nursupriatna
When the sunlight does not warm your room in the beautiful morning, let’s open the window, so you can feel the light better. When the moonbeam does not guide your steps in the dark night, let’s set the fire, so you can see your way. When your eyes are not strong anymore to keep the rain, let it fall, so you can get back your smile. Then, when you start giving up with your life, keep your head up and let’s open another door.
Friend, how many times do you get the failures? I get it hundreds. No, I lie to you; I get it more than hundreds. I always try my best for every single work that I do, but those all are nothing in the end. I always try to dream big in every single start that I do, but those dreams are gone away in the end. I always try to open the closed doors that I meet, but when I open the door, I enter the room with more the closed doors.
What do you feel when you face the failures? It sometimes makes you fall, and then fall sometimes hurts you. Since I never have someone who always supports me when I fall, it is so hard for me to stand up again. Have you ever thought that you fight alone in this cruel world? Yes, I have. I always think about it every time I fall. Yet, every time I see them who have worse life than me, I realize that I am not alone. Therefore, I let my tears fall when the dark clouds cover my heart as the rain does when the sky become gray. The tear is not a sign that you are weak person, but you are healing your heart from the pains. Remember that the rainbow always comes up and the sky becomes blue again after the rain.
Friend, every time I fall, I stand up again, I fall again, then I stand up again. How many of you could have a seat in the school or in the university easily? For me, studying at the university ever was an impossible thing. University fees are so expensive, even the cheapest one I could not reach it. It was hard to bury your dream for continuing study at the university because of one reason, you are person with poor of money. To keep my dream always flamed, I should live in a cardboard hut without any bed and blanket in the capital city.
How often I blamed my condition at that time. I never stop complaining about why God gave me a horrible life. When the rain came in the midnight, why should I who only walked in the deserted night and got the wet. When the others could sleep in their comfort beds and rooms, why should I who only slept in the cold night without anything that made me comfort. When the others could buy everything that they wanted, why should I who were deceived to be a slave in order that I could buy a bowl of rice.
How lucky you are if you have someone who can stay with you and hear all your stories. I lost my mother, my best friend for sharing and leaning on, when I was seventeen, a number in which everyone says that it is a sweet age. Nothing sweet happened on my seventeenth birthday, my life changed entirely since my mother passed away. I had to fight alone and keep my stories inside. Do you know why I never stop reaching my dreams? The reason is only one, to make my mother proud of me. During her life, I had not made her happy yet. Before she passed way, I promised to her one thing, I would go abroad and carry her with me. Yet, it never could happen.
Even though I could not carry her body with me, but I believe that her soul is waiting me in a place that I told her. Therefore, I do not care how hard life will break me and how hard cold will freeze me; I never stop opening every door that I meet in order that I could make my dreams come true. One thing that I could thank from the beautiful midnight, even I who only walked in the cold windy night, I was the only one who saw the beautiful stars in the black sky. Those stars gave me a thought that tomorrow was mine if I could change everything that I had. Therefore, I started rebuilding my life and my future.
I could be a person with poor of money, but not a person with poor of dreams. I should awake and get a golden key to my future. Since that time, I reopened my high school books and registered myself at some universities. Around six universities refused me as their scholar. Yet, I did not care if my sweat changed into blood; at least I got a seat in the university. I always opened the closed doors even after opening it, I should face more the closed doors. Eventually, my long efforts made a result, I got a seat in the university in which I am studying now.
Friend, as I mentioned before, when you start giving up with your life, please keep your head up and open another door. Even the sunlight and the moonbeam do not work as you wish, yet you still can make your dreams come true by using your own ways. You can be a person with poor of money, but do not let your life become poorer because of it. When you think that you fight alone, don’t worry, think about me, I am fighting with you.
Be A Unicorn & Help Teens Everywhere! TeenMINDS Writing Contest. Why Not?!
WHY?
Let's build “armour” for each other by discussing strategies WE need to be mentally healthy, destroy stigma of mental illness & live happier.
Why do we want to help others live a life with more vitality?
WHY NOT?
Join to make a good cause become OUR GREAT CAUSE.
You never know who your words will help, so be brave, share your story about mental illness, mental health solutions and other teen stuff.
How?
Create an exciting, heartwarming or funny: story, rant, poem, or mini essay to teach, insight, and advise fellow youth on life. We want to hear your stories of struggle & triumph; your suggestions & solutions.
** Need to spark your thinking?
1.) MINDS MAP Topics
2.) Writing Prompts
Steps:
a. Think of what you could write about battling "Teen Life"
b. Create.
c. Submit Text Box Right. (** Remember to create and save your document elsewhere so you don't lose any great work!)
d. Include Signed Entry Form
* Want to Enter an IMAGE instead or also?
Image Contest:TeenMINDS Image Contest
Suggestions:
Speak from the heart. All submissions are confidential, so make our readers cry, ponder, laugh, get chills, or say “Wow, #Amazing!”
