Revelations

Theme: Suffering from a lack of self-esteem makes it difficult for one to express their negative emotions and trauma to another person, because that person fears that they would be misunderstood or belittled.

Revelations

He awoke this morning to his cellphone, which was vibrating on the windowsill beside his head. Normally, a teenager would sleep in and relax on their day off from school. However, Eric Joad groaned in misery, rolling over and covering himself with his blanket, hiding his head beneath the covers. Despite just waking up, he already wanted this day to end. Eric deeply regretted his decision from last night. He made a mistake. He did not really mean to reply "yes" to her message on Instagram, asking to meet up with him today. His finger slipped when replying, an honest mistake. He really just wanted to be left alone, like usual. Minimal interaction throughout the day makes him feel better.

In his defense, Eric had no personal vendetta with his friend. Eric has always liked Leah because she was typically nice and talked to him occasionally. She was unlike most of the girls at Woodside Middle School, who were either annoying or were never really social around him. The other girls were not all mean, but they just did not seem to understand Eric's unusual quietness and lack of interest in almost anything. He was the complete opposite of most of the guys in his class too. They were all into sports or being douchebags, which he was not interested in. Despite all his uniqueness, none of it attracted much attention to him. But he did not like attention anyway.

However, Eric was just not in the mood to hang out with his friends anymore. In fact, he has not been in the mood for a few weeks at this point. And this mood has gotten worse for him, everyday was just getting worse and worse, and he did not know how to explain it. But, he just pretends to be normal and fine, when he really is not. He had not slept well in for the entirety of the school year. And recently, he had found it difficult to sleep. He constantly stares at the ceiling, lying wide awake, for hours, every single night. As a result of his inability to sleep, he has pulled several all-nighters- none were productive. His lack of sleep results in his bad habits. He is constantly drinking Dr. Pepper and nitro-infused coffee for caffeine like water almost everyday at school. He was not eating as much though.

The problem that is challenging Eric is the fact that he has never been in a serious relationship with a girl. "She probably just wanted to hang out because she hasn't seen me in over two years..." But, Eric might have been overthinking the context of the text message from last night, which is not shocking whatsoever."Well- we've sent each other text messages- sometimes...but that doesn't really count... does it? Probably not...shit-"

The last time they really hung out was when Eric managed to ask her out to the high school dance, but it was boring for him. He is not that social and enjoys being around people he knows, the dance was a step too far out of his comfort zone.

"Fuck... hey- you...get off me," Eric muttered, scooting the sleeping cat off his legs, "Why are you like this Oliver? Why are you such a chonkers?" ("I have to get ready Oliver- wait...how do you know when to comfort me when I am sad?")

🟊🟊🟊

"So, why did you want to meet up with me?" Eric asked, following Leah into her house ("Why did I fucking come here... I would have said 'no...'").

"Uh... I just wanted to see you again- we haven't talked in a while- in person," Leah replied awkwardly, "It is hard to get in contact with you, besides the 'I go to St. Mitte and you Bradford' thing- you know?" ("Jesus, this is going bad... He does not really want to be here...").

The friends walked upstairs and down a corridor, decorated with photos of a happy family as well as artwork displayed upon the walls. She paused at a closed door, and jiggled the handle, opening it. Leah beckoned Eric in, inviting him into her room.

Her room reminded Eric of all the movies he had watched with his friends at the movie theaters. It was almost picture-perfect as a standard teenage girl's room. The walls of her room were colored in a soft gray paint, with snow-white trimmings separating the walls from the hardwood floor.

In the left corner of the room sat a large bed with a sky blue comforter, decorated with a soft pillow and many fuzzy stuffed animals. Next to the beautiful bed was a black desk with small shelves organizing numerous notebooks and folders, each neatly labeled and arranged. An open notebook was left on the desk, as well as a closed silver laptop and a small analog clock, with roman numerals for numbers. There was even a small pile of clothes at the hem of her bed, "Maddy and Sarah's rooms are very messy- I guess girls are somewhat neat-ish..."

"Um, Eric?" Leah asked, tapping his shoulder lightly, startling the teenage boy, "You are never this quiet... what's wrong?" ("Don't lie to me").

"Nothing," Eric responded (too quickly), turning his head away, avoiding eye contact, "I am fi-" ("I knew you were going to ask that...").

