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Pickoff
9 103,524 M Moving Swiftly 2
Surviving
PathStep 5 Compassion hearts6,002 Forum posts144 Forum upvotes201 Current upvotes201 Age GroupTeen Last activeNovember, 2026 Member sinceJuly 18, 2025
Bio

Hello, Welcome to my bio!

I am surprised that anyone is looking at it!!!

I prefer to be called Pickoff (Pick for short!) or Lila (A nickname off of my real name.)

A Pick-off is a cave rescue technique, where a person is stuck on rope and the rescuer gets their weight onto them then gets them off rope

Pronouns She/her

A little about me:

I am 16 years old. I love the outdoors! I have gone in virgin caves all over the world. I love running. I have slept in a tent for the past 9ish months! It is amazing!!!⛺🥾❤️🥾⛺❤️🥾⛺❤️

I am going to public school for the first time this year!!! (Update) It is awful!!! I hate the kids there, but the school isn't bad except math, which I am just not good at. It doesn't help that I have panic attacks with math. But it has been so nice to actually get a real education, since this is my first time getting real education.🎒❤️🎒❤️🎒❤️

My top 3 music artists at the moment are Matt Hansen, Tate McRae, and Alexander Stewart.🎶❤️🎶❤️🎶❤️

My music artist obsession has been Kyle Hume recently.❤️❤️❤️

My favorite person on here is bubbleperson!!!! But I love a bunch of people on here!!!❤️❤️❤️

I don't like talking about my life with a bunch of people. nothing against people, I just get overwhelmed, and would rather wait when it is quieter.

I love to get to know everyone on here!!! There are so many incredible people on here!!!

At the moment I am living with 3 poodles, they are all different sizes. One is a Toy, that is the smallest one, then there is the middle size dog that is a Miniature, the biggest one is a service dog, and it is a Standard.❤️🐩❤️🐩❤️🐩

TW/// I am battling a lot at the moment... Including depression, processing my SA, and physical assaults, moving into foster care, PTSD, Panic attacks, court stuff, and a lot more. All annoying stuff! Blaa

I get triggered by all caps... I think of it as yelling...

I have to end on a good note!!!! I am writing my 3rd book!!! I have finished publishing my first book online, it is a memoir. A memoir is a nonfiction book written from a first-person perceptive. Focusing on a certain time period of event in their life.❤️📚❤️📚❤️📚



