The Levels of Anxiety

In my last blog post, I decribed the different forms of anxiety that I experience. But there are also different levels to each, increasing in severity. It affects how I function in my daily life. It has been years since I've had a full day without anxiety. I may get a few hours of clarity at the most. But usually, anxiety is a constant thing, just under the surface. Or like a friend who always has some kind of drama that they want to talk about and won't leave you alone. Anxiety is my best friend and my nemesis.

The levels of anxiety:

0 - Absence [No anxiety can be felt, complete clarity]

1 - Okay [Anxiety is under the surface but doesn't affect my daily activities]

2 - Struggling [Anxiety has been triggered and is starting to affect how I'm functioning, not noticeable to others but makes everything much harder to do]

3 - Suffering [Anxiety is a physical pain inside and constant mental anguish, everything hurts and it takes a lot of effort to function]

4 - Crazy [The most dangerous level - I cannot manage the anxiety in a healthy way, get impulsive, have intense internal pain that makes me want to scratch my face open to get it out]


I'm usually on the "Okay" or "Struggling" levels, on a daily basis. I can block the anxiety or use CBT techniques or medication to manage the symptoms. "Suffering" may happen a few times a month but usually only lasts a day or two. I very rarely feel "Absence", but it's so refreshing when I do. "Crazy" is what I fear, because I know that I might do something to harm myself and I don't like feeling out of control. Back when I was first diagnosed (2008), I felt crazy everyday. It was horrible. Medication is not a cure, but for me, it does help. It helps me become more myself, by removing the clouds in my mind and smoothing out the rough edges.

Anxiety, in its many forms

Generalized Anxiety Disorder is so strange. Right now, I'm feeling very agitated and like I want to do a million things...yet, I have zero motivation to do anything. My mind is racing and I have so many ideas about what to do, I also have a list of things that need completed in the next few days...but the fear is stopping me. Fear of the future, new obstacles to overcome, changes, changes. I don't want to face it. This isn't my choice right now. I'm not chasing a dream. I'm just trying to survive. I want a quiet life. I want to concentrate on my hair: new styles, keeping it healthy. I want to travel and go to concerts and stay home and rest. But right now I can't. I need to find a new job before the end of the month and I need to keep pushing myself. Maybe after things get settled, I can take a break. But I don't know. Not knowing is what stresses me. I do know this is necessary, I know that it's time, I know I need more money, but it's very difficult to cope with it all. Maybe for others it's easy. But for me it's not. Change is always a big deal for me. And all I can feel is what I'm losing. I can't see what I'm gaining. Because it's not visible to me yet. And my anxiety has been very persistent the past couple days. And ever present for months. I rarely get a break from it for more than a day.

There are 3 types of anxiety that I encounter. In the past I grouped it as "physical anxiety" or "mental anxiety". But the mental anxiety can be divided into 2 categories itself: intrusive thoughts and obsessive worries. Sometimes they all occur at once, other times, it's one or the other.

The physical anxiety manifests into increased energy, agitation, or the "anxiety bees" - which is when I feel like something is moving around very fast inside of me. My heart beats too fast and I can't sit still. My body feels uncomfortable. It's not mania or a pleasant sensation, it's more like depression in fast forward. So, you have the lies and doubts and insecurities and fears of depression, but in a fast-paced cycle, that feels like motivation but really isn't. It leads to burnout. This is the time when I have compulsions that my anxiety won't let me avoid. I have repetitive behaviors, dermatillomania (skin picking), wash my hands after everything I touch (because I'm afraid there's a residue on it and I can't eat or touch something else until it's off), wash clean plates and utensils before I use them (but that's rooted in past experience where I ate off of a plate with food residue on it by accident - so I try take steps to keep it from happening again), pick my nails, tap my fingers, clench my fists. Another eccentricity is that I have to change my clothes if I bump against the toilet or if something falls on the bathroom floor while I'm getting dressed. Even if it didn't actually touch anything, if there's even a CHANCE that it could have, I can't wear it. I try, but my mind won't let me. I'll keep thinking about it and thinking about it (germs) until I do something to change it. I get paranoid and overprotective, move very fast from one thing to another. The funny thing is, even with all of those behaviors, most people don't even notice anything is wrong.

