A Simple Case of Hypocrisy

Written by Anna Kretchman (my younger sister)
Why are we okay with songs like "Shape of You" (by Ed Sheeran)? Why do we rage on about rape and abuse while jamming out to songs about objectifying people?
"Shape of You" came on at work the other day and I literally had to go on break and try not to just start sobbing. I couldn't get it out of my head for a good fifteen minutes.
You see, I know what it feels like to be seen more as a body than as a person. I know what happens when the "shape of" a person is the main focus. Nothing good.
So I cannot be okay with glorifying situations in songs, movies, etc. where sex is the main focus of a relationship. I can’t be okay with one night stands and “friends with benefits.” I can’t be okay with everyone being okay with these things.
Why do we all want someone to love us for who we are, and yet everything in the media shows us that it’s fine to just love someone’s body? Why is everyone so angry when someone is molested, when children are being raised listening to horrible messages set to catchy music? Oh wait, you mean it’s NOT okay to just want someone’s body? Then why is that a common theme in everything that we see and hear? Why is it becoming harder and harder to find anything “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy” in the media when we all are horrified by what the media is teaching the world to do?
I can personally say that I’ve experienced someone loving the “shape of me” above all else and let me tell you, it didn’t make me feel beautiful or sexy. It made me feel violated. It made me feel like I, me as a person, wasn’t enough. So pardon me if I’m not going to listen to all of the popular tunes on the radio with you.

A Lesson in Literature

I love getting lost in a good book.  Entering new worlds.  Going on epic adventures.  Feeling like I am someone else (got to love books written in the first person!).  Out of the dozens of books I have read in my 26 years on Earth, few have stayed with me.  I easily forget plot and characters.  But there are two books that will stay with me forever.  I could read them over and over again.  These books are Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli and The House of the Scorpion by Nancy Farmer.  Both books are aimed for a younger audience, middle school to early high school.
Milkweed follows a young boy in WWII Poland.  He finds himself in the Warsaw Ghetto, not knowing what is going on.  His innocent view of the world around him leaves the reader with an optimistic viewpoint of life.
The House of the Scorpion, which I am currently re-reading, is about a boy, Matteo, who finds out he is the clone of a wealthy drug lord.  An intense series of events eventually shows the reason behind Matteo's being 'born'.
The thing about these two books that really stand out to me is the childlike innocence of the main characters.  Horrible things are happening in the lives of these boys, but they somehow manage to find and hold on to the good things in life.
As an adult, I know I really struggle with seeing the good in the world.  Watching the news is terrifying!  Through reading books such as Milkweed and The House of the Scorpion, I am able to alter my perspective on things which, honestly, is much needed nowadays.   

Over Thinking Snow

I hate snow.  So much!  It's cold, it's wet, and it just gets in the way.  It's difficult to drive in.  Classes are cancelled, so your boss expects you to come in early.  Snow is awful.
This past week, however, after 2017's Snowstorm Stella, I learned to love snow again.  Well, maybe not love.  But I am enjoying it again.  Working with kids will do that to you.  Last time it snowed, one of the boys and I built a snowman.  Yesterday, all three boys and I went sledding.  Today, the five year old and I built a snow fort and did some more sledding. It took a child to show me that snow can still be fun.  It's amazing how points of views can change when it comes to people you care about.
Which brings me to over thinking snow.  Try to keep up.
Driving home from work today, I was thinking about the fun I had in the snow with the boys this week.  I was thinking about how I go the extra mile for them because I care about them.  Which got me wondering if I would go the extra mile for those I don't get along with.  I realized that I probably would not.
I wish to change that.  I was raised to treat everyone equally.  If someone is being mean to me, I still love them and show respect to them.  (I have this conversation with the five year old twice a week.)  I need to treat everyone as if I care about them.  Because I should care about them.  They are human, just like me.
So there you have it.  I've been enlightened by snow.

Who Am I?