Recent forum posts
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How I became my own best friend
Trauma Support / by Pickoff
Last post
 October 25th
...See more I don’t know what hurts more, the life I live now, or the one I lived before. Before the age of twelve, life was perfect in my eyes.  But perhaps it was only perfect  because I knew no other skies. After twelve,  people looked up to me.  I was the cool kid,  or so it seemed.  While everyone saw someone rising,  I was drowning underneath. A constant fear of life,  a constant threat to peace.  I wore a brave face every day,  believing that was what was asked of me. I didn’t know what right was.  I didn’t know what wrong could be.  I felt like a stranger in someone else’s body,  like I was living a life that didn’t belong to me. I didn’t understand the world,  or what it wanted me to be.  I thought I should enjoy the things  that filled my heart with fear,  even when every part of me was begging me to flee. I woke in terror in the night.  That was where it all began.  Yet I kept pushing myself to like it,  trying to understand  what I could never understand. My body carried constant pain,  but I never let the brave face slip.  I learned to hide the hurt inside  and keep the truth behind my lips. I traveled far,  I saw new places,  I learned just what to say.  I gave them all the pretty stories,  the parts that felt safe to share.  I spoke of all the good things,  the things that floated on the surface,  while underneath,  a terrified little girl  was drowning in silence. They promised they would keep me safe  from all the dangers they could see.  They guarded me from strangers,  from the world beyond the door,  but they never saw the danger  standing right in front of me. I followed him like a puppy,  eager for a little love.  He showed me off as though I mattered,  as though I was someone worth being proud of. And I believed that I was special.  For once,  I thought I had a place.  I never knew how love could feel so close  and still leave fear in its place. In a house that lived in chaos,  attention was a rare thing to receive.  Unless I had done something wrong,  there was little reason to notice me. So I learned to chase affection.  I learned to take what I could get.  I learned to hold on to the moments  that I wish I could forget. And as the years went by,  the weight grew far too much to bear.  I kept it buried deep inside me,  pretending it was never there. Until the silence started breaking.  Until the truth could not stay small.  Until everything I’d held inside  came rushing down the walls. I finally spoke.  I finally told.  I finally let the truth unfold.  And in the telling,  everything changed,  the life I knew,  the people I thought loved me,  the world I thought I knew by name. Everything came tumbling down,  and nothing felt the same.  But somewhere in the wreckage,  my body began to learn that it could do more than fight or flee,  that it could feel without needing to run,  that perhaps the world was not all danger,  and I was not forever undone. I live with severe C-PTSD,  with memories that still leave their mark.  I carry pieces of a childhood  that taught me how to live in the dark. And one by one,  my siblings turned away.  All but one fell silent,  leaving words they would not say. I felt alone in ways  I never knew a person could.  I lost the people I had counted on,  the ones I thought would understand,  the ones I thought would stand beside me  when I finally took a stand. So I learned to sit with my own thoughts.  I learned to hear my own voice.  I learned that even when the world falls silent,  I still have a choice. I learned to hold myself together  when there was no one else to call.  I learned to be the one who caught me when I felt I might fall. And somewhere along the way,  through all the hurt and all the strife,  I became the person I had needed for so much of my life. I became my own best friend. Not because I never needed anyone,  not because the loneliness was kind,  but because when everyone else walked away,  I was still there,  trying to put the pieces of myself together,  one day at a time. And still, I wonder… What is worse?  The life I live now, or the life I lived before? The girl who knew no difference,  or the girl who knows too much? The years I spent in silence,  or the years spent learning how to speak? I don’t know which hurts more.  Perhaps I never will. But I know the girl  I was deserved to be protected.  She deserved to feel safe.  She deserved a childhood that did not leave her afraid. And even if the world failed her,  even if the people she loved could not see,  she was never to blame for what was done to her. She was just a girl trying to find her place,  trying to understand the world,  trying to make it through each day. And now,  after everything, T  She is still here. Still learning.  Still growing.  Still finding her way. And for the first time,  perhaps the story isn't only about what happened to her. Perhaps it is also about who she gets to become.
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I feel invisible
Depression Support / by Pickoff
Last post
 April 4th
...See more TW////// Life has been hard recently. I am trying to do everything right and I am failing. I disappoint everyone around me. I don't talk and just avoid everyone who I live with. I am in foster care, and have been for 9 months. I don't have friends at school. I work a lot and have nice coworkers, but outside of that I just get my school done and just get through each day.  I go though each day get my own things done, and barely ever talk to people if I am not at work. I have disappeared for hours and no one has noticed. I feel like no one cares about me.  Last week I had a meeting with the FBI. And the case is going to go no where. I am frustrated with it all. And want him in jail/prison. I creating a list of every place where I was raped. So maybe there was video footage of it happening. He deserves nothing, and should be in jail. I feel like I am in jail living in this house. I hate it so much.  It has been hard to find all the places and I have given myself so many panic attacks by doing so.  I am constantly stressed about what I am going to do once I am 18. I am alone and the friend who I was planning on living with. Bad things came up about her. So I am no longer going there. So now I have zero place to crash and it is scary. I want to be free, but I also need to figure out an income.  I am very adventures, but not a lot of those jobs actually pay and if they do they don't pay well. Which I have been going back and forth of does it actually matter. I don't want kids, and I don't think I ever want a boyfriend or to get married. I hate relying on anyone and just can't. I can't trust people and that destroys relationships.  *hugs to anyone who wants I am surprised if anyone reads this far down to my rants.... I just needed to talk. And have no one to talk to. 
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Summarizing my life
Poetry / by Pickoff
Last post
 March 15th
...See more Speaking up is hand. I still don't know if it was worth it People say it is But actions speak louder than words People go back to normal Leaving me behind I can't act like everything is fine I won't reunify They don't understand Only government people believe The rest think I lie Life is hard when no one listens People talk and whisper around me Everyone wants things to go back to normal But you are the one that finally stood up Said the truth, that no one wants to hear The truth must be heard Even if no one was to listen Life gets dark when no one listens They walk around you wondering why You struggle to process everything It's hard when you are all by yourself Healing isn't instant No matter how much people want it to be Somethings I can't forget No matter how much I try I struggle and hide Not wanting anyone to know how much I cry Hugs to anyone who wants🫂
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I want to get healthy...
Addiction Support / by Pickoff
Last post
 March 1st
...See more Hey...I did really well for a couple of weeks of not doing any bad behaviors. And then last week I relapsed hard and got into more bad habits. It got really bad over the weekend. I want to stop all my bad habits forever. But it is so incredibly hard. I through away and deleted apps and things. I want to get better. I want to get healthy. I am have been basically addicted to everything at some point and I am only 16. It is quite embarrassing. No one around me knows about any of my addictions since they don't care or notice me. I got into a really bad situation and started dating two people. I ended things. But I hate myself for it. I know it was wrong. I have been addicted to everything from P0rn to drugs, to alcohol to basically anything. It is really bad. I really want to stop.
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Would love critiques on my book
Reading & Writing / by Pickoff
Last post
 February 20th
...See more Here is my book. It it a memoir. I would love some edits to make it better. Please be nice about my story. But I would love to make it to the point that I could publish it. https://drive.google.com/file/d/18zxFhgBLCtYjMx438F_QZ0CYO67ZyK21/view?usp=drivesdk
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Poem "The past year of my life"
Poetry / by Pickoff
Last post
 February 9th
...See more Take up the Courts Case burden Send forth your information Hours and hours of interviews Till silence fills the station People hush around you, They whisper, talk, and stare No one knows what to do or say-- To prove the other wrong Take up the Courts Case burden Time passes, slow and cold. We wait to hear the answer-- The truth that must be told. All wish to be the right one, Yet none will break the peace. The tension lingers, heavy still, And will not find release.
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Critiques on my book?
Reading & Writing / by Pickoff
Last post
 February 12th
...See more I have never been on this topic of forms before... I am writing books. It's it possible to get critiques and corrections on my writing? *Hugs to anyone who wants! ❤️
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