I feel crazy and know that I'm not behaving like myself. It's not something I can control. But at least I've learned to recognize the onset and progression of the anxiety. So I manage it best I can. But it's like having a cold: it's in your system until it passes. You can take medications or use other techniques to ease the symptoms, but the anxiety running through your bloodstream is there until it's not.

The mental/emotional anxiety takes another form. One aspect is the worries, where I stress myself out thinking and analyzing an upcoming event or a mistake I made or the way someone reacted to something I did or said. I mentally beat myself up about it and dwell on it for hours. I can push the thought out of my mind temporarily, but it always comes back. An obsessive cycle. A lot of what I worry about is due to the unknown. I feel more settled when I know what I need to know or make a plan. I have irrational panic because I'm catastrophizing and getting overwhelmed by negative beliefs. CBT tools help me restructure my thoughts, but it's an effort. Of course, I have valid worries too, like a family member in the hospital, or car trouble, or my own medical issues. It's just when it becomes my whole focus and I only see what can go wrong and the stress builds up that it becomes unhealthy and damaging. I begin to miss meals and don't have an appetite. I have to force myself to eat so that I don't lose weight. My whole body feels tense and I get stomach problems and my immune system doesn't work as well.

The other aspect of the mental anxiety, which I've concluded is the worse type, is the intrusive thoughts. The waking nightmare images that pop into my head out-of-the-blue with no trigger. Like a thought that my niece or nephew fell down the stairs and got hurt badly...I feel the fear and panic and at that moment, it's really happening. My mind starts to go through the steps of what to do next: check and see if they're ok, call an ambulance, call my sister, make sure have my purse, kids insurance info, etc. All of that goes through my mind in a split second, while my body is in fight or flight mode. I hate these types of thoughts, they're painful and scary. I have to tell myself it's not real and stop the thought right as it happens. Block it, calm myself down. On a good day, it's easy to stop it and it fades away and is forgotten. On a bad day, it doesn't go away so easily and it may cycle back again. Or I might not completely believe myself when I say it's not real. And so I keep worrying.

It's similar to when you have a bad dream and then wake up and the after-effects stay with you for awhile. It felt so real in the dream and your mind has to adjust to being back in reality. You tell yourself that it wasn't real, just a dream, but it takes some time for that feeling to wear off. Maybe you're afraid to go back to sleep because you think you'll dream about it again. But eventually you do. That's what anxiety is like for me. Only I'm awake the whole time. And sometimes these thoughts pop in multiple times in one day. It shakes me. It's hard to take on. It makes me tremble and want to cry. But I get through it. Get past it, as well as I'm able.

It's hard to even convey how bad chronic anxiety is or how hard it is to overcome. I am high-functioning, so I'm able to work and handle responsibilities and most times, my anxiety doesn't show on the surface. People don't see it and don't know. There have been a few people in my life who have picked up on it right away and even worked to help me calm down. But most times, I'm on my own. It's what I live with, it's a part of me, probably for the rest of my life. But I'm trying to make it have a lesser effect and presence in my daily life. Maybe one day I'll be free of it. Or at least be able to manage it easier.

Thoughts, on the eve of my 40th birthday

This is one of the few times in my life where I'm not dreading my birthday. Maybe because I don't care about all of the other stuff I used to care about. Or because I have special plans tomorrow and a hot outfit and hairstyle (that will hopefully work out). Being the center of attention, which birthdays inevitably bring, always make me uncomfortable, but maybe it won't be so bad this time.

I know that people don't understand why the "looking young" thing always bothered me, but maybe I've never explained it. It's not about how I feel about it, it's how other people have reacted that's the problem. It would be fine if it was something that started recently, because I don't actually want to look "old". Having a young body and face is a good thing. But these comments have been happening since I was 13 years old. I was finally a teenager (and that's a big deal to a girl) and some waitress in a restaurant said she thought I was only 10. It wasn't a compliment. I never even thought about how I looked before then. But that really bothered me. And when I was Sweet 16 (another milestone) someone said I looked like a little kid. I didn't even get to be a teenager? And the worst thing was on my 18th birthday when I went out to a club to celebrate with my cousin and one girl said she thought I was only 12 the whole time. No guys wanted to dance with me. I felt like there was something wrong with me. All of these things were also happening during the years when I was being made fun of for my nose and being told I was boring for being quiet. Everything about me was odd to other people, so I thought I was just made wrong. And yeah, depression started to creep in, although I didn't know it yet. I didn't have low self-esteem, I had no self-esteem.