Creativity is way more important than details, so: Use Imagination, Keep It Simple and Have Fun!
Oh, And Shhhh! It's a top secret project…. Don’t share with anyone, unless you know they would be a big help, then share it with them to join the movement !!
**Learn More About: ProjectTeenMINDS
* Questions? Ask at TeenMINDS.com
Length 100-1200 Words.
Awards: 5 for Images Age 12-15 & 16-19 & 20-23 AND 5 for Writing Age 12-15 & 16-19 & 20-23. The 30 successful candidates will receive a $ 100 gift card, be posted on winners page and be guaranteed a place in Project TeenMINDS Book.
Expanded Contest Rules
"I'm going to look stupid today." I think to myself.
The bright pink, sparkly converse that I put on I've had for years and they look childish.
" I'm going to Lauren's house! I'll be back by 5 o'clock, okay?" I shout into the kitchen, where my mom stands making sandwiches.
" 5:00? Isn't that a bit late for you, honey? Maybe you shouldn't. Are you sure you'll be okay?" She says like I'm three years old.
" Mom. I'm almost 16 you know. I'll be fine." I say walking out the door. I slam it behind me and start walking down the street, my mood already dampened. The walk to Lauren's house is short and I'm standing on her front porch in less than ten minutes. Her house is big and welcoming. Lauren and I have been friends since we were four years old and we do everything together. It's always been just me and her. We aren't that popular and no one else wants to be our friend anyways. But I don't mind.
I knock on the door. Lauren's tall model-like mother opens the door.
"Hello, Mrs.James. Is Lauren here?" I ask, rolling back on my heels.
" Umm, no actually. I believe she's at Alyssa's house." She replies.
Alyssa? Her house? Lauren?!
" Oh...yeah, of course. My mistake, bye!" I say, hurriedly. She goes back inside, leaving me staring at her front door with a blank face. Alyssa is probably the most snobby, arrogant person I know. She walks around school with her nose in the air, her large group of make-up plastered friends following. Why Lauren would be with her is beyond me. She even specifically invited me over. Maybe this is her revenge for me sharing my chocolate chip cookie with Laney instead of her. Well she looked lonely, it's not my fault. As I'm walking by Alyssa's house on my way back home I can hear them in her backyard. It sounds like her group of friends is there and they soon see me walking by. They open the gate leading to the sidewalk and Alyssa pushes to the front of the group.
" Hey look! It's Bozo Brooke." She says, smirking. All her friends laugh. " You look sad, too bad you weren't invited to the party." Alyssa says making an apologetic face and then bursting out laughing again.
"What's that you're wearing?! It looks ridiculous. Maybe this will help!" She scuffs her feet around, spraying mud onto my shoes. I see Lauren standing off to the side of the group, not meeting my gaze.
I start to walk away. It don't care what she thinks of me. When I get home I go up to my room to read. I pass my mirror once again and realize something. Deep down inside, the unfortunate truth is, I do care. I do care about it. I shouldn't, but I do.
It's Monday. I get out of bed and eat some cereal. It's soggy and gross by the time I finally finish it and I'm tired. I brush my short hair and put it in a simple ponytail. It's gloomy and rainy outside. I put on some plain jean capris and a Star Trek t-shirt. My binders from yesterday fill up my bag and it's heavy on my back. I grab an umbrella and start walking to school. The tall building of Mayview High is now in view and students file through the front doors. I shove my wet backpack into my locker and grab my things for art class. We go through home room and off to classes. When I walk into room 359 Lauren is sitting with Alyssa's friends. There's one desk left beside the girl known as "Loser Leah" to Alyssa. I don't know her very well but she seems nice. When I slump down in the seat beside her she looks up from her drawing.
" Hi. Mind if I sit here?" I ask.
" Not at all. Oh, and… I like you shirt." Leah says shyly. I look down at my old Star Trek shirt. I'm pretty sure it's gone through the names "lame", "ugly", "weird" and "nerdy" by Alyssa and I'm startled.
" You... like it?"
" Yeah. I've seen all the episodes and I've got all the movies. I'm a fan." Leah replies. Mr.Leighton walks into the room and the class silences. I look to the front of the classroom and notice Lauren staring at me. She looks away and Leah touches my arm. I see the concern in her eyes.
" Sorry, but I can't help but notice you and Lauren." She asks kindly.
"Yeah. I don't know. She kind of...has been avoiding me lately. She's been hanging out with Alyssa instead." I says glumly.
"Oh... I think they're very inconsiderate. Thinking everything is about fashion, beauty and how popular you are. They don't see people's true talents and strengths. I think everyone deserves to be recognized for who they are, and that we're all only human." Leah smiles.
"I think that too." I whisper.