When I think about all the things I do with my life, I make myself sound like the perfect individual who always keeps himself busy.  I have an awesome part-time job.  I'm taking an online class.  I am a Cub Scout leader.  I teach Primary (children's Sunday School).  I keep up with a weekly blog.  I make it seem as though I have my life under control.  This couldn't be farther from the truth.
At (nearly) 26-years old, I am pretty sure I have already gone through a mid-life crisis...multiple times.  I am now on my fourth Major change at school.  I often find myself wondering if I should just give up on school.  Is it really worth the money and stress?  I often think about quitting Cub Scouts.  What do the boys have to learn from me anyway?
Growing up, I was a quitter.  I quit sports.  I quit projects.  I had very low self efficacy.  As an adult, I see how that has affected my life.  It has always been easier for me to quit than to follow through.  When things get difficult, what is the point of going on?  Now I see that quitting is rarely the answer.  How am I to progress in life if I keep giving up?
I recently switched my Major from English Education to Physical/Occupational Therapy.  A lot of science classes are required.  After math, science is my least favorite subject.  But I got a B last semester in Biology.  I honestly didn't think that was possible.  Because of that B, my whole view on how to live my life has changed.  I never really thought that I could be whatever I wanted to be.  Now I know that anything is possible.  Through hard work and determination, I can reach my goals.  Now let's just hope this is the last time I change my Major.
As for the Cub Scouts, it's easy to lose patience when the boys don't listen and are jumping over the chairs and tables.  Let's play tag instead of listen to Philip!  That's my normal Wednesday night.  I gave up on the boys for a while.  Sure, I still went on Wednesdays.  I still attempted to teach them.  But it never seemed to work out for me.  But after being hired as a manny, I have learned how to better react to the boys, how to better teach them.  I am still struggling, but I finally have the boys participating.
The point I'm trying to make is to not judge others based on what you see or hear.  I try to hide the struggles in my life.  I want people to think that I am strong, that I truly am able to do all the things I do.  But maybe it's time to ask for help.  I shouldn't let life get me down when there are so many people around me willing to lift me up.
Who am I?  I'm Philip, manny, student, Cub Scout leader, blogger and future Physical/Occupational Therapist.  I am who I want to be.  A young man with flaws and much to learn.

Thank You!

I hit 1,000 views this week!  A big THANKS to all of you readers!  I appreciate all the positive feedback.  Please, feel free to share my posts.  I'm hoping to get another 1,000 views.  But this time, in less than 6 months.  My regularly posting certainly helps, but your support is what is important to me.  So go back through my blog and share what you like.  And there is anything you want me to talk about, leave a comment or message me.
Once again, thank you!

I Am a Cracked Pot

Read the title again.  I'm a cracked pot.  A pot with a crack in it.  Now that we've got that cleared up, let me explain myself.
At church this Sunday, one of the speakers told the following story:
(This is written in my words)
There was once a servant who was tasked with retrieving water every day.  Every morning, he would grab his pole and water pots and begin the trek to the water.  One of the water pots had a crack in it.  After retrieving the water, the servant would make his way back to his master's home, the cracked pot emptying ever so slowly.
One day on this trek, the cracked pot asked the servant a question.
"Why do you keep using me to retrieve water?" the cracked pot asked.  "I am cracked and I leak the water that is meant for your master."
The servant smiled and replied, "After we have retrieved the water, look down at the ground as we head back to the master's house."  The cracked pot did just this.  On the way back to the house, the cracked pot noticed flowers growing along the path.
Once the servant was home again, the cracked pot spoke up again.  "I do not understand," it said.  "I saw beautiful flowers, but that is all."
The servant gave another gentle smile and said "How do you think those flowers got there?  After I realized that you had a leak, I decided to plant flower seeds along the path on the side that I carry you.  Everyday, you water those seeds.  They are now the beautiful flowers that you saw today."

After hearing that story, I wondered what my "cracks" were.  I am not perfect.  Nobody is perfect.  We all have our flaws, or cracks.  My biggest flaw is most likely my anxiety disorder.  But instead of letting my disorder control my life, I take the reigns and make something good out of my problems.  Because of my anxiety, I feel that I am more patient.  I am kind.  (And humble, right?)  Acknowledging your flaws is an important step in overcoming them.  Once you have overcome your flaws, it will be easier to help others overcome their flaws, especially if they are similar to your own.  So go find your flaws.  You are a cracked pot.  Don't cover up your flaws.  And definitely don't make them worse! Build upon them.  Work on them.  Become a better you so you can help others become better.