As an adult it was only annoying when people thought I was lying about my age or looked at me like I had two heads (like there's something wrong with me for looking the way I look) or acted like I was deceiving them because their perception of me was proven wrong. And I understand that online, people only see photos and you can't always tell someone's age, but my graduation years for high school and college are right there on my profile page and I post about growing up in the 80s, so I'm sorry, but there really shouldn't be any reason for someone not to know by now.

And at this point, I'm not going to worry about what other people think. They can believe what they want to believe. I don't need to prove anything. Their perception of me doesn't determine reality. My age is just the number of years I've been alive. Which is a lot, considering. And lots of people look younger than what they are...it's very common and not a strange thing. We are who we are.

The only hard part about tomorrow will be thinking of my dog, Lazy. She died on my birthday in 2011. Something about her popped up in my FB memories yesterday, regarding her last days, and it hit me so hard and brought back the pain and grief. I can't let myself think of that time. She was like my child...I couldn't fathom life without her. But we all kept living. And the world kept turning. But I know we all still think of her. She was the sweetest dog.

Dreams

I realized something important today. I have accomplished many of my dreams. Maybe on a smaller scale than expected or through a different route than planned, but I've done it.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist and a writer. I was better at art and enjoyed drawing people and clothing, so I went to college for fashion design. I expected to become a fashion illustrator, but I wanted to learn how to create a garment from start to finish, to get an overall education in the field. So I learned sewing and pattern-making and draping design and garment construction. But I also learned figure drawing and painting skills and how to mix colors and create a composition. I learned fashion history and art history and took a photography course (with a camera that had film that needed developed, which we did ourselves).

I learned what I needed to learn, which was my intention with college. It was never about money or a job or becoming some famous designer. It was about learning and become proficient at my craft. I didn't think about getting a job until right before I graduated. My plan was to get a job in the Philly area so that I wouldn't have to move back home. But it didn't happen. I went to interviews for months (commuting from home) and got the same response from the companies: I had the right skills and qualifications and the other employees liked me, but I didn't have enough experience. So they always went with someone who did. I was right out of college, of course I had no industry experience. My 3 month internship wasn't enough and retail experience didn't count. I was turned down for every job and fell off of the path that I was on. That's what it felt like. The course that I expected and planned for my life didn't happen. I couldn't keep going that way, I had no money, no car (I had been borrowing my parents' or my dad drove me). So I got a job at home...and another.

I ended up working in a bridal shop as a seamstress. I never enjoyed sewing, but I was good at it and learned a lot from that job. I made a few custom pieces for people and learned how to alter existing styles. I also saved up enough money to buy my own car. Eventually the shop closed down and I got another job in retail (commission sales), but with the knowledge I learned as a seamstress, I began to make custom dresses for friends and coworkers. I even sold a few original designs on ebay. That's how my moniker "NicRen Designs" was born. I needed a label for my designs and used the first 3 letters of my first and middle names. In college, I learned how to do pricing and determine the cost of creating a garment, so I used those worksheets as a basis for how much to charge customers. I cut down my hours at my job to pursue this, while I was saving money to get my own place.

I couldn't get a job in the design industry, so I created my own. I did it, I was a designer. My design business never made enough money to live off of, but I understood that it would take time. However, I had other plans. I wanted to move away from my hometown...and so I did. On my own, without any friends or family in the new city. It was very hard. But my dad told me he was proud of me for not giving up on what I wanted and going after it.

I still did fashion design work here and there and altered all of the dresses for my sister's wedding. But it was around that time that I started to develop severe anxiety, and sewing triggered it. It still does. People told me that I was wasting my degree by not pursuing fashion, but design is something that lives inside of me, something that I can do anywhere, anytime, during the course of my life. A degree is just paper. What I learned was what's important, and I'll always have that. But I needed a break.

