Asking is the Hardest Part
Written by Acacia Dyre Warnings: deals with serious subject, hopefully in a serious manner through letters. Disclaimer: I claim my original character, the young girl; but Donna Troy belongs to the Titans and to DC.
+ Being part of a well-known team of heroes, with a well-known base of operations, it wasn't unusual for a Titan to receive mail. Some of it requested help and each Titan tried to do whatever they could when situations allowed for it. Some of the mail was accusatory; no matter what good they did there were often a few negative consequences as well. The rest of the mail could be described as fan mail. People of all ages writing to ask for an autograph, to express awe or gratitude for heroic deeds, ask questions about what being a member of the team was like, and more personal questions that were not likely to be answered.
Donna received a lot of letters. Many from teenaged boys, which was more thrilling when she was a teenager also. There were quite a few letters from teenaged girls also though, not as many love letters but a few, many of them asked for advice instead of professing love or kinship. Those were the hardest to answer and yet she felt the most obligated to pen a reply to those who came to her for some sort of help. Roy got letters asking about fletching and brands of arrows, even advice about making bows. Garth got letters asking about what fish talked about and what it was like living under the sea. Donna got the hard questions it seemed.
The letter in her hand almost fluttered to the floor, as she remained lost in thought. It was a difficult one to answer, but she continued to try to think of something to say to the girl. Perfection was an impossible thing, and yet so many seemed to think she had achieved it. +
Dear Troia,
I am writing to you because I need help. Not of a superhero kind or anything, but you are so beautiful and that's one of the reasons I'm in trouble. I think I might be anorexic and I don't know what to do.
I mean, I know it is a big problem and that it has serious health consequences, but I can't talk to my parents or my friends. They just wouldn't understand. I was always the shy fat kid and when I started losing weight my parents were so happy about it. I even gained friends, instead of just two now I have dozens of people willing to talking to me at school. I don't want to gain the weight back, I don't want to lose all of my friends and be the social reject again. I just want to be pretty
What can I do? Why do some people get to be so perfect when others, like me, have nothing? I don't know how to change without help, and I don't know who I can go to.
Sincerely, Justina +
And she didn't know how to answer the girl. Every choice seemed to lead to the most standard of replies; talk to your parents, see the school guidance counselor, your doctor, family friend, religious leader, long time friend, and so on. The girl probably knew all of that already, and either was too scared or nervous to talk to someone she already knew which is why she wrote to a stranger. Donna sighed and picked up a pen to start her attempt.
+ Dear Justina,
I am glad that you wrote to ask for help, in the very least that shows you are aware of the problem. I have been trying to think of how I can help you, but am lost. There are so many things I could say that you probably know from school, or even television. You seem to want to take the next step, but are unsure of how to do so.
I can tell you that no one has a perfect life. Even those people who seem to have everything going for them have some problems they think are world shattering, sometimes they really are. Everyone knows that life is hard, and it is unfair. I wish it were not so, I wish that I could make things better for you and all of the other people in this world that need help. I can't though, there are days that I can't even make things better for myself.
What I can do for you is to tell you that there is someone that you can talk to; someone near you that you might not even be aware of. If you really want help you need to find them. It might be someone like your school counselor or a favorite teacher, an aunt or uncle, cousin, old friend, teen advice line, a doctor at a clinic. Someone is willing to help you because there are a lot of girls and boys dealing with anorexia and there are ways for each to get some help if it is looked for. Just take that step in finding them, and if they find you first be honest about what is going on.
This might not be what you wanted to hear from me, but I hope that it helps in some way. I also hope that you will write to me again, with good news perhaps.
Troia +
She wanted to be able to say more, to do something other than write a letter, but was at a loss. Instead, Donna addressed the envelope with careful script and put a stamp on it. She left it in the outgoing pile of mail as she walked by, still feeling a little empty.
She stopped, turning to see the basket of mail again, and walked back. The envelope was clean and white and was waiting as she picked it up once more and placed it in her pocket. She would deliver this one herself.