"Don't bullshit me," She demanded, "I know something is wrong, Max and I work together over the weekends... and he mentioned you acting different at school... he said you've been avoiding him- and other people too..." ("Why are you like this?").

"Um..." He said nervously, "Max and I don't have any classes together this year... I have barely seen him-" ("Fuck! I must've slipped up around him once, shit...").

"I don't even need Max to know something is wrong," She explained, looking at her friend, "Eric, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" ("I can tell something is wrong by looking at you").

"Yeah... and?" ("What does that have to do with anything?")

"You resemble a fucking zombie more than a functional human being," Leah exclaimed, pushing Eric over to her mirror, his shoes squeaking against the floor, "Look at the purple bags beneath your eyes! You look like you haven't been sleeping in what looks like days... weeks probably!" ("I am not stupid").

"..." ("Stop... I do not want to hear this...")

She curled her left hand into a ball, slamming her fist into Eric's shoulder. Her knuckles cracked and popped upon impact. He stumbled back in shock and confusion, tripping over his feet and falling onto the floor. He blinked in amazement, laying on the floor. Eventually, Eric stood up, rubbing his shoulder, soothing the aching pain.

"What the fuck?" ("What was the purpose of that?").

"Sorry- I got carried away... I didn't know how to explain it other than an example- but you are just skin and bones too," she explained, her hand shaking at her side, "Believe me, that hurt me more than it hurt you... fuck..." ("You are not taking care of yourself").

"The point is- I am fine," Eric muttered, backing away ("Leave me alone- I like being alone"). He gazed his attention elsewhere, the fingers on his left hand twitching at his side.

"I know something is bothering you," Leah replied, sitting down on her bed, "Just tell me- please, I am trying to help you..." ("I know you are nervous, but I am prepared to listen to you...").

"..." ("..."). His mind raced with thoughts- "Should I tell her- No... she wouldn't understand," His eyes focused on the floor, examining the pattern in the wood grains, "No one understands me- not even myself, talking won't help... You wouldn't get it... you'd get confused- But she is offering to help... Fuck"

"..." ("I am all ears").

"If I tell you this-" Eric began, brushing his wild brown hair with his left hand, "Promise me you won't judge me... you won't leave me..." ("I don't want to be lonely again...")

"I won't, I promise..." ("I am here to help").

"Okay- I guess to start off...and to be completely honest- I have lied to you," Eric spoke softly, talking to the floor boards, "Well... I have also lied to my family and friends too..." ("I can do this...").

"What do you mean by 'more honest?'" She responded, raising an eyebrow ("Honesty... that's a good sign").

"I guess- To put it lightly- that I have lied for almost four years- It might be... t-time for me to be a little more... honest." ("I can do this...").

"..." ("Not a promising start...").

"I don't know how to fucking phrase this," He muttered, thinking deeply, brushing his hair wildly, "I don't want to traumatize you- This shit still bothers me..." ("I don't wanna be lonely again...")

Leah sat down on her soft bed, her hazel eyes widened, confused by Eric's unusual behavior. He has always been quiet and socially awkward (especially around girls). But right now, he is borderlining insanity, muttering to himself and pacing the room, twitching wildly. Nevertheless, she signaled her friend to come over and sit beside her, but Eric was not paying attention to her at the moment. He was too busy pacing the room, his hands covering his face. He finally paused, but was looking out the window into the backyard, his eyes fixated on a birch tree.

"Are you sure you want to hear...my-um... life story," Eric smiled sadistically, "I am giving you a chance to opt out if you want to..." ("She is not prepared for this").

"Go ahead," she responded, gesturing to Eric with her hand ("I am listening").

"Are you sure you want me to cont-" Eric attempted, to back out of the conversation last time ("I don't feel comfortable..."). He looked out the nearby window, attempting to distract himself.

"Please... I want to know more about you... I really want to help you" Leah pleaded, looking him in the eye (Eric looked away quickly) ("I am here to help you").

"Uh- it's hard to explain- because it is going to sound very confusing- a lot of time jumping..." Eric muttered, still looking out the window, some details I still do not know- I am also very bad at explaining anything too- I can't do this." ("This is going to be difficult- oh fuck!")

"Y-you can do this," Leah said, attempting to comfort her twitching friend with a pat on the back ("Oh God- he is a fucking mess").

