It feels like there’s not enough darkness. You want to be enclosed in a sunless space, but you can’t seem to escape the light. A ray of sun peaks through your window; your lamp never seems to dim; the light streams through your neighbour’s window. You want the world to go black, but it never does.
It feels like you’re running out of air. You’re holding on to your last breath, afraid to let it go. You gasp for air, longing for oxygen to fill your lungs and restore you. You don’t know how much longer you can last. Your lungs are getting heavy. You let it go and brace yourself for suffocation.
It feels like your tears will never run dry. An unstoppable stream of saltwater runs down your face. You want to it stop—you will it to stop—but it doesn’t. They continue to fall.You want it to cease, so badly, and you wipe away the teardrops. New ones replace them.
It feels still. You’re afraid to move—afraid that the slightest motion will cause you to implode. You stare at nothing, not even moving an inch in case you literally fall to pieces. You’re not ready to break, not yet.
It feels like you’re invisible. You are standing in the middle of a large crowd and no one sees you. People brush past you without realizing you are there, not knowing that you need to be noticed. You need to know that you are not alone; someone out there understands you and is looking out for you. The isolation overwhelms you and you try to push through the crowd. No one moves because no one knows you’re there.
It feels like you’re drowning. You keep swimming to the surface where the sun breaks through the water. Yet, no matter how close you think you get, it gets farther and farther away. You keep kicking, kicking with everything you have. The surface escapes you; you cannot break through. You admit defeat, letting the water consume you as you slowly sink into the abyss.
It feels like heartbreak. You feel your heart growing weaker, yet each beat brings more and more pain. Your heart pulsates under your chest, reminding you that you’re living, even though it hurts to be alive.
It feels like you’re empty. You are hollow, vacant, and longing to be whole. You’re on autopilot, just going through the motions. You have forgotten what it feels like to be intact. Everything is futile, but at least the emptiness means you’re feeling something. Something is better than nothing at all.
It feels like you’re lost. You lack direction. You lack the strength put the pieces of your life, yourself, back together. You just want someone to take you by the hand and guide you in the right direction and encourage you—to tell you that everything is okay, that you will be okay.
It feels like you’re constantly waiting. Waiting to feel something, anything. You’re waiting for darkness, for air, for the tears to stop falling. You’re waiting for movement, for people to notice you, to reach the surface. You’re waiting for your heart to heal, for the emptiness to be filled, to find your way back. You’re waiting to live.
Today is Bell Let’s Talk Day. A day when Bell invites Canada to join together in conversation to put an end to the stigma behind mental health. For every text, long distance call, tweet using #BellLetsTalk, and Facebook share of their Let’s Talk image, Bell will donate 5 cents to help fund mental health initiatives across Canada. Finally! Finally an organization implores us to stop and realize that mental health issues are not something to shy away from, nor are they something to take lightly.
I have a mental health issue.
I suffer from both an eating disorder and depression, and today I’m going to talk about it. Ever since I was 12 years old, I have lived with the belief that I am fat. 12 years old. I would cry every time I had to try new clothes on. I started working out vigorously until I finally felt good enough. That feeling, however, would never last long. My obsession began at far too young an age.
The pinnacle of my problem began when I came to university. I started to obsess about the gym, about my caloric intake, about my waist size, my thighs…everything. By second year, I was under 100 pounds. I could fit into clothes that I owned in elementary school. Every time I stepped on a scale, I was dissatisfied with the number I saw, and it would drive me to lose another 5 pounds. I was sick.
I also got extremely depressed. I would spend days lying in bed, in the dark, doing nothing but thinking, and feeling, and crying. I would start walking to school, only to turn around because it was just too much effort. I almost dropped out, but sheer determination kept me here.
My problem is not a thing of the past. I may have gained that weight back, but that is not to say I am happy with my appearance. There are days when I truly hate myself for what I put into my body, or for not going to the gym. There are days when I work out twice a day and not eat at all. There are days when I just stare at my naked self in the mirror, analyzing and criticizing myself for allowing the weight to come back. There are days when I don’t get out of bed, where I just cry for hours on end, not knowing what exactly is wrong with me.
This is something I’m going to have to deal with for the rest of my life.
People have told me that I’m looking for attention, that I’m not depressed, that they don’t believe I have a mental health issue. Some people didn’t say anything at all. Why is it that people are so afraid to see the truth? Why can’t they see that what so many people have to endure on a daily basis is not a joke? It’s not something to take lightly. Why is it so hard to talk about? Why can’t I, or anyone, just be open and frank about our problems instead of hiding or feelings, our thoughts, our emotions?
So let’s talk!
Turn off your iMessage and BBM and text. Tweet #BellLetsTalk. Share Bell’s Picture. Let’s keep the conversation going.
A couple of weeks ago, a group of us started talking about celebrities and who we love most. Following that discussion, my friend sent us a very extensive list as to who his favourite crushes were. So, I decided to do the same and I thought I’d share. I would actually encourage you all to do this too because: a) it’s the BEST research, and b) I’d like to hear who you dream about.