My bestfriends and I have the same background, we were popular when we were in our previous school even that our school did not same. We often played with friends that we liked, even they are boys. We were popular because we are beautiful, smart and got a lot of achievements in our previous school. As I included being a good student in my previous school, then I chose to continue my school in one of the best school in my country. Well, I met with a lot of friends that came from different regions. It was really amazing that I can continue my education in the best school and the people surround me are having high intelligence.
By the time, I got two bestfriend, we often played and had chats together. We have the same mission and ambitious to be success woman. As the ordinary humans, we ever attracted to the boys who are popular in our school now. They are expert in sains, sports, music and another. These two boys also are the bestfriend.
One time, my bestfriend and I had a big project in my school. We were really hurried by the deadline. While in another case, we got closed with those boys, the ones that we liked each other. My another bestfriend always reminded us that three of us must focus with our projects, because we did not have another time. Actually, I tried to focus, but when it came to the project discussion, I just lost concentrate and my boyfriend just text me to have a walking together, he asked me to meet with him and having a date. As I really love him and I did not want to lose him, I just told to my bestfriend that I cannot join with them, since I had stomach or having another busyness. It means that I lied to my bestfriend, but admittedly my bestfriend who were in the same condition with me that was falling in love, she was just doing the same. In the impact my another bestfriend that did not have any relation with anyone just disappointed with both of us.
Around 1 month later, the day that we must submit our project already come. Three of us were really in the bad conflicts, we pointed each other because we cannot do our best in our project. While the gift from this project was travelling to Europe which it was our big dreams together. We cannot do anything, we just submit our project even it was not have any revision and check list before. While in the same time, I also got conflict with my boyfriend as he was dating with another girl. Unfortunately, my bestfriend also had a conflict with her boyfriend, as her boyfriend will go abroad and he was breaking up their love because he did not want to have long distance relationship.
Well, both of us just take a deep breath and realized our mistake, especially because we cannot be the winner of this International competition, also we lost our boyfriend and we ignored our frienddhip. Hence both of us asked forgiveness of our another bestfriend who always reminded us but we did not care. Instead, we just having resolution that we must pursue our dreams and take away our teenager’s ego.
The hall is cold and quiet, I turn off the heavilly blowing fan and loud music from the bathroom- check up and down so I know that no one heard.
The day goes by and I have lose that beautiful. My lips are tooth-worried, my eyes are tired, my cheeks are pale. I am tall- but he says he’d never date someone like that. I am proud- but she says pride is narcessistic and egotisical. I am beautiful- but not anymore.
So here I am again, striving for that beautiful. I brush my hair with tender strokes, moisturize with caresses, push on the fans with gentle ritual, and make myself beautiful once more.
My lips are red and soft. No imperfect skin left from the acid. My eyes are bright and shining. Watering from the force of my heaves. My cheeks are flush and glowing. Blood rush from so long with my head hovering over porcelain.
I am beautiful again.
The hall is cold and quiet, I turn of the heavily blowing fan and loud music from the bathroom- check up and down so I know that no one heard. The day goes by and I have lost that beautiful. My lips are tooth-worried, my eyes are tired, my cheeks are pale. I am tall- but he says he’d never date someone like that. I am proud- but she says pride is narcissistic and egotistical. I am beautiful- but not anymore.
So here I am again, striving for that beautiful. I brush my hair with tender strokes, moisturize with caresses, push on the fan with gentle ritual, and make myself beautiful once more.
My lips are red and soft. No imperfect skin left from the acid. My eyes are bright and shining. Watering from the force of my heaves. My cheeks are flush and glowing. Blood rush from so long with my head hovering over porcelain.
And I am beautiful again.
Friend, how many times do you get the failures? I get it hundreds. No, I lie to you; I get it more than hundreds. I always try my best for every single work that I do, but those all are nothing in the end. I always try to dream big in every single start that I do, but those dreams are gone away in the end. I always try to open the closed doors that I meet, but when I open the door, I enter the room with more the closed doors.
What do you feel when you face the failures? It sometimes makes you fall, and then fall sometimes hurts you. Since I never have someone who always supports me when I fall, it is so hard for me to stand up again. Have you ever thought that you fight alone in this cruel world? Yes, I have. I always think about it every time I fall. Yet, every time I see them who have worse life than me, I realize that I am not alone. Therefore, I let my tears fall when the dark clouds cover my heart as the rain does when the sky become gray. The tear is not a sign that you are weak person, but you are healing your heart from the pains. Remember that the rainbow always comes up and the sky becomes blue again after the rain.
Friend, every time I fall, I stand up again, I fall again, then I stand up again. How many of you could have a seat in the school or in the university easily? For me, studying at the university ever was an impossible thing. University fees are so expensive, even the cheapest one I could not reach it. It was hard to bury your dream for continuing study at the university because of one reason, you are person with poor of money. To keep my dream always flamed, I should live in a cardboard hut without any bed and blanket in the capital city.
