Just... thanks.

I need people in my life like Em Pew. Like Kayla Edgel, like Andrew Rice. Like Emily Paulson, like Russell Davis, like Kelsea Kocherhans, like Clara Richardson,  Bailey Frampton, Daxton Glover, Celeste VanValkenburg, Harrison Fuller, Karen MacKay, Amy Miller, Miriam Edwards, Kimble Mahler, Stephen Brailsford,  Matthew Peterson,  Andralee Allen, Hailey Bennett. Jason Gibbons.  Mom. Dad.

I often forget that no matter where I am, I have someone I can call when I'm struggling. Someone who will see my hands shaking and quickened breathing, and envelop me in their arms. Someone who takes me by the shoulders in the midst of a panic attack, don't freak out when I slap them on accident (sorry, Andrew) and tell me I'm safe. That I'm not alone. I have so many someone's I can turn to in every circumstance, through thick and thin. Someone's I can support and comfort as well, who trusts me with their fears and insecurities. I truly hope they know how much I love and appreciate them.

Sometimes I feel invisible. Ignored. Lonely. This occurs because anxiety tells me no one loves me- because who would. Because someone who doesn't have a body and who wants everyone to be as miserable as he is tries every tactic possible to convince me that people hate me, that I'm worthless.

And when I finally open my eyes, I see you. I see the people supporting me from every side, even though many are struggling to stand themselves. I don't thank you as much as I should. I don't express to you what it means to me nearly enough. I am literally alive today because of friends, whom I consider family, like you.

From the bottom of my heart, through every cell and molecule and atom in my body, thank you. And I love you more than it's possible to describe. Please, don't forget that. Thank you for your hope. For your smiles. For everything.