Hey, my little jeeps!...yeah I'm just rolling with that name for you guys.
As you may or may not know, I've been having an extremely hard time lately.
First Sweet Kitten and Boy Toy were taken down by Wattpad because someone believed I stole their stories. They ended up realizing their mistake and trying to fix it which made it seem like there was a light at the end of the tunnel that was this awful week. But then, someone had to kick me while I was down. Someone ended up stealing Sweet Kitten, turning it into twincest fanfiction by changing the names.
Now, I've read my share of incest books in my life. But at this point in my life, I have no interest in writing something like that and the fact that this person took my characters I love and twisted them up like makes me feel even worse.
And people are continuing to read the stolen version of SK while believing this person wrote it.
Anyways, that's a rundown of this awful week.
But this week has also made me realize how many of you have my back. You actually care about me, or seem to, and that blows my mind.
I know I share a lot with you in my author notes, but I wanted to share one piece of me that I have yet to talk about with you guys in hopes that it will better explain what place I've been at this past week.
First, let me start of by saying that I have no friends. I'm not afraid to admit that and I'm not that bothered by it either. I talk to you guys on here and that's enough friendship for me. But more importantly, I have my characters.
They are everything to me. I'm sure most you who have created original characters can relate.
They're my babies. My friends. My family. And I don't care how stupid and pathetic that sounds.
I love them all to death.
But, what I really wanted to tell you guys was this...
I have bipolar disorder.
I have talked about it with very few of you so you may be surprised. I'm not ashamed about it. It's just who I am and I don't think any mental health issues are anything to be ashamed of. I just had no reason to tell you guys about it before. I mean, how would I even bring that up?
"Hey, guys! Hope you enjoyed about Danny and Elijah fucking! Btw I'm bipolar!"
Nope. Just wouldn't have worked.
I knew that the only way I would tell you guys is if I did this sort of rambling book thing, whatever this is.
So let me explain it a bit more.
I have struggled with my mental health since I was about twelve. Mainly when puberty was really hitting me.
Middle school started and I had extreme trouble going to school. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I just couldn't go. My mom didn't understand and was frustrated. She took me to the counselor at school and she asked questions like "was I being bullied?" and stuff like that.
I wasn't being bullied, I just couldn't go to school.
I would go through bouts of being fine going to school and then begging my mom to stay home, or faking sick which was always really obvious.
Eighth grade was a lot better than seventh grade for some reason and I was pretty successful with going to school that year.
And then high school came around and that is when things got really bad.
Again, I couldn't go to school. No matter how much my mom screamed at me to go, I couldn't. I just couldn't do it.
There were a few times she forced me and I bawled my eyes out on the way there.
I didn't understand this because I wasn't being bullied. There was no reason for me not to go.
One day in freshman year, after being missing from school for a day or two, my friend asked me "are you depressed?" And I remember this distinctly because no one had ever asked me that before. I got really defensive and said no because I didn't even understand what that meant at the time.
These problems with going to school continued. One time in freshman year, I refused to go to school and my mom said she was going to call the school and tell them that I was skipping. I didn't believe her, but she actually ended up doing it.
That was the first and only time your girl bluejeeps had ever been to detention. I felt seriously out of place. I was always the good, quiet kid. The one all the teachers liked. And I remember telling people "oh, well, I have detention after school today." And people's mouths hung open and they were like wtf? You? You have detention? Lol.
So I did the whole detention thing, but the going to school thing didn't really improve.
Fast forward to sophomore year and it was a lot of the same.
Fast forward to junior year and things are getting really bad.
I was a TA (if it's called something different in your state or country, it stands for teacher's assistant) for my Spanish teacher from the previous year. I really liked her a lot and at one point I remembered her asking if I was depressed.
This was the second time someone had asked me that and finally I just could ignore it anymore.
My mental state was at an all time low. I finally decided I needed help.
So I told my mom I wanted to see a therapist.
She quickly got me a therapist.
I was struggling with school still, trying to work things out with the therapist.
I think the therapist was trying to convince me I was getting better but I really wasn't.
I remember some of the last words she ever said to me were, "I think you're well enough to go back to school handle midterms." Or something like that.
And well...I never went back to school or back to that therapist ever again.
I told my mom I couldn't. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't handle school anymore.
We worked it out with a counselor at school so that I could sign up for an online program. The counselor asked all the teachers to give my final grades for the semester based on what they thought I deserved, so I ended up passing the semester with all As and Bs even though I didn't take the finals for the semester.
I started doing online school and I was much happier for awhile.