How often I blamed my condition at that time. I never stop complaining about why God gave me a horrible life. When the rain came in the midnight, why should I who only walked in the deserted night and got the wet. When the others could sleep in their comfort beds and rooms, why should I who only slept in the cold night without anything that made me comfort. When the others could buy everything that they wanted, why should I who were deceived to be a slave in order that I could buy a bowl of rice.
How lucky you are if you have someone who can stay with you and hear all your stories. I lost my mother, my best friend for sharing and leaning on, when I was seventeen, a number in which everyone says that it is a sweet age. Nothing sweet happened on my seventeenth birthday, my life changed entirely since my mother passed away. I had to fight alone and keep my stories inside. Do you know why I never stop reaching my dreams? The reason is only one, to make my mother proud of me. During her life, I had not made her happy yet. Before she passed way, I promised to her one thing, I would go abroad and carry her with me. Yet, it never could happen.
Even though I could not carry her body with me, but I believe that her soul is waiting me in a place that I told her. Therefore, I do not care how hard life will break me and how hard cold will freeze me; I never stop opening every door that I meet in order that I could make my dreams come true. One thing that I could thank from the beautiful midnight, even I who only walked in the cold windy night, I was the only one who saw the beautiful stars in the black sky. Those stars gave me a thought that tomorrow was mine if I could change everything that I had. Therefore, I started rebuilding my life and my future.
I could be a person with poor of money, but not a person with poor of dreams. I should awake and get a golden key to my future. Since that time, I reopened my high school books and registered myself at some universities. Around six universities refused me as their scholar. Yet, I did not care if my sweat changed into blood; at least I got a seat in the university. I always opened the closed doors even after opening it, I should face more the closed doors. Eventually, my long efforts made a result, I got a seat in the university in which I am studying now.
Friend, as I mentioned before, when you start giving up with your life, please keep your head up and open another door. Even the sunlight and the moonbeam do not work as you wish, yet you still can make your dreams come true by using your own ways. You can be a person with poor of money, but do not let your life become poorer because of it. When you think that you fight alone, don’t worry, think about me, I am fighting with you.
I’m going to be straight up here. Sometimes, when you’re being bullied, there’s nothing you can do about it. No matter what you do, sometimes you just have to live it out and hope for the best. The only thing you can do that will work for sure, is to not lose yourself, even if you’re being bullied for being yourself. Be yourself, forever and always.
1. Let it out.
Sometimes, you just need to let it out. Try venting to an adult or some close friends about your situation. Chances are they’ll understand your situation or give you some great advice on how to handle it. If you aren’t the talking type, try writing poems, stories, songs, or keeping a journal about what’s going on in your life. Trust me, it helps.
2. Listen to music.
Even if you usually don’t listen to music, listening to music usually helps me through tough times. Music that relates to your situation or “power” songs about self confidence are the best. I listed a few to help you get started.
“Mean” by Taylor Swift
“Wings” by Little Mix
“Skyscraper” by Demi Lovato
“Hall of Fame” by The Script feat. will.i.am
“Defying Gravity” from the musical Wicked
“Gives You Hell” by All-American Rejects.
3. Read.
Reading always gets my mind off of things. All books are good books, but just like music, reading something that relates to you always makes you feel better. If you’re looking for comfort, try reading a book from your childhood that you enjoyed a lot. If you’re looking for a book that will make an impact, read Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson.
4. Join a club/group that highlights your interests.
When you’re being bullied, you may just want to curl up on your couch in fetal position and eat chocolate ice cream all day, but sometimes that’s not the way to go. Try joining a book club if you like to read, a creative writing club if you enjoy writing, a choir if you enjoy singing, etc. When you join this club, you’ll feel as if you fit in and no one will judge you. You’ll also make some new friends!
5. Find some power quotes.
One of my favourite things to do when I’m down is to read inspiring quotes that I can relate to. Search up “inspirational quotes” and find some that inspire you or let you know that you’re not alone. Once you’ve found your favourites, try illustrating them or writing a story inspired by it.
These are all the pointers I can give you. Give them a try, and make the best out of your situation. Good luck!