Nothing of Importance

July 4th, 1776 was an important day for the United States.  It was the day that the Declaration of Independence was signed, a final act before the Revolutionary War.  The founding fathers wanted King George III to know that they had had enough.  They were starting their own country.
Meanwhile, over in England, King George III was (supposedly) writing in his journal.  (Upon further investigation, I have found that this story is false.)  The entry for that day was as follows:  'Nothing of importance happened today.'  King George didn't have a Facebook account.  Or Twitter.  Or even a gmail account.  He had to wait days, weeks, maybe even months to find out that something of importance did happen that day.
This story puts a new perspective on my life.  Nothing exciting or important has happened in my life in the past week or so.  But that doesn't mean that changes aren't being made elsewhere.  Life doesn't revolve around me, as much as I like to think it does.  It's hard to forget sometimes that other people have their own lives.
Look around you.  See the world around you.  If you ever feel like your journal entry for the day is going to be the same as King George's, find something to change that.  Make every day important.  Change someone's life.  Change your own life. Make every day worth living. Make every day important.

Living Life Unplugged(ish)

I have a flip phone.  There.  I said it.  I have a flip phone and I love it, despite getting teased about it by co-workers.  I know, it's the same kind of phone you had when you were in middle school.  Yes, it's the same phone your grandma uses.  So why am I using it?  I'll be 26-years old next month.  I'm still young, right?  Why am I using an "old fashioned" phone?  Simple answer:  Because it's available to me.
While everyone else is standing in line waiting to pay hundreds of dollars for the newest smart phone, I am at home, sleeping in my bed knowing that I am saving money by not upgrading.  Believe it or not, smart phones are not a necessity.  You can live your life without a smart phone.  All I need is something to call and text people with.  I don't need a hand held computer.  I don't plan on straining my eyes so I can watch my favorite shows on a six inch screen.  I want to enjoy what is going on around me.
As all my Facebook friends can probably tell you, I love memes.  I spend a lot of time on my computer just viewing and posting funny pictures and tagging friends.  Just imagine if I could do that from my phone.  I would have a lot of trouble focusing on the people around me.  I've seen how some people get sucked into the tiny, virtual world in their hands.  They are completely unaware of what is happening around them.  I don't want to be like that.
I also love the fact that I can drop my phone a dozen times, and nothing ever happens.  My screen in still intact.  And I can even fit my phone in my pocket.  I see people carrying their phones around because they have nowhere to put it.  I don't like carrying things around.  I like to have two hands free.  Most importantly, though, I can snap my phone shut.  I feel so invigorated when I end a conversation and then snap my phone shut!
Seriously, though, I really do think that having all the apps and features on smart phones is taking away from our humanity.  Take a look around you.  When I'm walking on campus I can usually count on my fingers the number of people not on their phones.  Everyone is walking while texting or googling or tweeting or Snapchatting.  Put the phone down and enjoy the world around you.  Have face to face conversations with your friends.  Try something new.  It truly saddens me to see everyone lost in their phones.
This is why I have a flip phone.  I don't want to be lost in a virtual world.  I want to experience the world around me, the good and the bad.  I want to experience life.

Related Article
Clayton, Nick. "Should you dump your smartphone for a flip-phone?" BBC. BBC, 21 Apr. 2016. Web. 9 Feb. 2017.

Stampler, Laura. "The Few, The Proud: The Millennials Who Still Use Flip Phones." Time. N.p., 18 Sept. 2014. Web. 8 Feb. 2017.  

Let's Just Tear Down the Statue of Liberty!

Did the title get your attention?  Good.  I don't actually want to tear down Lady Liberty, but it seems as though our great nation may be coming to this.  With all the controversy about President Trump's recent executive order banning travellers from certain countries, it seems as though we have forgotten what the Statue of Liberty stands for.  Time for a history lesson.
A man by the name of Edouard de Laboulaye, after witnessing the end of the American Civil War, wanted to bring his home nation of France closer to their ally the United States.  He proposed the construction of a monument to celebrate justice and liberty for all.  The Frenchman believed that the United States was a place where people were free to live whatever life they wanted.
Ten years later, de Laboulaye worked together with his sculptor friend Frederic Auguste Bartholdi to make his dream a reality.  Bartholdi was put in charge of sculpting and construction.  The United States was in charge of erecting a pedestal.  Everything was coming together nicely.  Until both the US and France realized they didn't have the funds to complete the statue.  After various forms of donations and fundraising, the Statue of Liberty was built and shipped to the United States.  Since then, Lady Liberty has greeted and welcomed foreigners into the Land of the Free.
Nearly 150 years later, the Statue of Liberty still stands.  But have Americans forgotten what she stands for?  People are being persecuted and turned away because their religion.  There is talk of a wall being built to keep out our southern neighbors.  Oh the irony!  One hundred and fifty years ago, our ancestors campaigned to raise money to build a monument to their freedom, to help them remember that we were all immigrants at one time.  Now, in the present, people are campaigning for a wall.  Taxes will most likely be raised in order to pay for the wall.  One hundred and fifty years isn't a long time.  But look what has become of us.  We went from a generation who was willing to allow others into their country to a generation concerned more about themselves than others.  So there you have it.  Let's tear down the Statue of Liberty.  It only seems fitting.