Which brings me to my 2nd dream: to become a writer. I think part of the reason I didn't pursue it when I was younger, was because I didn't think I was good enough. I always loved to write and kept journals and wrote short stories and songs and poems. I'm a quiet person, so that was how I expressed myself. After I got laid off from my job in 2009, I took some time to explore what I wanted to do next. I found some freelance writing opportunities and started writing for Examiner.com. They paid by page views, so I had to learn how to self-promote on social media to get more traffic to my articles. It was never about the money, of course, but it would have been nice to make a living doing that. But from the feedback that I saw from other writers, it was not possible manifest a large income from that company. It would have to be a hobby or for experience.

I also did guest posts on other sites and had my own music blog and personal blog. I got a lot of great feedback from those and I felt like I actually was a better writer than I gave myself credit for in the past. Or at least, I became one.

After moving back home again in 2012, I didn't work for a year. I was in a bad place mentally and physically, dealing with family deaths, depression, anxiety, recovering from being severely underweight. I felt like a failure because I couldn't pay my bills or afford my apartment anymore. Living successfully on my own was another path I fell off of. But being home was what I needed and put me on the path to my next dream: raising kids.

I always wanted kids. Always. There was never a question about it. I was around kids my whole life and enjoyed babysitting and taking care of other people. I'm a nurturer. I always planned on getting married and having kids. When so many relationships failed, the marriage idea didn't seem as important and having kids was all that mattered. But I wasn't going to just have kids by some random guy. It still had to be right for me. Obviously, it hasn't happened. I'm getting older and it scares me to think that it won't happen because my body will no longer be able to do it. I'm almost 40. But I won't give up hope yet.

So, before my niece was born, my sister asked me if I wanted to be her full-time nanny. Of course I did, but I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle a full-time job again (I was still having issues with depression and anxiety). I started taking care of my niece on my own when she was 2 months old. It was hard, but taking care of kids is a lot of work and that was expected. I also had a new puppy at home that I was training, so that added to the stress. But I did it. My niece and I have a special bond and it's been wonderful to watch her grow up and learn new things. When my nephew came along, I took care of him too. Taking care of a newborn and a 1 1/2 year old is a special kind of challenge. Potty-training, changing diapers, all of the feedings, tantrums...it's a lot. My niece has asthma, so there are special circumstances related to that as well. I struggled but eventually found my rhythm.

It's been almost 5 years since I became a nanny. And this is the most rewarding job I've ever had. The only one where I've felt like I had a purpose and made a difference in someone's life. I love those kids like my own. Even when they're behaving like little monsters. But my time with them is coming to an end. There are changes happening beyond my control, and honestly, I need more money. If I want to move forward with my life, I need to change as well.

It's scary to think of getting a new job, starting over, in a place with new people. I haven't worked in a company setting in 10 years. But it hurts more to think of not being with the kids every day. I'm not coping well with it. I feel like I'm giving away my kids. But I just have to deal with it and adapt.

I don't think I can get a job working with other kids. And not have to eventually give them up too. I don't know if that's best anyway. I need to concentrate on myself for a little while, take care of my needs instead of putting everyone else first. Something with less stress...but still fulfilling. I don't know what that is yet. I know what I don't want and what would be unhealthy for me. But what is the best career path?

And honestly, I'm not striving to have a "career". That's not what motivates me. I need money to pay bills and buy things and finally get my own place again. And I want to travel and go to concerts and have adventures. But through it all, I want a family of my own. I want a quiet, peaceful life. Not going to meetings or racing from one thing to the next. Maybe my own business, maybe not. But whatever it is, I have to be content and regularly have some time away from people and social activities.

There are so many things I'd like to do and so many things I've already done. I love promoting bands online and that would probably be my ideal job right now. So I'm looking into some options. But in the meantime, getting out of debt is a major focus, as well as managing my mental health issues better.

We all have our goals and our strengths. What works for others may not work for me. When there's something I want, I go after it with everything I have. But my heart has to be in it. I'm still trying to find what makes my heart happy.

Big steps

I took a big step yesterday. But let me backtrack and explain why it was so monumental...

I used to hate my profile, the way my face looks from the side. That goes back to when I was a kid and got made fun of because of my nose. I was even asked if I was going to get plastic surgery when I grew up. If people who look like me and are supposed to love me unconditionally think that there's something wrong with me, then there must be, right? And not just family, but strangers too, laughing at me and making comments. After years of that, I began to see it as this horrible deformation on my face. I was so young, just a child, then a teenager. It shaped my perceptions of beauty and acceptance. I was already a different color than almost everyone in school, I dressed differently and spoke differently than the black kids at other schools. I fit in nowhere. And I felt ugly.