Written by Acacia Dyre Warnings: deals with serious subject, hopefully in a serious manner through letters. Disclaimer: I claim my original character, the young girl; but Donna Troy belongs to the Titans and to DC.
+ Being part of a well-known team of heroes, with a well-known base of operations, it wasn't unusual for a Titan to receive mail. Some of it requested help and each Titan tried to do whatever they could when situations allowed for it. Some of the mail was accusatory; no matter what good they did there were often a few negative consequences as well. The rest of the mail could be described as fan mail. People of all ages writing to ask for an autograph, to express awe or gratitude for heroic deeds, ask questions about what being a member of the team was like, and more personal questions that were not likely to be answered.
Donna received a lot of letters. Many from teenaged boys, which was more thrilling when she was a teenager also. There were quite a few letters from teenaged girls also though, not as many love letters but a few, many of them asked for advice instead of professing love or kinship. Those were the hardest to answer and yet she felt the most obligated to pen a reply to those who came to her for some sort of help. Roy got letters asking about fletching and brands of arrows, even advice about making bows. Garth got letters asking about what fish talked about and what it was like living under the sea. Donna got the hard questions it seemed.
The letter in her hand almost fluttered to the floor, as she remained lost in thought. It was a difficult one to answer, but she continued to try to think of something to say to the girl. Perfection was an impossible thing, and yet so many seemed to think she had achieved it. +
Dear Troia,
I am writing to you because I need help. Not of a superhero kind or anything, but you are so beautiful and that's one of the reasons I'm in trouble. I think I might be anorexic and I don't know what to do.
I mean, I know it is a big problem and that it has serious health consequences, but I can't talk to my parents or my friends. They just wouldn't understand. I was always the shy fat kid and when I started losing weight my parents were so happy about it. I even gained friends, instead of just two now I have dozens of people willing to talking to me at school. I don't want to gain the weight back, I don't want to lose all of my friends and be the social reject again. I just want to be pretty
What can I do? Why do some people get to be so perfect when others, like me, have nothing? I don't know how to change without help, and I don't know who I can go to.
Sincerely, Justina +
And she didn't know how to answer the girl. Every choice seemed to lead to the most standard of replies; talk to your parents, see the school guidance counselor, your doctor, family friend, religious leader, long time friend, and so on. The girl probably knew all of that already, and either was too scared or nervous to talk to someone she already knew which is why she wrote to a stranger. Donna sighed and picked up a pen to start her attempt.
+ Dear Justina,
I am glad that you wrote to ask for help, in the very least that shows you are aware of the problem. I have been trying to think of how I can help you, but am lost. There are so many things I could say that you probably know from school, or even television. You seem to want to take the next step, but are unsure of how to do so.
I can tell you that no one has a perfect life. Even those people who seem to have everything going for them have some problems they think are world shattering, sometimes they really are. Everyone knows that life is hard, and it is unfair. I wish it were not so, I wish that I could make things better for you and all of the other people in this world that need help. I can't though, there are days that I can't even make things better for myself.
What I can do for you is to tell you that there is someone that you can talk to; someone near you that you might not even be aware of. If you really want help you need to find them. It might be someone like your school counselor or a favorite teacher, an aunt or uncle, cousin, old friend, teen advice line, a doctor at a clinic. Someone is willing to help you because there are a lot of girls and boys dealing with anorexia and there are ways for each to get some help if it is looked for. Just take that step in finding them, and if they find you first be honest about what is going on.
This might not be what you wanted to hear from me, but I hope that it helps in some way. I also hope that you will write to me again, with good news perhaps.
Troia +
She wanted to be able to say more, to do something other than write a letter, but was at a loss. Instead, Donna addressed the envelope with careful script and put a stamp on it. She left it in the outgoing pile of mail as she walked by, still feeling a little empty.
She stopped, turning to see the basket of mail again, and walked back. The envelope was clean and white and was waiting as she picked it up once more and placed it in her pocket. She would deliver this one herself.
