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An Impossible Light In The Darkness

While writing for TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms) our CEO decided to post their story to The McCandle Project page. We hope you enjoy. It was titled to TWLOHA as "An Impossible Light In The Darkness." We hope this acts as a good example of story-telling for all who may wish to donate.


 

You forget what happiness feels like. When misfortune plagues the ground you walk on, it is impossible to find light in the darkness. You blame yourself for it too; sit in your room on a dark night and chant “This is your fault.” Meanwhile the monsters dance around in the corners of your room.

I was Eleven and delusional with sleep deprivation. On nights like this one I would splash water on myself to keep awake. It was penance and fear that I didn’t deserve, but I thought I deserved suffering. It took up the air in my lungs and suffocated me, because my childhood was rough and I thought it was my duty to be better for parents that were equally broken.

Tonight changed my life forever. Granted, I adhere to the probability of my own delusion. I was still a child.

Amidst this dark night, where I rocked in my bed and mumbled my apologies, something flew past my window. It was unlike the dark shadows, the ones that twisted and turned out of the corners of my eyes. This object or creature was bright. Luminescent enough to shine a light into my room and leave a small trail as it flew. Perhaps I was dreaming. Mayhaps I had fallen asleep and this dream was just realistic enough to fool me. Yet I remember pulling together the fear on my skin and crawling out of bed. With the appearance of this creature, the shadows seemed to reside and the darkness felt normal. I was overcome by a sudden calm.

Now the night was more of a navy blue. I tiptoed across the room and found myself fixated to the window where, for the second time, this object appeared. My hands were pressed against cold glass when it came and went almost as quickly as it came. It was a yellow ball of light, as small as my palm and quick across the air. It formed a small zig zag before seeming to dissipate into nothingness.

Today I ponder if it was a rare form of lightning, although I don’t recall any rain or thunder that night. It could have been a dream, but I remember it so vividly to this day.

No matter the case, I felt lighter. This small creature had taken the shadows away and for one night I would rest with a smile.


 

The next day I would feel a bit more chipper than usual. The events of the prior night clung to me and filled me with a sense of hope. This was so foreign to me. So that morning I would walk out of my room for breakfast with a laptop. The events of last night had given me ideas for a passion almost out of reach. That unorthodox event had re-filled that passion with vigor.

I loved content creation and all that it had to offer. On many occasions it was the only thing that kept me moving forward. Now I had a mascot. That day I would rebrand all of my pages and implement a cartoony character named Ignis. Ignis would be a little ball of light on my channel. I hoped, by doing this, that people would get a sense of peace whenever my page popped into their recommendations. Don’t get me wrong, I was eleven, and my content was horrendous, but even back then I only wanted to make others happy.

Now I’m twenty, and I thank that little ball of mysterious light for pulling me out of one of my darkest moments. I never stopped content creation. Now I spread this story and encourage hope under the alias “Beeimeem” on YouTube. I dance, script ideas, and work on things I never thought would get to see the light of day.

Additionally, I’ve recently started a non-profit organization. Content creation is fun but I wanted to do more for my community. I began “The McCandle Project” as a means to fundraise for TWLOHA, NAMI, Crisis Text Line, Active Minds, and Project HEAL. I dream to be an official ambassador/advocate for all of them some day. This has been a recent development but I’m thrilled to give people the help I wish I had.

I never thought I’d get here, but every day that I make a difference, is another day I feel that my life is worth living. I still have bad days, but I take after the light that aided me so long ago and find comfort in the dark. My name is Jax McCandle, and I’m happy to be alive.


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