I began to see myself as a monster. I couldn't understand how anyone could stand to look at me from the side. From the front, I was ok, even pretty. Although my nose still disgusted me. But mostly I ignored it. This was the 90s, before smartphone selfies and filters and contouring with makeup. What you saw was what you got.

I remember in college, we had to draw portraits of each other for one of my classes. It had to be the profile view. I was so terrified and had to stop the panic. I didn't want my partner to see me that way. This was a guy I didn't know well. What would he think? That I'm ugly, that it's just what black people look like (big lips, big noses)? I didn't know. But I sat for it. And he did a really good job. I looked like me, but not ugly or deformed. That's when I started to think that maybe other people didn't see me the way I saw myself.

Another experience from my college days was when my then-boyfriend tapped my nose and said it was cute. I was shocked. No one ever said that to me before. I don't think I completely believed him, but I know he was being honest about how he felt. He accepted me and even LIKED my flaws. I still think about that moment, years later.

But it took me well into my 30s to actually accept that part of me and not be disgusted or uncomfortable by it. First by mainly ignoring it and concentrating on my good points and the features that I liked about myself (my eyes, my smile). Then eventually, I just accepted it as part of me and didn't care what others thought. It's how I look. Unless I actually want to get surgery, this is the way I am. I don't want to look like anyone else or not recognize myself. I guess one good thing about me is that I never compared myself to girls in magazines or online or felt inadequate that way. I never wanted be to anyone else or coveted what they had. Even when I hated myself the most and was severely depressed, I didn't want to be another person. Just a different person than I was feeling inside. A better version of myself.

I've posted a few photos of myself from the side on Facebook and Instagram in the past few years, but I still felt nervous about it and preferred my front view or a 3/4 view of my face. I'd never used a profile view for a profile/avatar pic...until last night. I changed my main Instagram photo to a recent one that I took of my hair from the side (see above). I was happy with the way that hairstyle turned out, and my makeup as well, so I felt like that represented where I was in my life.

I'll admit, I was scared to do it and had to reassure myself that I could change it to something else at any time, if I wasn't happy. But I feel like I made the right choice. It may seem like a little thing, but it's a big step for me. On the path of self-acceptance and self-love.

10 years

I just realized that it's been almost 10 years since I was diagnosed with depression and started treatment for the first time. It was February 2008, when I was 29 (although I had been exhibiting symptoms for at least 15 years before that). My diagnosis was Major Depressive Disorder. I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Seasonal Affective Disorder, insomnia, and hypoglycemia soon after. It's been a long and difficult road, on and off medication, filled with rock bottom days, weight fluctuations, and abusive treatment from others. I wasn't on my best behavior either and regret being so defensive and dismissive to former friends. But I also found a support system and people who could relate to my struggles and a strength inside of me that I didn't know I had. Even when I wanted to give up, I didn't. Music was a big part of what helped get me through, sometimes the only thing.

Over the years, my depression dissipated to only a few episodes a year, and I found ways to manage and overcome it much quicker. I studied Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques and read a lot of articles and learned from others. I believe I trained my body to fight depression, even when my brain wanted to embrace it. It tried to convince me to give up but it couldn't win anymore. But anxiety was still a big problem and there were times when I was afraid that I would hurt myself. I was more impulsive in that state and in so much internal pain. Antidepressants didn't help that and alprazolam was just temporary. I suffered a lot, for years. There's no other way to put it. It was overwhelming and I had to fight just to function and appear "normal".

I weaned myself off of medication in 2014 and managed (not well) for a few years. In 2016, I decided to ask my new doctor for help and began medication again. It helped, but not enough. So she suggested talk therapy and introduced me to one of the therapists in the office. That was the first time that I had hope that I might one day beat this. Not just live with it but actually overcome it. And I was ready. It wasn't sit-on-a-couch-and-talk-about-your-problems therapy. It was CBT therapy specifically geared toward my particular issues with anxiety. My therapist thought I had already been in therapy because I was so insightful and knew of several techniques. But I hadn't and I didn't know how to implement these tools into my life and restructure my thoughts enough to manage my anxiety. But I learned. I did the homework. I went through the program (about 15 sessions in a year) and felt successful enough to do it on my own. I may eventually do long-term therapy with someone else, but for now, I'm doing well. And I keep striving to be better.

