I learned something new today. My therapist thinks that I have BDD (Body Dysmorphic Disorder). The definition on the internet states “BDD is a body-image disorder characterized by persistent and intrusive preoccupations with an imagined or slight defect in one's appearance. People with BDD can dislike any part of their body, although they often find fault with their hair, skin, nose, chest, or stomach.” I was blown away by this definition because it described me perfectly. I always knew I had anxiety but I didn't know there was such a specific form of it. Knowing this really opened my eyes because I was never able to fully relate to others that had anxiety. Sure, they knew all about the heart racing, panic attacks, lack of appetite and insomnia but their obsessiveness with their image was never their trigger. In some ways, I feel better knowing that there is a disroder that fits me exactly because it means that I'm not crazy; I'm not alone. If doctors labeled this obessiveness as BDD then it must mean a whole lot of other people must be suffering from it. This comforts me somewhat. Maybe since I am now armed with this knowledge I can soothe myself easier knowing that what I'm fixating on is either an illusion or an overexaggeration of my imagination. I have a long road to recovery but I am grateful to God every day that I am slowly making progress. I know I will always have my bad days but my hope is that they will start to be less frequent. No matter how difficult things get for me in the future, I want to remember that I have already overcame a lot and I will continue to overcome. I am a fighter. And I deserve happiness.

Deep in the woods and far from the sun, I searched for broken pieces, long forgotten down the line. Overflowed but empty, hollow trees were passing by, waiting for the sun to light their holes beneath the ground and sky. Trembling noises restlessness roving like flames in the air, moving around the broken pieces which I left along the way. None to be seen, and none to be heard, but only broken pieces screaming louder than my raging thoughts. Little did I know that those broken pieces were never to be found, for they were deeply rooted in the corner of my eyes.

The pen and a writing pad in the hands of a knowledgeable soul has the ability to transform many years of continued moral decadence and bring to the spotlight,different ways of achieving set out moral,economic,social and financial aims. Hey,it's mightier that which cuts out ignorance, destroys hate and replaces it with love. Hope to one,Hope to all!!!