Works Cited
"Edouard de Laboulaye." National Park Service. National Park Service US Department of the Interior, n.d. Web. 2 Feb. 2017.

"Statue History." Liberty Ellis Foundation. N.p., 2017. Web. 31 Jan. 2017.

The Manny Diaries pt. 2

Did I mention how much I love my job as a manny?  This job is one of the greatest things to ever happen to me.   But, as I mentioned last week, it was a long wait.  Seven years of applying to various child care positions on care.com and rarely even getting a response.  Meanwhile, I hear my female friends and classmates talking all about their multiple nanny jobs.  That doesn't seem fair.  I hope to change this.
Male child care providers are not the norm, as I said last week.  There aren't many of us out there.  And the handful of us who are applying to jobs aren't getting much in return.  The best place for a manny to be is in a big city.  That's where all the jobs are, where people are specifically looking for a manny.  I've checked, just out of curiosity.  But what about me?  I live in rural Pennsylvania with some suburban communities scattered around me.  There are always people looking for a child care provider.  New jobs are posted on care.com every day.  I'm not here to complain, though.  I'm here to tell you why you should consider hiring a man to watch your children. 
I'll be completely honest with you.  If you are the mother or father of a bunch of little girls, don't consider a manny.  I personally don't know what to do with girls.  I almost lost my mind playing My Little Pony with a girl I was babysitting once.  For a family of boys, though, a manny could be the perfect fit for your family.  In all my applications, I explain that all I want in life is to be looked up to.  I want to set a good example for the children (boys and girls) that surround me.  This is probably the number reason why a manny is a good idea.  Give your sons a good role model.  Dads and uncles can be great role models.  But most dads work all day.  And uncles only come to visit every once in awhile.  Your manny, though, spends a lot time with your kids.  That is his job, after all.  Find someone who can be a hero, or even just a big brother, to take care of your kids.
As I have learned with French Fry (see last week's post), men can be just as nurturing as women.  After French Fry got used to me, he became very comfortable with expressing himself to me.  He is also a big cuddler.  Whether we are reading books or watching a movie, he loves it when I put my arm around him and "keep him warm", as he puts it.  To me, this is a sign that I am doing something right.  French Fry trusts me and looks up to me for protection, even if I'm just protecting him from the cold.
Are you considering a manny yet?  I hope so!  But you should still be cautious.  These are your children, after all.  Here are some tips on hiring the perfect child care provider, whether they be male or female.

Hiring Process

One of the biggest concerns for parents, as it should be, is the safety of their children.  There are a few measures you can take in ensuring their safety.  First is interviewing likely candidates and getting to know them.  Don't just ask them about what they bring to the job.  Ask them about who they are.  What do they enjoy doing with their free time?  This can tell you a lot about a person.
Don't be afraid to ask for references.  These are your children we're talking about.  Most people I've worked with want between two or three references.  By talking with someone's friends or past customers, you can learn what to expect from the individual you are considering to hire.  What did they leave out during the interview?
And finally, ask for a background check.  This isn't common knowledge, but it is something you can do.  Have the candidate take the state level child abuse clearances.  Or, if you are looking for someone through a website (such as care.com), you can usually request a background check through the website.  Care.com is really good about that.
So next time you're in the market for a child care provider, even if it's just for a date night, don't discount the men.  Just follow the hiring process I have outlined for you, get to know your candidates, and don't be afraid to go against the norm.   