"Your right...so okay- well- I guess um- I always hated it when Woodside Middle School hosted- um... fucking Grandparent's Day because- I uh never really seen my grandparents. I always lied- telling the school and friends that- er... my grandparents were deceased- dead," Eric stuttered, still facing the window, his eyes were clenched shut, "I have seen them... just not much- never really bonded- formed a relationship with them... Same with my extended family too. It was always awkward when I had to talk to my cousins, aunts, and ankles- they were all fucking strangers to me..." ("Are you fucking satisfied now? Breaking me apart- unraveling the mess of a knot I am... I know you're not- no one is satisfied with me no matter what I do... or how hard I try-")

"..." ("Jesus Chirst- I did not expect that-")

"This whole- uh... split in the family all started a little after I was born- maybe around like- um... the early 2005. So... um, my mom and dad were- er- accused of stealing- embezzling- family money- by my fucking uncle. It was obviously a lie- but well- that accusation fucked everything up. We joke about it- Sarah, Maddy, Josh, and I because- well my dad is the guy that would... um... do anything for free-" Eric stifled a small laugh at his joke, "Um- family counseling did not help either... You see- mom and dad wanted to fix what was broken- make amends. But it turned into name blaming, pointing, and fighting. They tried you know... they really did- offering to isolate themselves from the family so their kids could have a relationship with their grandparents and extended family... Instead, she called my mom a 'bitch' and a 'gold digging whore.' She begged him to divorce her- the 'psycho bitch from hell.'"

"I guess the counseling did not work..." Leah interrupted, "Eric are you okay?" ("That's fucked up... and oh... he does not look well...")

"Yeah, the family counseling failed- all to no avail," Eric confirmed, lazily, "It explains why I never mentioned my grandma and grandpa during Grandparents Day... whenever someone asked about them, I always replied that they were six feet under- dead. Well, they were dead- to me actually- I never lied- heh..." ("Please let this be over... fuck I want this over with... fuck- I swear to God if you ask another question I will fucking-")

"Why did you let this bother you so much?" ("Why am I asking him this?")

"It's hard to see other people having fun with their grandparents... going to the zoo- getting ice cream..." He replied venomously, "All I get are two $25 checks for my birthday and Christmas... that's it... It's harder to know you grandpa and grandma never loved you rather than them being dead." ("I'm not gonna crack... I'm not gonna crack...")

"What about your other family?" She asked optimistically, "Surely you have to have some loving family somewhere" ("The otherside must be better...").

"Good guess- but no," He replied, "My mom's side is not much better, besides for my second cousins in Nicaragua- and my grandpa..."

"Well- you have a grandpa who loves you though, right?" ("He does not look good...").

"Uh- he does not really count- you see- because... um...yeah," Eric replied, his left hand twitching at his sides, "He had mental health issues and- probably underlying PTSD... Well- the point is he died in- like 93'... I never got to meet him... Even Josh did not even meet him..." ("Stop asking me questions... please").

"What happened with your grandma?" ("Fuck- why did I ask that? He looks like his going to fucking insane...").

Eric blinked. He sighed heavily, preparing to answer the fucking question. "Why, why does she have to care so much- God fucking danm it-" He remained silent for a while, staring out the window, with his eyes still closed, oblisous to his friend- let alone the world around him, "Don't you have a boyfriend or someone else to talk to besides me... Fuck.

"She used to care- I think... I honestly do not know. But she's dead now- over a year ago- She was from Nicaragua, and... uh- she immigrated to the United States. Typically in Latin America, there are usual civil wars with the corrupt governments, mercenary armies, and the people. So- she uh... fled in like the 1940s- luckily her family was rich-ish.

"I guess her childhood in Nicaragua influenced- um... her actions with money- because she preserves it well... plays the whole stock market game- heh, she is kind of like the human form of Mr. Krabs in a sense... But- er- well... she was so um- focused on money and saving it that she- she cared about paper more than her own grandkids-"

"Last year, heh- I was in a meeting with my counselor- because I was signing up for classes and he... well checks in with each student once per semester... and uh- quite unfortunate timing for me- and my family. So- this was around mid-April, about two months since she died- and er- my uncle is- well... fucking insane. He lost his mind years ago- I am not sure if it was the weed... or the fucking prime rib-" Eric laughed unsetteledly, throwing Leah off guard by his behaviour, "The point is- he threatened to kill us- unless my mom put some information about the trustfund and will in our mailbox. Sure enough- he squeals his fucking car into neighborhood, and drives off with the files, like the fucking pyschopath he is- and the death threat is not unreasonable because he does have a safe full of fucking guns in his house-" ("I am not going to crack- surely this is enough for her... whatelse is there to talk about before I fucking go insane- nothing I want to talk about- I am not going to crack...").

