college, personal, Uncategorized

meek.

I found myself lying, face drooping into the slopes of my pillow, weighed down by all the things I should probably be doing and the things I wish I was doing. My uneven posture and tense legs strain from clenching and releasing early this morning from when I was taking my driver’s for the second time. Later, I struggled to cover the rose of my frost-bitten cheeks with multiple layers of foundation. It still shone through, a harsh and unapologetic bloom.

I tend to find myself fleeting from one place to the next, eagerly checking off the menial things off my diary for comfort. Put money into the bank. Check the dates for performance. Get some groceries–especially some salad. I should really get into that. I then crash into bed when they are done, feeling strangely unaccomplished and disconnected to my self.

I picked off the pieces of my body, the mangled individuals cast here and there over the bed. Recollected myself, and gathered together a self that can writes. I try to make meaning of the empty space. No matter how many times I try to keep my desk clear of the clutter, my pens and books with stickers and orange peels litter the top, and stay there until someone else enters.

I see a message pop up from my friend. We find solace in each other. There are friends you meet in blurs to pass messy nights with, and others with whom you reach out for in the darkness, meandering the unknown hills and edging around the crevices. I talk again about my feelings. She returns the same. I feel that there are many of us out there tonight–we are not lost, but just waiting for the winter to pass us over.

 

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exploring, personal, Uncategorized

Why I am “Fine” – something personal

I went to a talk about mental health awareness today, and how it is stigmatised and 40% of Australians think that depressed people are dangerous, when in fact, they are the most targeted. I remember back in high school when I had some of the most tumultuous years of my life, and the crippling anxiety I had after getting gang robbed the second time and having my family fall apart and stitched back together. I would burst into hysteric tears for no good reason. The only reason I went home was because of my puppy and the weird guilt that convinced me I needed to be there to calm and mediate everything. I spent so many days at my sisters because the atmosphere choked me. I always looked to school for refuge, and thinking back, it’s the only reason why it never really developed into medication and doesn’t affect me so much now. School always had gossip and rumors and this and that to keep my mind off of things. I was preparing for college and for exams and having crushes and having fun with my friends… it gave me things to focus on. Even now, I sometimes find myself crying over something trivial, and it used to make me so angry for being weak and emotional. I’m over that now. I may not understand it, but it’s okay. I don’t judge or reprimand myself for expressing something and giving a sign that I feel something about the situation. I want to thank my boyfriend for this too, for always understanding and telling me to continue nurturing myself.

This turned out to be a longer post than intended. I just guess I want to say that I’m really grateful how everything turned out, and to everyone that has stood by me along the way. I took counselling after the robbery, and I am never ashamed to say it. I openly encourage all my friends to seek help if they need it. It was one of the best choices I made at the time, and just being able to speak about it to someone who would not worry as much as my friends or family would was everything. I’m really grateful for all the support my counsellor gave to me (shoutout to Miss Wilhite, I’ll never forget you) and to everyone who accepted me for me and were patient with me during my healing. Mental illness is an illness like all others, should be openly discussed and have support like any other battle.

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