Bare chest bare feet barefoot
Shoes so sacred items belong to them full-blooded colonial
Indigenous commoners did not obtain permission at the sky high
Should not all-white safari Europe
Did not deserve the White House demanding justice court
Gallant youth, youth wiry, strong young man,
youth lackluster sugar factory fill despise themselves so the man of the gentlemen Netherlands
Sweet girls, plump girls, beautiful girl in distress
father sold the home so mistress and housekeeper are cheap
There was no defense let alone fighters
Unable to say let alone fight
Regent entire city nodding enemy lust
Star racing, scrambling dollars, berkoleksi concubine
No matter though strangle people themselves
Their lives are taken care of so that the colonial government
Honorary destroyed village wench is not about
Originally dignity soared close to the “Gubernur Jenderal”
Increasingly concentrated dark ages
Mark a new dawn breaking it crashing
Restless souls of young people upset-upset
Watch the fragmented indigenous
Until the rise of open children's eyes
From Batavia to Surabaya
Pens are withdrawn from the pocket
Ink and paper out of wood cabinets
The two narrow pieces of paper diruang
Inspire youth throughout waking and rising
Press the commander of the land awakening
Prijaji field became the prince of a true newspaper
Posts sharp to penetrate the conscience of ordinary youth
Mass build-up to the mass action
Younger students seeking joint connective
Tuk surge unite employees, farmers, and scholars
Estuary struggle finally arrived: Organitation is answer
“ Budi Oetomo “and “ Serikat Dagang Islam” pioneering
Burn-generation youth organizations undaunted action
Against invaders with large motion planned
Breed new bonds decades the number of youth
Teach the ideals of the nation's leading independent
They are the prime movers of the nation youth
Children Awakening Majesty
Bare chest bare feet barefoot
Shoes so sacred items belong to them full-blooded colonial
Indigenous commoners did not obtain permission at the sky high
Should not all-white safari Europe
Did not deserve the White House demanding justice court
Gallant youth, youth wiry, strong young man,
youth lackluster sugar factory fill despise themselves so the man of the gentlemen Netherlands
Sweet girls, plump girls, beautiful girl in distress
father sold the home so mistress and housekeeper are cheap
There was no defense let alone fighters
Unable to say let alone fight
Regent entire city nodding enemy lust
Star racing, scrambling dollars, berkoleksi concubine
No matter though strangle people themselves
Their lives are taken care of so that the colonial government
Honorary destroyed village wench is not about
Originally dignity soared close to the “Gubernur Jenderal”
Increasingly concentrated dark ages
Mark a new dawn breaking it crashing
Restless souls of young people upset-upset
Watch the fragmented indigenous
Until the rise of open children's eyes
From Batavia to Surabaya
Pens are withdrawn from the pocket
Ink and paper out of wood cabinets
The two narrow pieces of paper diruang
Inspire youth throughout waking and rising
Press the commander of the land awakening
Prijaji field became the prince of a true newspaper
Posts sharp to penetrate the conscience of ordinary youth
Mass build-up to the mass action
Younger students seeking joint connective
Tuk surge unite employees, farmers, and scholars
Estuary struggle finally arrived: Organitation is answer
“ Budi Oetomo “and “ Serikat Dagang Islam” pioneering
Burn-generation youth organizations undaunted action
Against invaders with large motion planned
Breed new bonds decades the number of youth
Teach the ideals of the nation's leading independent
They are the prime movers of the nation youth
Children Awakening Majesty
We question it and we try to understand.
We observe up close and we watch from distances away.
We struggle with our identity
and who it is we are to be and become.
We struggle with school with problems others don't tend to see.
We want to cry out for help when needed,
but it seems like we only need help when we exceed our tolerance.
It seems everything has a tolerance an acceptance or limit to but humanity emphasizes that.
Too often we do not not discourage those behaviors.
How are we to focus on our goals when our thoughts cause us to react to what we hear, what we see, what we are subjected to and how we are treated?
We try in many ways to just simply fit in,
but what happens when you eventually become uncomfortable in your own mental and physical state as well?
In fear of your behavior defining you,
you fear the person you want to become.
Would that person be normal or would society would reject that?
You've seen the labels.
Bipolar. Depression. Anxiety. Paranoia. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Schizophrenia, Eating Disorders. Sleeping Disorders. ADD. ODD. Conduct Disorder.
What if your labeled, does that become who you are?
What if you are labeled, does it make you a different person then you were before.
No.
Mental health is not contagious and it can not be chosen.
However we are labeled whether we have mental illness or not. It will not define us.
We are stronger than a label.
We may have to fight harder but we can handle it.
We are people too and we are just as okay.
If things don't seem to be okay than we will wait, because it is not the end until it is okay.
We will rise with mental illness.
We will accomplish with mental illness.
We will be who we are but we will not let mental illness define who we are.
There are so many things I'd like to say , but first , let me tell you how I ended up where I am today .
It all started when I was nine , playing at school, just being a kid , everything was fine . Then she saw me , the girl with long beautiful hair , all she did was stare . She then walked up to me with a smile on her face , but what she said was a memory I wish I could erase.
This one incident followed me everywhere. It was in my dreams and followed me up to my teens.
She was only the beginning of what was to come , everything after that happened made me feel sad , and then eventually numb. So , I built up a wall from head to toe , nobody could see how I'd feel , I wouldn't let it show .
Things got worse and so did I , at one point the only solution I saw was to die !
Doctors prescribed me medications and pills, but to be honest , the only thing I needed was that feeling inside that gives you chills. It was love and affection. That's what made me feel healed and wanted , it was my new protection.
No more walls no more tears . All those things were gone no more fears.
What they told me was a chemical imbalance, turned out to be nothing but the need of love measured in gallons!