I was also seeing my doctor and trying to get on the right medication. He tried really hard to find what was right for me, I'll give him that.
So years went by. I was sixteen when I dropped out of high school. And I was almost eighteen when I started seeing my second therapist.
I really liked her. She was nice.
She was the first person who ever mentioned the possibility of me being bipolar. But because she wasn't a psychologist or a psychiatrist she couldn't diagnose me.
My primary doctor tried a lot of different meds. They worked for a little while until they just stopped working altogether.
I don't remember when I stopped seeing my second therapist because I have a really mad memory, but fast forward a couple years and now I'm twenty years old. (btw I managed to not graduate high school because I needed one more class to graduate, which I didn't take.)
My mom tells me that I have to start paying for my own meds and I'm already broke enough so I decide I don't really need them and stop taking them.
This then turns into the worst mania I've ever experienced.
Mania is basically a period of time when you're extremely overly happy, excited, impulsive, and may not act like yourself.
No one noticed that what I was doing was odd. They just thought I was happy now. And I thought I was happy too.
This parts baffles me to this day because I don't know what the hell was going on with me. I'm not a religious or spiritual person. Never have been. I didn't grow up going to church and my parents never talked about God with me, so it just wasn't apart of my life.
But during this mania, I started to believe in angels and powers of crystals. With the help of someone else I believed I was also an angel stuck in a human body. I came to believe that I may be able to heal people with basically my mind.
Now, does this sound like your good ol RIBJ? Fuck no. And it is literally crazy to me now and I cringe just thinking about it.
It became a huge part of my life. I was even convinced that if I meditated I could talk to angels. Thank God I never actually heard any of them talk to me lol. I feel like I would be diagnosed with something different if that happened.
But after this mania eventually ended, I slowly fell into the deepest, darkest depression I had ever gone through.
Trigger warning here:
I thought about suicide every single day, almost all day.
I don't want to dwell on this part because it isn't something I like to think about.
I struggled for so long.
It was really really bad. I tried to keep fighting.
And eventually, my psychiatrist that I had at the time realized that I was bipolar and put me on the right meds.
That was when I was twenty-one. I'm twenty-five now and have never been better. Last year I finally got my GED and now I'm in college. Things have been going extremely well.
Well until this whole week happened.
As I was writing this little rambling mess, the person who stole my story finally replied to my messages. They basically said that they didn't steal my story (even though they stole it word for word). They then asked what I expected them to do and I said fucking take it down, what else? They then said they still had chapters four and five to post. They were very brave and unapologetic. They clearly weren't going to do anything about it. So I guess they've made their bed, now they'll lie in it.
When I get my stories back. I will not be posting anymore Sweet Kitten. I won't allow them to steal anymore of my chapters.
I think you guys will understand. I'm not sure what's going to happen with SK, but something will happen with it. I'm just going to protect my story with everything I've got. It's the only thing I can do. I care too much about this story to have someone take it away from me.
They also said I was really weak.
I kind of laughed at that.
Weak? That's your insult? I'm not afraid of being weak.
Anyways, they'll get what's coming to them. And they can't copy anymore chapters when I don't post anymore, so sucks to be them I guess? Don't know how they're going to continue it.
I don't think you guys should harass them anymore because I don't want you guys to be the ones to end up in trouble. This will work itself out eventually, I have to believe that.
And besides, I may be weak sometimes but writing all this out and talking about my mental health has made me feel ten times stronger.
I have you guys and I can make it through. I know I can.
I've been struggling a lot lately. This past week has been hell. I've been reminded of how bad I felt during that really dark time in my life.
But I'm going to persevere. I have a lot of other stories you guys love and I'm going to keep going with those. And I have plenty more ideas to come out with too. You haven't seen the last of Max, Alek, Clay, and Erik. They'll come back eventually but for now, I'm going to keep them safe. They're my babies. And I hope you understand.
I also hope you liked learning a little bit more about my past.
I love you guys. I really do.
And I hope you believe that.
Let me know if there's anything you would like me to talk about next.
I hope this weird book thing will be another way I can connect with you guys. I want you to know that no matter how many followers I have, I will always try to connect with you. You guys mean a lot to me.
I'm having a hard time replying to messages on my message board because I really don't want to dwell on my pain any longer. So I'm sorry if you left a message and I didn't reply. I will be replying to comment on this chapter thing lol, so if you want to chat, come chat with me!
You can tell me your own mental health journey if you feel comfortable. And if you're struggling right now, just know that it gets better. That may be cheesy, but I don't care. I truly believe things will get better. As long as you keep fighting, things will get better.
Love you guys.
—Blue