The Manny Diaries: Give the Guy a Chance

When I was fresh out of high school, my dream was go to college, meet a nice girl, eventually get married and have kids.  And my dream job for while I was in college was to be a manny.  "What's a manny?"  It's okay.  I get that a lot.  A manny is a male nanny.  "Oh, so you take care of old people?"  I get that a lot too.  No.  I take care of children.  This is usually followed by an awkward pause and then "Oh.  Cool."  People don't seem to be able to comprehend the fact that a young man such as myself would be willing to spend five days a week with someone else's children.  It honestly doesn't matter whose kids I'm watching.  I just enjoy spending time with people who act their age.
Seven years after graduating high school, I finally got a job as a manny.  And I couldn't be happier.  I take care of three high-energy boys (12-,10-,and 5-years old) who are a blast to be around.  I've been with them for almost three months now.  And in those three months, I have learned a lot.   I've learned something from each of the boys.

Lessons from a 12-year old

The 12-year old is somewhat of a mystery to me.  Just when I think I've got him figured out, he surprises me with something new.  Some days, he acts like your average pre-teen boy.  Other days, he's a moody 17-year old that hasn't hit puberty yet.  What I have learned from him is that I need to just be me.  Some days, I'm a boring 25-year old adult who worries too much about life.  Other days, I'm a bright and cheerful 25-year old who doesn't let life get him down.  I've also learned how to be strict, but still be fun.  I get the feeling some days that the 12-year old wants nothing to do with me just to find us having a deep conversation about global warming the next day.  Strict, but fun.  Disciplinarian and friend.

Lessons from a 10-year old

This kid makes stories out of anything.  I'm not quite sure what to believe.  He also has a difficult time focusing.  And he simply loves to yell at his little brother. If the 10-year old has taught me anything, it's how to deal with him as an idividual.  Every child is unique, so you need different tactics.  The 10-year old has a good sense of humor.  One day, after screaming at his little brother, I followed the 10-year old to his bedroom for a chat.

Me:  You know what I hate?

10-year old: What?

Me:  Zucchini

10-year old gives me confused, if not amused, glance.

Me:  You know what else I hate?

10-year old:  What?

Me:  Yelling.

And we had a great conversation on how to speak to younger brother.  By starting out with humor, I was able to capture the 10-year old's attention.  You have to know your enemy before you can defeat them.  Kind of dark, I know, but it's the best analogy I could think of.

Lessons from a 5-year old

The 5-year old and I are pretty much best friends.  He goes to preschool everyday for two hours.  After that, we get to spend the day together.  What I've learned from him is that, if you (a male) really try, you can, contrary to popular belief, be a nurturer.  The 5-year old, or French Fry, as I call him, is very high energy.  He goes from playing with cars to watching tv to raiding the refrigerator to reading a book all in the blink of an eye.  I'm usually just left really confused and a little dizzy.  But the one thing that these various activities have in common is:  me.  If he plays with cars, so do I.  When he's watching tv, he always sits next to me and insists on using my arm as a pillow.  When he's raiding the fridge, it's usually because he needs me to get something for him.  And when he's reading a book, he's always right at my side ready to cozy up with the book.  French Fry has taught me that just because I'm a man doesn't mean I'm incapable of caring for a child or showing emotion.  I believe that to be the best example I can be, I need to be soft and gentle.  Everyone wants their big, tough manly man.  Where is there any room for the kind and gentle men?

I am truly loving being a manny.  This job was worth the seven year wait.  But I often wonder why it took me so long to get this job.  I've been applying to child care jobs since before I graduated high school, but without much luck.  I had some occasional weekend/date night jobs, but that was about it.  But going back to people's responses to finding out what I do for a living, I now see why it took so long to get a manny job.  It's not the norm.  Men should be out working with their hands, building things, fixing cars.  I'm actually a bit of a germaphobe.  I like my hands clean, especially under the nails.  So my question is this:  Is my being a manny frowned upon by society?  I kind of think so.  For the longest time women couldn't do certain jobs because they were jobs best suited for men.  We as a society broke that mold.  Can we break this one also?

A Letter to My Fellow Americans

Dear Fellow Americans,
Congratulations on electing your 45th president!  This sure was a nasty election season, but I hope you made the right choice.  I like to think positively, to think that Donald Trump will do well in his four years at the White House.  I didn't vote for him.  I don't agree with anything he stands for.  But I wish him well.

Having said that, I now want to focus on us, the people of the United States of America.  We all come from various backgrounds, different walks of life, and differing beliefs.  That is what the United States means to me.  Various and different.  Ever changing.  I don't always agree with the changes, but sometimes change needs to happen.