Liam Neeson (I don’t care what anyone says)
Chris Evans, Hugh Dancy, Jesse Eisenberg, Hayden Christensen, Prince Harry, Garrett Hedlund, Mark Wahlberg, Liam Payne, Ryan Gosling (and many others in the category list but, in fear of redundancy, I will not name them again)
Obligatory Honourable Mention Because he Has to be on Everyone’s List:
Channing Tatum (he would be my top five, but because of his obligatory honorable mention, he becomes a category in and of himself.)
Forever and Always:Heath Ledger
Old man crush: Liam Neeson, Mark Wahlberg, Rob Lowe
Cougar Status: Liam Payne
Teen Crush: Leonardo DiCaprio, Chad Michael Murray (Ugh embarrr), Paul Walker (his eyes!!)
Nerd Crush: Matthew Grey Gubler
Canadians:Taylor Kitsch, Ryan Gosling
Classics: Marlon Brando
Funnyman: Jason Segal, John Krasinski
Athletes: David Beckham (duh!), Michael Phelps (based purely on his body)
Beautiful Circa 1990s/Early 2000s: Brad Pitt, Leonardo Dicaprio
Girl Crushes: Eva Longoria, Jennifer Lopez, Hilary Duff, Emma Watson, Rachel Bilson
Favourite Avenger:Chris Hemsworth, Chris Evans
The Hunger Games: Josh Hutcherson
Twilight Cast: Xavier Samuel, Cam Gigandet (shame they were both only in one)
Magic Mike (Top 3): Channing Tatum, Matt Bomer, Alex Pettyfer
Gossip Girl Character: (I don’t watch this, I just needed a category for him) Chase Crawford
Just love in general:Tom Hanks
*Tom Cruise … just kidding.
Pressing question: Is it an inherent young adult attribute to easily revert back to the same habits you’ve tried so hard to break? I’m starting to think the answer is ‘yes’. It’s ironic how one minute you believe you’re fine, and the next you realize how far this is from the truth.
I know I’m being cryptic, but sometimes it’s just better for people to stay in the grey area of the unknown—to live in blissful happiness while others descent into unsafe territory. That’s where I am now. With one snide and undeserving remark, I find myself relapsing into the dark place I’ve been trying to break out of. Where once I could see some semblance of light, that happiness has now, once again, escaped my approaching grasp.
How is it that people can revert to their old selves so easily? I worked so hard to overcome my unhappiness; I was finally a person I recognized. Now, though, I’m not so sure.
A Species stands beyond -
Invisible, as Music -
But positive, as Sound -”
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.”
Waking up at six each morning; living on coffee; reading an entire year’s work in a only a few days; sitting in the library for 8, 9, 12 hours a day; going hours, days without any human contact. The days are blurred, the nights nonexistent. Exhausted, unmotivated, stressed, haggard, frail. Slowly suffocating, dying.
It’s exam time.
I have never been as unmotivated as I am right now—which is why I’m writing this instead of actually studying. While I’m supposed to be studying, I’ll literally just sit in a little cubicle twiddling my freaking thumbs. Naturally, I’m here until the very end of April, unlike literally everyone else on campus, so until then I’ll be facing my slow, but inevitable, demise into mental deficiency.
Buuuuut…. SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE!
Okay, in all honestly I’m not all that excited for summer. I JUST found out that my mom won’t be working in the same building as I am this year (#betrayal), which means:
a) I’ll actually have to drive myself to work
b) I miss out on two naps a day
c) I won’t have anyone to visit when I get bored, and
d) I’ll have to buy my own lunches.
Woe is me… actually though. It doesn’t help that working full time in Toronto equates to a twelve-hour a day when you factor in rush hour commutes and what not. Not. Excited.
However, I do plan on doing a few things in my spare time. Here’s an accumulative list of things I’m hoping I will do so that I can maintain at least some semblance of sanity:
- Get ridiculously tanned
- Go to Kingston as often as possible
- Go to Collingwood whenever I don’t go to Kingston
- Beach dayz
- Elvis Weekend? (Lulz)
- Try and become a runner or something like that (i.e. maintain a consistent work out)
- Write about my feelings so that I don’t project them outwardly and thus look certifiable
- Nashville North nights (see what I did there? No? okay) regardless of Friday hangovers at work
- Get in touch with both old and new friends
- Stop eating like a fatass
- Shop, Shop, Shop, Shop, Shop
- Have a ridiculously insane 21st birthday, seeing as it’s my last significant one for a while (sidebar: Holy shit, I’m going to be 21? What. The. Hell? Youth, come back to me plz!)
- Make it through each week alive.
I’m sure there’s more, but my brain is fried at the moment. Also, I don’t want to get my hopes up, as there is a great chance that this summer is going to blow.
Anywho… the end is so close, yet so far; the looming fourteen days seems months away, but in a mere two weeks time I’ll be free (sort of).
It’s Infinite contain
It’s Past - enlightened to perceive
New Periods - Of Pain.”
Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
Sooner or later delicate death.”
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near”