Prepare yourself...the images below are from a collection of poems that I wrote (and illustrated!!!) in the 6th or 7th grade. I am equal parts amazed and embarrassed at the writing. I was one SERIOUS middle schooler.

Not included is an image of the contents page and dedication page. PS: It was dedicated to my dead dog. Seriously, I am laughing so hard right now I am about to cry.

Here's the cover. Note the spiffy red ribbon binding.


No clue what this was about. Maybe I had just learned about the Holocaust or something.

Hatred like a virus takes a long
time to develop.
Left untreated it can be dangerous
and hard to cure.
It grows bigger and stronger
infecting other victims.
More time passes, it grows
more serious, more powerful.
The final stage is reached it's
hard to be reversed.
The only cure, is time.

This poem is about the girlfriend of the boy I "loved."

She is a beast.
Ripping slowly at my insides,
yet leaving no trace of injury.
Her effects are everlasting
and untreatable.
It hurts to the point where
I want to die.
Yet there is no prescription for
my sickness, no pill, powder or
liquid.
Only her absence makes my
ailment fade.

Oh dear. I am laughing really hard again.

Love is like logic,
it can leave you lost.
But love can also resemble
life,
and leave you lucky.

No clue what this was about...

The window is the gate-
way to the outside world.
It can let in light when
you're sad
or chase the clouds away
when you're happy.
Such a simple pane of
glass has such a hard job.
To change your mood.

Wow. This is about death...pretty dark, but the fish and sun really lighten things up (or not).

I lay on the beach,
the sun beating down
on me.
The tide is slowly
coming in.
At first my feet get
wet, then my legs and
then before I know it
I'm totally submerged.
It is so peaceful
under the water,
with the fish and
coral reefs.
Down here I have no
need for air.
This is where I
belong.
This is where I want
to be.

Feel free to post amazing and embarrassing (or amazingly embarrassing) poems in the comments section below!

Below is a piece that I wrote for the LA Times about living with an anxiety disorder. Check it out!
Sam
------------
http://www.latimes.com/features/health/medicine/la-he-myturn22-2008sep22,0,6812450.story

MY TURN

Anxiety disorder leaves parts of life in limbo for author Samantha Schutz
But her commitment to therapy and willingness to try new medications to stave off panic attacks gives her ever-increasing control.

By Samantha Schutz, Special to The Times
September 22, 2008

In the last few years, whenever I tried to talk about my experiences with an anxiety disorder, I ran into the same problem. I couldn't describe myself as having an anxiety disorder because I'd gone months without having a panic attack. And I couldn't say I used to have an anxiety disorder because I still felt its effects.

Trying to find the right tense was more than just a matter of semantics. For many years, having an anxiety disorder shaped nearly every bit of my life -- where I went, who I went with, how long I stayed. I do not believe that anxiety disorder can be flipped off like a switch and, accordingly, simply using present or past tense did not accurately reflect how I was feeling. The body has an unbelievable capacity to remember pain, and my body was not ready to forget what I had been through.

It was only about a year ago that I settled on saying, "I am in recovery from anxiety disorder."

I was diagnosed with panic disorder a few months into my freshman year of college. My first attacks were scattered and seemingly without pattern. But it wasn't long before the attacks picked up speed and I was having several a day. I often felt nervous, not in control of my body, convinced that I was going to die. As the frequency of attacks increased, it became difficult to do normal things such as go to class, the dining hall or parties.

It was textbook panic disorder. Only I didn't know that. I thought I had gone crazy and that all the things I hoped for in my life -- that my parents hoped for -- were gone.

I am thankful that I possess two qualities: being forthcoming about my feelings and being proactive about my health. I believe these are a big part of the reason that I was able to ask for help. And getting help was surprisingly easy.

One fall afternoon, I went to my college's counseling center and asked for an appointment. Within days, I was seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist and was on medication.

That was more than 10 years ago. Since then, I have seen more than half a dozen therapists and taken as many medications. I have gone months without panic attacks and medication. I have also "relapsed" and nearly checked myself into a hospital.

I have been to yoga and meditation classes, swung tennis rackets at pillows, practiced the art of breathing, tried hypnosis and herbal remedies. And slowly, I've begun to do things that once seemed impossible -- going to crowded concerts or sitting with relative ease in a packed lecture hall.

People want to know why I'm better. They want to know the formula. This is not a simple question with a simple answer. For sure, hormonal changes, growing older, moving out of my parents' house and becoming more confident and secure with myself have all aided my recovery. The only thing I can say with certainty is that my commitment to therapy and my willingness to try new medications have made the most difference.

Samantha Schutz is a children's book editor in New York City and the author of "I Don't Want to Be Crazy," a book about her experiences. You can visit her at www.samanthaschutz.net.