"H-how have you kept t-this a secret?" Leah asked, her hazel eyes widened in concern, "For so fucking long? How?" ("Is this why you are so quiet- and socially awkward around others?")

"You obviously don't know how depression works," Eric spat, "Most people don't anyway... Do you remember Emily?" ("I said too much- shut up Eric, learn to shut the fuck up!")

"Vaguely," Leah replied, "Never liked her" ("Who did?")

"She was so annoying- I wished I would have killed myself than listen to her- "Why did I say that-" I had to spend everyday with her fucking complaining about how 'sad she was' and 'she takes antidepressants to feel better.' No, when you are fucking losing it... borderlining insnaity, suffering from- as shell called it: 'crippling depression,' you do not talk about it to random people you don't know- "You are talking to much- you are revealing to much- JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!" you keep it quiet to others- and yourself... not wanting to think of the thoughts- no one understands them anyway..."

Eric broke his window trance, staring at the tree outside, watching as the wind gently shifted a tire swing back and forth- "I could hear the rope creaking-" He paced back and forth, mimicking the tire swing, trying to appear more cool and collected, but each and every step was agonizing, as if his entire nervous system was bursting into flames, the pit in his stomach grew worse. He quickly peered out the window, looking back at the birch tree- his eyes then darted to his left hand, which was twitching again-

"It's kind of scary," He muttered to himself beneath his breath ("She wouldn't understand- "). His mind was racing with the same phrase: "the shape I'm in... my paranoia is starting to show- fuck."

"I never fit in with any friend group I have been in," Eric spoke up, brushing his hair, facing his enemy, "No matter how much I try- I just can't. I am always the fucking outcast... the one being picked on- even in my family- God fucking damn it-" ("Its happening...")

"Why is he talking into my mirror..."

Within seconds, Eric's fist curled into a ball, and Leah got up to prevent the inevitable. He slammed his fist into the mirror, shattering it with one single blow. Thousands of tiny shards rained onto the hardwood floor, and some sliced into his hand. Despite some embedded deep inside his hand, causing it to sting in pain and ooze small droplets of blood, he did not make a single noise or complain. Before Leah even had a chance to scream: "What the fuck," Eric already continued with his story.

"Seventh grade was one of the worst experiences of my life," He said casually, turning towards her, "You would never guess why..." ("You should have opted out earlier..."). And for the first time, he was looking her dead in the eyes. But, Leah noticed his eyes did not sparkle or glow like anyone else she had seen. Instead, his were dead, empty voids, resembling blackholes.

"I know my enemy," Eric muttered, clutching his bloodied hand nonchalantly, "And it's me... I am my own worst enemy- well... actually... it's more like my self-esteem to be more accurate- 'the more you suffer shows the more you really care' ideology I believe in- I never mentioned some dark- er... secrets for reasons- builds character" ("I-I don't want to snap... I held this in for so long now...").

"You have no idea how many hours I spend lying wide awake... unable to shake the demons that turn my dreams into fucking nightmares. The anxiety building up inside me- boiling over- but somehow I am still functional- never breaking character-" He smiled softly, "No one questions the silent person- asking about how they are feeling- no one has sympathy for the once top of the class student- shimmering for their last time before spiraling down- no one cares about your emotions or mental health- it's always grades, sports- never 'how are you?' Society does not give a flying fuck anymore!" ("It's more than I could take... nor anyone else-").

"Intense paranoia- the inability to explain- the fucking anxiety was building- and it reached its fucking peak then! I needed to get good grades to get into a good high school, I-I needed to prove to my family that I was g-good enough because I never 'snap, crackled, and popped' as my mom always says!" Eric ranted angrily, "I was getting edgy all the time- Avoiding my friends... I didn't belong- I came home with a black eye and a bruised lip for being 'weird,' not knowing my fucking memes- I didn't have a phone- isolating myself from almost all the class! All the guys on the school's basketball team always considered me useless and pathetic because I was not skilled enough- The walls were shaking and closing in-" ("I was becoming a fucking psycho- why can't I fit in- Fuck!").

