make them like you
Instead
So complicated
Look how big you’ll make it
Filled with so much hatred
Such a tired game
It’s enough
I’ve done all i can think of
Chased down all my demons
see you do same
Pretty, pretty please
Don’t you ever, ever feel
Like your less than
Less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please
If you ever, ever feel
Like your nothing
You are perfect to me
The world stares while i swallow the fear
The only thing i should be drinking is an ice cold beer
So cool in lying and I tried tried tried
But we tried too hard, it’s a waste of my time
Done looking for the critics, cuz they’re everywhere
They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that?
Why do I do that?
Why do I do that?
Yeah,
Ooh, oh, pretty pretty pretty,
Pretty pretty please don’t you ever ever feel
Like you’re less then, less than perfect
Pretty pretty please if you ever ever feel
Like you’re nothing you are perfect, to me
You’re perfect
You’re perfect
Pretty, pretty please don’t you ever ever feel like you’re less then, less than perfect
Pretty, pretty please if you ever ever feel like you’re nothing you are perfect to me

This song is to me. This song is to you. I feel like this song is just perfect.
Do you remember when you were little and you could never do anything right? You were always getting in trouble? So do I. When you fought with your mom constantly? So do I. When everyone tried to shape you into who they wanted you to be? So do I. When your body was never ever good enough? So do I. When you would do anything just to be like everyone else? So do I. When you made a mistake, people would never let you forget it? So do I. When you were pushed to your very limit? So do I. When you knew that things had to change? So do I. So do I...
This song is my life. This video is my life. It represents so many events in my life.
This image of beauty that the media forces on us, it's not right. It tears into us. We feel like we have to meet these perfect expectations.
Men, take your eyes off of the Hollywood expectation of girls. Guess what...we don't really look like that. I have spent two hours doing my hair and makeup, and once I was done, I cried because I didn't feel any more beautiful than when I had started. That expectation is unreachable. That expectation is what we're taught from when we're young. Look at the Disney princesses, they're flawless. Look at Barbie dolls, they're flawless. We're taught that we have to look like that. And you know what? We don't.
And girls, please know that you are flawless just the way you are. God does not make mistakes. He made you exactly how he wanted you. God doesn't do sloppy work. He just doesn't. Am I a hypocrite for saying this? Oh yeah, I am. But I'm trying, I'm trying really hard to know that I am beautiful.
In the song, you can tell that Pink is singing from her heart. You can tell in her voice. You can tell in her eyes in the video that she means what she is saying. She wants so much for every single girl to know that she is beautiful. Hollywood can make anything, but Hollywood is fake. Be real.
If a guy can't accept you for the way you look because he's looking for some Hollywood-perfected Barbie, then he's not worth it. Any man worth your heart will look at you and think that you're absolutely flawless, and he will love you endlessly.
Don't give up, it's all going to work out. I promise.
God bless,
Ariel

Monkeys or Robots?

It's time to stop being religious little monkeys, okay? Or robots, whichever you prefer. Yes, as a follower of God we are going to have guide lines, things that God tells us to do or not to do. But do you know why that is? Because he loves us and he knows what these things that he tells us not to do are going to do to us in the long run. He cares about our well being, Daddy knows best, he knows what he's doing and we definitely have to listen to him. But when it gets to the point where you think that you have to follow a bunch of rules about everything, even the littlest things, that's when it gets ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, we should definitely do everything God's way, not ours. But seriously guys? Don't get piercings, God doesn't like them. Don't get tattoos, they don't honor God. Don't tell jokes based on the bible, God hates that.
I have one thing and one thing only to say to you: SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And trust me, I mean it in the most respectful way possible, but I'm getting tired of it. Piercings, I see no problem with it. I mean, no, they don't glorify God in any way, unless you have a Jesus fish set of earrings or something. Honestly, I have no reason for piercings, so I'm not going to fight it. It's just vanity. But I do think that piercings are awesome. I am possibly going to get gauges, a lip ring, and many more, you know what? You can't stop me. I'm not religious, I really am not, I'm a follower of Christ, that's it, that's all. Tattoos. Okay, someone made a very good argument the other day, and you have all seen my argument in "Tick, Tick, Tick...". He said that at the core of mostly everything is good. Swears at the core are just words, but they are used in harsh ways and to hurt others. Sex is a gift from God at the core, but people abuse that gift. Tattoos at the core are just art work, but people use it for things that don't glorify God. Every single one of my tattoos has some significant meaning for me, and I can't think of any of them that don't have something to do with God. The very first one I'm getting is "WWJD?" on my left wrist because when I have that written there, I remember it, I remember to think before acting, and I would love to be more intentional with that, but sometimes I do forget. That will be my reminder that Jesus is my ultimate role model, that if he wouldn't do it, then neither should I. I'll give you a joke as an example:
An atheist was walking through the woods.

"What majestic trees"!
"What powerful rivers"!
"What beautiful animals"!
He said to himself.
As he was walking alongside the river, he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. He turned to look. He saw a 7-foot grizzly charge towards him. He ran as fast as he could up the path. He looked over his shoulder & saw that the bear was closing in on him.
He looked over his shoulder again, & the bear was even closer. He tripped & fell on the ground. He rolled over to pick himself up but saw that the bear was right On top of him, reaching for him with his left paw & raising his right paw to strike him. At that instant the Atheist cried out, "Oh my God!"
Time Stopped.
The bear froze.
The forest was still.
As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky. "You deny my existence for all these years, teach others I don't exist and even credit creation to cosmic accident." "Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament? Am I to count you as a believer"?
The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical of me to suddenly ask You to treat me as a Christian now, but perhaps You could make the BEAR a Christian"?
"Very Well," said the Voice.
The light went out. The sounds of the forest resumed. And the bear dropped his right paw, brought both paws together, bowed his head & spoke:
"Lord bless this food, which I am about to receive from thy bounty through Christ our Lord, Amen."

There ya go! Funny, right? I'm sure God laughed too, because it's exaggerated. We know that it wouldn't...or probably wouldn't...happen. GOD HAS A SENSE OF HUMOR. He's not boring. Not at all. We need to get over ourselves, honestly guys. If I would have thought that following God was a bunch of rules that we had to follow, I never would have given my life to him. But I know that it's not, and that's why I stay with him. I hate rules. They irritate me, maybe it's because I'm a teenager, maybe it's because I'm easily annoyed, I don't know. But I would not want to have to remember a bunch of rules just so that I could get into heaven. Most of the stuff is pretty common sense and everyone can do it, but you have to seek God with all your heart. He loves you and he just wants you to follow him with your whole being, not just some of it.
God bless,
Ariel