So before you let someone tell you there's something wrong with your brain , look in a mirror and state your name . You are strong and beautiful , and one of a kind . You must live life to the fullest and leave nothing behind .
By Taylor Beaudoin based on real experience
I certainly do.
And I’m not saying I’m depressed or anything (just to avoid any jumping-to-conclusions). I’m a happy person. It’s just that, when all these little wrong things in our lives add up, it feels like there’s nothing left. And, most of the time, the one thing we blame is ourselves.
For instance, a while back, I received a really crappy grade on a math test. I know this is a small, insignificant thing, at least compared to all the stuff you hear on the radio and see on TV. But, in my eyes, it was a blow. Every year I start off with the determination that I’m actually going to do well in math (my weakest subject, obviously). And every test I get back proves otherwise. When I saw that grade, scrawled across the top of my paper, all I could think of were the hours I slaved in my room, dimly lit with the golden light of my table lamp, pouring over pages and pages of old homework. Hours of searching the internet, trying to find suitable sheets to practice with. Hours spent, for nothing.
And after that test, the whole day kinda sucked. Every time I thought of math, or numbers, my stomach dropped and all I could think of was, “You’re stupid.”
I gritted my teeth and ignored the menacing voice in my head. I forced myself to do every piece of homework we were given, to study well before the night before that of the test, to stay focused and be ready for class. Sometimes those strategies worked, other times they didn’t.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, no matter how big or small your problems are, keep your head up and don’t stop fighting. Like the Youtuber Superwoman once said: “There’s going to be a wrestling match, and you’re against a big, buff guy named LIFE. He’s going to knock you out, over and over again, but you just need to force yourself to stand up and do another round, because in the end, that’s what matters. That you got up and tried again.”
"They called me," and I gasp for air, still sobbing. I say the things they called me, things so terrible, even I wouldn't dare call anyone these things. Anyone. More horrible things they called and told me come out. Tatiana tells me to stand up, and I do. I stand, and she hugs me. Before I can stop her, she pulls up my sleeves and sees the scars. Instead of yelling at me like my mother does, she looks at me. "Honey, you need to stop this." I gaze down at the red marks down my arm. They scabbed overnight. I pull down on the sleeves and Tatiana lets go of me. She grabs my head and chin and angles it so she can see it better. "You're beautiful, honey. Those haters out there are just jealous." She pauses. "Stay strong." She tells me to go to class. I tell her I will, but what I don't tell her is that this is the last day I plan to spend on this Earth. What she doesn't know is that my mental health has gotten worse than I let on. Suicidal thoughts had been looming for months. I wanted to leave the pain. The hurt. The everything. I had written her a note that I will leave in my locker, for her to find tomorrow, telling her that I loved her. Instead of going to class, I cut and run home, before my mom does. I have been planning this for days. I grab my nicest dress and put it on, so they don't have to for me. I write a letter.
To everyone I left behind
I did this for me. I could not take it anymore. I'm not going to write that it was me, not you, because it was. You are the ones that pushed me to do this. The abuse. The bullying. Making me feel like I am nothing. But now I am.
Goodbye world,
The girl who lives no more.
I leave the note on the table, where Mother where will find it when she gets home. I don't want to picture her crying or laughing over my body. I'm not sure which one she will do. My classmates and bullies laughing at their success in ruining my life. Tatiana crying and sobbing, as I did this afternoon. Before I can stop myself, my hands grab the pills in the kitchen cabinet and my mouth consumes the contents of the bottle. Feeling my vision go hazy, I stumble up the stairs and feel around my room for the belt I lay out earlier. I fasten around my neck and hang it. I let myself die. My body leaving me and my mind finally shutting down as the light pulls me in and I stumble into God's hands.
Although you had promised me you would make me as happy as can be
You took my thoughts, and twisted my dreams
Even though you had said that we would be working as a team
You took my friends, one by one
I had stupidly believed you when you said nothing would come undone
You took my honesty, made me lie everyday
As you didn’t mention the price I’d have to pay
You took my family, making them worried and confused,
You had failed to mention everything I would have to lose
You took my life, replacing it with yours
Controlling every movement, creating all these laws
You took my body, starved it of the world
You made me nothing to myself, as my life became to unfurl
Then when I realised you were no friend to me,
I had already fallen too far, and you had lost the key.
You had trick me with your deceiving words, you lied and lied to my face
Do you not feel guilty, regretful; do you even admit you’ve lost the race?
For you’ve wreck my life and I just want to let you know
I am not listening anymore so you are more than welcome to go.
I wrote this poem a few months ago struggling to find the strength to overcome anorexia nervosa. It helped me come to terms with everything my eating disorder had made me lose and taken from me, and also all the things I could get back if I could only find the courage to fight.