After this election, many people, myself included, were feeling quite unsettled.  I read of people who cried themselves to sleep.  Friends who had to comfort and reassure their children, telling them everything would be all right.  What is everyone so worried about?  Don't they know that the president can't just do anything they want?

People aren't afraid of the newly elected Donald Trump.  They are afraid of the people who voted for him.  Who supported and endorsed him.  Here's why.  Trump was very outspoken during his candidacy.  He accused Mexican immigrants of being drug dealers and rapists.  He said that we need to make vetting for Syrian immigrants more difficult.  He said rude and hurtful things about women.  The people supporting him agreed with what he was saying.  Trump is not the problem.  The people who supported him are.

(On a side note, there are people who voted for Trump who did not agree with everything he said.  They voted for Trump because of the people he chose to work with.  I don't see this as support.)

Support is blindly following and agreeing with everything Trump says and does.  Many people are worried for the future because they believe things are going to go backwards.  No more rights for the LGBT community is one of the greatest fears I have seen so far.  Although I may not support the LGBT community, it doesn't mean I want their rights taken away.  Everyone should have the freedom to choose how they want to live their lives.

That was just an example of the fear people are feeling at this time.  But knowing that family and friends voted for someone who will fight to take away your rights is what scares people most.

My message to all the American citizens is to not be afraid.  Don't stop fighting for what you believe in.  Whether you are for or against something, don't give up the battle.  You still have the right to choose.  Nothing was taken away from you.  The most important thing to do right now is to accept that not everyone thinks the same way you do.  And respect that.  Trump might be able to make this country great again, but not without us.  So change the name on your signs and hats and pins.  Mine would say 'Philip: Make America Great Again'.  Because that's how things should be.

Sincerely,
Philip

I Am Not My Body: My Story

I am locked in a dark place, nowhere to turn, surrounded by demons. All I want is a glimmer of light, to see what is around me. But how do I escape? Where do I find light in a world where darkness rules? I am afraid for my life, waiting for the worst to happen. This may sound like the opening to a horror novel, but what I am describing is real. These feelings run through my mind on a weekly, if not daily, basis. What am I afraid of? Life itself.

Let's back up a little bit, to when I was seven years old. I didn't talk to anyone outside of my immediate family. Not my friends, my babysitter, not even my grandparents. These were all very friendly people. Why wouldn't I talk to them? Wrong question. Why couldn't I talk to them. I could hardly stop talking when it was just my siblings, parents, and me. The ability was there, but was the desire there?

That summer, at seven years old, my mom dragged me to Johns Hopkins for a study on generalized anxiety disorders, which is where I was diagnosed with selective mutism. Selective mutism is one of many forms of an anxiety disorder. The thing is, it is not selective. To select something means to choose something. I didn't ask to not talk to people. The desire to communicate was very strong, in fact. But something inside of me was telling me to keep silent. That's where the anxiety comes into play. My mind was telling me that it was wrong to talk. My seven year old brain accepted that without question.

As I'm sure you are all aware, the brain is a very important part of the body. Without it, one would not be able to feel, think, react. But when people think of mental disorders, they say it's just a bunch of garbage. Or that it is something one can get over. It will go away with time. You can't get over a mental disorder, but you can get through one.  For me, it took years of psychiatrists, therapists, and medications to get where I am now. I went from being a little boy afraid of his own voice to a man who has worked various customer service jobs, teaches Sunday school and Cub Scouts, and absolutely loves meeting new people.  

But what happens now? I am still on medication. I still see a psychiatrist. What has changed? Me. I have changed. I now understand that I can be what I want to be, to not be afraid. I will not be constrained because a part of my body tells me to shut up and hide. Don't get me wrong. The anxiety is still there. The fear still tries to manifest itself, but I push it back into the dark corners of my mind where it belongs.

This topic has become very important to me. In the past, it was easy for me to accept that I was different. While everyone else was up on their feet dancing, I was the wallflower trying to avoid eye contact. I'm still a wallflower, but I now beg for eye contact. I justified everything I did by telling myself it was normal for someone with anxiety to act in such ways, to hide and remain silent. But I am not anxiety. I am a 25-year old college student working to afford gas, just like the guy next door, or the girl down the road. My body tries to tell me what to be, but I am not my body. I am me.