His friend quickly stood up and approached him, softly embracing him. But Eric pushed himself away and turned around. He was not done with his rant yet. She asked for it- and she was going to get it now- "You missed your chance to opt out..."

"All that happened within the first semester- we barely knew each other then- apart from small encounters... but by winter break- I was finally fucking happy! I was out of hell- away from my fucking tormentors- the suffering. At least I thought," Eric said, his demeanor changed within an instant from rage into calmness, "Josh and Maddy were back from college- I haven't seen them in months, My GPA at the time was a fucking solid 3.7, one of the highest in the clas... and I was a starter for our basketball team- I got everything I really wanted- just some happiness. B-but something was wrong- I knew there was- there always is."

"Who would have thought anything was wrong? She was acting normal- her actions- quick to anger, easily flustered- always tired from working long shifts. My mom was fine- at least we thought because that is her usual behavior, b-but when she missed out on our Winter Break trip to Tahoe for winter- I knew something was off, she was not herself-"

"Mom was just sick- and not doing well. Constantly pale- hiding from us- especially my dad... Josh and Maddy went back to college after their breaks ended- but Josh was oblivious to what was happening- we left it that way- we didn't want to add more stress to his ADHD," Eric said, closing his dead, tired eyes, "Everyday- she just got worse and worse. Sarah and I were confused by her- so was dad too... I didn't know what was going on. I think around the end of January- she went to the ER- last time I saw her in a while. A few days later- she left home, going to her aunt's house in Coyote Creek- and that's when Dad informed me and Sarah- and Maddy what was going on... she h-had a-a..."

Eric finally realized his hand was bleeding- but he did not react with fear or pain- he just watched as his bloodied hand dripped its red liquid onto the floor and oozed wrist, down his grayscale flannel sleeve, staining it dark red.

"Eric?" Leah asked, watching him remain perfectly still, in a eerie catatonic state ("Fuck- he is really losing it- He lost his ability to feel...").

He finally snapped- "Never thought it would happen- I guess Henry was right-" He broke down into a spiral of emotional and self-hatred. He had been holding this in for years, "Who would have guessed how I would react- learning your mom has a fucking brain tumor in her fucking head!" He said, falling into pieces, "How would you have reacted to learn you might lose your fucking mom! I had not fucking family to look to- no friends to talk to- I was feeling emotions and feelings I didn't understand- It would be the end for me! And yet how did I react? No emotion whatsoever- just silence- Like how am I supposed to react- 'yeah, I am really okay!'"

Eric spun himself back to the window, directing his vision into the backyard, back to the tree and the tire swing. "The wind must have died down-" because the swing was remaining still- "I could still hear it swinging- the frayed rope-" His eyes drifted back to scar, his eyes dilating in fear- and confusion.

"Imagine waking up one day- and realizing you're just not happy- with your life anymore... You were happy... and one day you just aren't... And you don't know where to begin-" Eric said insanely, "You're at a breaking point- overwhelming anxiety making it difficult to communicate- pointing out your mistake... And flaws- Then the depression starts to sink in- the distorted echoes in your head. 'No one ever loves or cares about you-' 'you have no friends-'"

"I thought this was normal- I just became a teenager that December... when Maddy doesn't get her way, she always says 'Imma kill myself-'" Eric mumbling softly, (almost psychotically,) his eyes tearing up, "The nihilistic thoughts- life is meaningless- whats the point of living- The only way to end these thoughts and negativity- the unending nightmares is suicide."

As the word escaped through his lips, the room remained silent. Leah's hazel eyes finally broke away from Eric, who was still facing out the wind, staring at the grains and patterns upon the hardwood floor- or Eric's blood, which formed a small pool of red on the floor. However, Eric was not paying attention to his peripheral vision, he was too busy listening to the sounds from the swing. He watched as the world around him changed, as the still tire swing morphed into a hanging figure from the rafters of an attic, swinging left to right when the breeze hit it.