Topic: Suicide - the commitment of killing oneself intentionally. But lets be honest, that definition doesn’t quite give it justice. Unfortunately no matter how I put it something is bound to be left out as the tornado of emotions that suicide generates cannot be defined in one simple sentence. But hey, lets see if I can give it the old college try at teaching you whatever I can. (Not that I have any first hand experience with anything close to the severity of self-killing.)
The word “suicide” comes from two Latin roots, sui (“of oneself”) and cidium (“killing” or “slaying”). But who cares about that. Your interests in educating yourself upon this subject must uphold a greater purpose than just learning the heritage of the word. Right? Well, to get a true understanding of suicide short of experiencing it yourself will require us to dig a little deeper. Try to keep up!
One's commitment towards suicide is often resorted to out of absolute despair. For most people such a state of misery can only be reached by the misfortune of a mental illness. Said disorders may include: depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder, alcoholism, and drug abuse. Physiological pain and intolerable anguish are just two characteristics of suicide. How many people do you know whom you can relate to either of these descriptions? Probably many more than you would expect. You just aren’t aware of it. How much incentive would it take for you to treat others lovingly? If you knew someone was depressed or bipolar then would you be more kind? As you may not be cognizant of one's issues or illnesses why be negligent towards one another none the less. This is silly. Since everyone is clearly capable of friendliness, respect and affection, then there is no evident reason as to why we can’t exercise our potential goodness. Survivors of suicide attempts often claim a simple hello or an acknowledgment of their existence would have been enough to get them through for one more day. “Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.” - Mother Teresa
Often stress components such as financial predicaments or social struggles are known to play a large role in the senseless self-belligerence. Did you know that over 800 thousand people perish each year from suicide? It’s hard for me to write this, but it’s important that the world has the stomach to read it. There can be no more looking the other way or turning the other cheek so that things don’t need to be dealt with. Well, if you were really affected by any sad statistics that I throw at you; you wouldn’t just choose to forget them after you finish reading.
To put it in the worlds of Chris Nihmey: “We’ve recently undertaken a international holocaust that you probably didn’t even know about. Since just 2006 (8 years past) over six million people have died by suicide.” That's equivalent to (or more than) the amount of Jewish people murdered during WW2. To provide you with further solid information, here are more heart breaking facts.
The global suicide rate is 16 per 100,000 population.
On average, one person dies by suicide every 40 seconds somewhere in the world.
1.8% of worldwide deaths are suicides.
Global suicide rates have increased 60% in the past 45 years.
Each suicide intimately affects at least 6 other people.
There are 2 times as many deaths due to suicide than HIV/AIDS.
On average, one person dies by suicide every 40 seconds somewhere in the world.
There is compelling evidence indicating that adequate prevention and treatment of depression, alcohol and substance abuse can reduce suicide rates.
To conclude: suicide is not a solution. It is a finale act of the exact opposite. If I could say one thing to those of you contemplating taking their own life it would be this: {I don’t need to tell you just how much there is to live for, however, I do need you to know that your impact matters and so does your legacy. The world is most certainly better off with you a part of it. And lastly - #itgetsbetter}. And for all my other readers, need I remind you that it is your honor (not burden) to motivate life, and radiate joy in your aura of existence. So if you are a friend of or even acquaintance to someone experiencing a rough time, please, I implore you to show them that you care and help them to realize, so do they.
Someone who lived in your head shouldn’t have so much power over you, but they did, they do. Someone named Lucy is ruining your life.
That was last year.
People still tell you to eat, but you don’t look sick anymore. You hate this.
You aren’t better, but you’re getting there.
Fewer nights are spent food planning and you haven’t cried over a meal for weeks now. You don’t cry much anymore, but you want to sometimes. You decided that maybe you’ve used up all your tears for a while and try to keep going.
Things are hard for you. Sometimes you wish you were back in hospital.
The nightmares have stopped though. You can close your eyes now and know that you won’t wake up in a pool of sweat.
When you were you younger you wrote Carpe Diem on everything. Books and tissues and blog posts and in the sand. Wherever you went a trail of two, inspirational Latin words followed. It was your legacy. Now they are catching up to you.
You are special. You are worthwhile. You are needed. You can carpe diem.
You can seize the day.
The sea wants to take me
and I am willing to drown
The harsh edges of spiked grass
Do not entice me
Swollen mountains and rolling hills
Are no place for the rest I seek
But the sea calls to me
beckoning with foaming shores
to be consumed by a black abyss
suspended in spacious nothingness
fathoms below; sinking effortlessly
The sea wants to take me
and I am willing to drown
the rough nature of reality
does not encourage me to survive
Trudging through expanses of chaos
Is not the way I intend on living
“Are you having any suicidal thoughts?” the nurse was monotone and systematic – she must have done this so many times before, “Any voices, smells or sounds you’ve been experiencing that no one else has? Do you feel like you’re going to hurt yourself?” I grew frustrated quickly, nothing applied – I felt safe and I told them so. “You’re at a low suicide risk,” she concluded “so you’ll be on fifteen minute checks.” She gave me a list of all of the rules I had to adhere to. They ranged from sensible, “patients must not share personal information” to paranoid “patients must not communicate across the halls or speak in different languages”.