I still have down days and chronic anxiety, but I keep fighting.

I hope you're happy

"I hope you're happy,
I hope you're good.
I hope you get what you wish for,
And you're well understood.

And whatever your progress,
I know you'll be fine.
Because I hope you're happy,
Even if you're not mine." - Blue October

The first couple times that I heard this song, I attributed it to myself - to be happy and understood. To have the things that I wish for. The literal lyrics. But then I started to hear it from the perspective of unrequited love - that I may need to let go and let someone I care about be happy with someone else. I could do it. I have done it in the past. Although I still hope for a better way.

But maybe it's not about either of those things. I know that the intention of the song was a dedication to Jus's ex-wife (and others in his past) to show his support and honor their friendship. And maybe it's more relevant to my past relationships and a way for me to forgive and move forward. With no animosity or blame. Just good wishes for their futures.

Thoughts of my most recent ex-boyfriend go through my mind from time-to-time. They don't bring pain and there's no part of me that wants him back. I've moved on. I closed that door and walked through another one. There were good memories, of course, and I learned a lot about myself from that relationship. I grew stronger after the destruction. Because of it. A phoenix rising. A new beginning. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But it's been 3 years since I've seen him. I haven't dated since. At first, because I needed time to heal and didn't want anyone at all. Now, it's because I'm waiting for the man who is worthy of my love and devotion. My choice.

Early on after the breakup, I told myself that whenever he popped into my head, I should just pray for him. Pray for him to be safe, to have food and a home and peace in his mind. To have no one harm him...and for him not to harm anyone either. He told me once, that he wanted to become a righteous man, to follow God and live by his word. I didn't understand what that meant at the time. I thought being good was enough, but righteousness is a higher level. Something beyond your earthly being. I did research on it, of course. I wanted to understand him. I'm more spiritual than religious myself, and take what I need from different philosophies and religions. So I never thought I could ascend to that level that he spoke of. But I wanted him to. And I believed in him. I could see the good in him, the potential. And I wanted to match him, to be worthy of being with someone so devoted to God. I wanted to be righteous too.

I may never be, but I am better than I was. Through this relationship I learned how to use compassion and mercy and grace. I was there for him through everything. And constantly working on myself. I became closer to God. I became more loving and accepting and forgiving. I ascended to a higher purpose. Unfortunately, he did not and lost his way. Got back into bad habits and old relationships. He betrayed me in every way. But I did what I was meant to do and listened to God and gave my all. I can't regret something that was meant. And something that ultimately made me a better person. That was the true purpose of the relationship. To make me become what I needed to become. To show me the way. And find my strength.

I don't know where he is now or what his life is like. It's been more than a year since I've spoken to him. And he was not in a good place. What he never realized, was that I would have always been there for him. I would have helped him and supported him and made sure he stayed healthy and safe. Even afterward. Even if we could have somehow stayed friends, if he needed me, I would have been there. But he walked away. Time and time again. And I had to let him go. So now, I still pray that he's safe, that he's taken care of and has what he needs. I still pray that he will one day become that man that I saw inside, that glimmer of light in the darkness. That man that God showed to me. That righteous man. Or at least, a good one. A better one. I still believe in him.

He's been in my dreams lately. I don't like when the past visits that way and the dreams made me feel uncomfortable. Sort of bruised my heart. I did love him and that love never goes away. But he was too toxic for my life and it's better for me to be free of it. But I can't ignore these signs. And especially since "I Hope You're Happy" is Blue October's latest single and I've listened to it a lot. And can see it in relation to my ex. It's time, I think, to wish him happiness and pray for a good life. With whomever he chooses to spend it. It's not easy, because there is still hurt in my heart. That he chose someone else over me...and many more since. And I was the loyal one, but I'm still single. It's easy to hold onto the negative emotions. But I don't want to. I want to move forward. I want to be better.

So, I hope you're happy, Joseph. I really do. I pray for you and I hope you have peace and are surrounded by people who love you. I pray for you to have the best life that you can have. I pray for you to be that man I know you are. I see you. I always did. And I release you now. I release you. Live your life. Stay alive. Be free.

- Nikki