He tilts his head downward, eyeing the horizontal, white line. Remembering vividly as the beads of red liquid oozing from the cut, and dripping onto the floor that day. The distorted voices constantly remind him no one loves him and that there is only one option left-

"I didn't cut the artery right- sliced sideways instead of down-" He mumbled, rubbing the mark, trying to make it go away, "I got a little too depressed-" ("I made one small mistake-").

"Eric?" Leah asked, tears shimmered under her eyes, "How have you kept this for so long?" ("How? Why would you keep this quiet for so long?")

"With a thousand lies- with my family," Eric replied, "No one suspects the quiet person- they are always quiet- no one suspects the unexpected at school" ("I barely tried- I was only faking being fine").

Leah got up and clinged onto her friend, embracing him in a hug, "Your okay is what matters now... the past is the past-" ("You're fine now- I am here...").

"I was listening to music- the only thing that sort of helped me- through everything- all the things I was feeling and didn't understand..." Eric mumbled, ignoring her help temporarily, "One day, in PE, I was hiding behind some curtains behind the stage in the gym- listening to music... when someone approached me- a girl- I barely knew her. She was a transfer student- I only knew she was a good writer- I still remember peer reviewing a Christmas Story she wrote for English- it was really good... Well- she sat down beside me- asked if I was fine- because I looked like shit- depression takes a toll on your body...

"And I was also hiding too- now that I think of it- but the point is I lied- I could not tell her the truth- too soon... way too soon. I just said I was tired- but she is not stupid- like most of the class really- she saw through my lie and fake smile. She gave me her phone number- and then dipped- hanging out with her friends- also all transfer students to... Fuck- the point is she stopped my nihilist thoughts- I was officially not suicidal anymore- the thoughts just stopped... that day" ("I was finally free-").

"How?" Leah asked, puzzled by the revelation, "Just how?"

"No one asked me how I was feeling because I was just eerily silent about the whole issue at home- and school- I only mentioned to the teachers was having family problems and that my mom was fucking sick- not that I was not happy and suicidal. Sarah had soccer practice and friends to talk to- Maddy and Dad talked everyday on the phone, calming her down- Josh we kept out of the loop, ADHD and panicking are not good combos... it just left me- and I just had no emotion- no feelings- no thoughts to say- but they were all just in my head- unable for me to express..."

"You just did not know you were depressed, or anxious, or suicidal- right?" Leah asked, still confused, "As a recap, you just thought all the emotions and feelings you were- well feeling... were normal? Like you did not question your change in anything?"

"I thought the more you suffer shows the more you really care- I really did think being sad and suicidal was normal for teenagers- juding by Maddy's talking- and my mom always mentioned slitting her wrist whenever my dad mention extended family or when work got too stressful- I guess those are not good things to say around a middle schooler- I guess," He chuckled uncomfortably, " ... It all influenced my thoughts and just kind of made sense-"

"So- who was the mystery girl?" She asked, still holding Eric, her hazel eyes made direct contact with his green eyes ("Who helped you?").

"Come on Leah- you know who..." ("What...I literally just described everything- and it all related to you... I literally spelled it out for you").

"No... You did not mention a name..." ("?")

"Well- the random person I barely knew- who asked me how I was feeling- knowing something was off with my behavior and body language- who understood me... was you" ("Surprised?")

"Are you sure... I don't remember that event-" She replied, her eyes blinking in confusion at the revelations ("Really?")

"Come on Leah- rack your brains-" Eric said, brushing his hair, "You might not remember it, but I do because it changed my perspective of the world-" ("Come on- you know").

"..." ("It couldn't have been me...").

"I was such a mess- and you helped me," He said, turning his gaze away to the broken mirror ("Why don't you fill in the rest- why don't you remember?").

"I think you're wrong..." ("You must have made a mistake- It couldn't have been me...").

"Leah Pierce, it was you who saved me. Without your one question, and genuine care, I would most likely be six feet under. You helped me realize that a random person can... well- impact your life significantly. Like- come on- slitting my throat was all I was thinking about until you talked to me- for less than a minute-" ("...").

"I wish I could remember..." ("I don't want to forget that moment-")

"It doesn't matter that you don't remember the situation. All that matters is that you forced me to open up- you are literally the first person I have told this to," Eric replied quickly, relaxing in the warm embrace, "and you will not be the last. It is time for everyone to know..." ("Sometimes, when push comes to shove- breaking down the walls I created really helps- and I am not going to stop- hopefully-").