The woman led me to the girl’s bathroom and had me change into a hospital gown while she and another nurse checked my clothes and documented all of my scars. They took away my slippers before they left me to get dressed. Once I was back in my cloths they lead me back to the room with my parents. They smiled awkwardly as I told them I wanted to go home. They knew just as well as I did that there was no chance of that. Accepting my fate, my mom and I made a list of things I would need while I was there. It was like packing for a strange vacation – no strings or spikes or anything that could be used as a weapon. Even my CVS face wipes would have to be locked in the medical closet. Dad stayed with me while my mom went to get my things. “Don’t even do such a stupid thing like this to me again,” he spoke harshly and it upset me. Why couldn’t he understand that what I needed from him was support not punishment? I kissed him goodbye after a while of uncomfortable silence - I wanted to get my bearings on my own. Maybe it was the sudden resentment for my father, but I was feeling pretty independent and suborn.
My “how hard can this be” attitude stayed with me as they led me down to room two at the far end of the hall and away from the nurses’ station. Room two was barren and would serve as my new home for my stay. My stomach dropped as I entered. The room had two beds, two sets of shelves, a high ceiling and a great lack of stimulation. The walls and sheets were starch white except for a completely green flower painted above one of the beds. The plainness of it all made it seem like a jail cell. The real focal point to the room was a large gray screen over the window. It really emphasized the lack of freedom I had. It was impossible to see outside unless the light reflected off of the glass at just the right angle. It was all very new and unsettling. The door, painted with a special paint so it worked as a chalkboard, was covered with a colorful “Yo yo yo” pattern from the last patients who inhabited the room. The door was the only exciting thing about the room – it offered a single element I could control and manipulate without interference from the staff. That small amount of control was all I had, so I clung to it, spending the rest of my settling-in period imagining what I could cover the board with.
When they did eventually come for me, they rushed me around introducing me to strange adults that reminded me of the aunts and uncles you see once a year on Christmas. It was overwhelming the way they expected me to remember everyone’s name. On top of that, the staff seemed too casual and introduced themselves by their first names. I now see that this was an effort to keep us comfortable, but it ruined any patient-counselor relationship I was expecting. The whole ordeal was too informal. “Oh, Charlotte! So nice great to have you!” they all sounded too excited to meet me. My heart ached to go home the more I was told they were happy I was there. I was not happy to be there, couldn’t they see that? Wasn’t it their job to see that? My suffering was broken when a young nurse named Nicole asked me if I would like to attend group in the “Sensory Room”. I gladly obliged.
Walking into group was just as uncomfortable as you’d expect it to be – it felt like being the new kid at school and being introduced for the first time. The room was very similar to a large classroom except for two large tables in the mi
As we know, Character building is a way to build a someone’s character through religion,ideology,education,experiences ,or from their own mind. In the other side, culture differences is also an important thing to be the element in building character. By knowing our culture, wether its history or function we can also be someone who aren’t greedy at all. Our prodecessor has taught ourselves about how to coop with other,always be on your thinking although the other underestimate you, dont easily given up,be wise, and else. What they have taught is only to make this world full of peace. But, many of us disuse it to destroyed the others.
We have to be realize soon, as much as the greedies take over the world, the much problems will also occur. War everywere, human right is gone,and no more honor. Now, don’t fault anyone before it start from us. Let’s learn from our prodecessor, we can do it from the simple first. Honor each other, no matter they’re lower than you or not. For example when someone said their argument, honor it even our argument better than them. By honoring it, we will get the good respon even their cultures are different than us.
We have a lot of cultures, it doesn’t mean to differ one each other. As a human, we’re created to be cooperative with other. So that, we will be united as one power. Culture differentiation is used to split one culture and the other which will make a space between them to revealed what the people thought are right or wrong. When we could respect and honor the other’s culture even their culture are different and wrong, it means we’re building our character too.
What can we build are such as honest, responsibility, believing and honoring each other. For example, we’ve a best pal but his religion is different than us. What should we do when they would have their pray? Of course honoring it in such way as let them go to their pray even there’s an important thing to do. And for the other example is honest, when someone aksed you about your real life. Just be honest, tell them what they want to hear from your own mouth. Well, it will be difficult for the first time. But, when you did it the other will believe in you and no more doubt between us to make a friendship.
And the other thing which also affected our original culture is the globalitazion. Well i’m Indonesian, and what my parents taught me are how they live their life when teen as i am. But, it’s so different with the culture that i face and use it everyday. So, when my parents got mad of me, i have at least a reason to protect myself. But, as the time goes on i realize that not all of the culture from the other country are cool. And also as teenager, we have to pick the culture which is right and proper to our original culture.By doing that, we could be a wise-man and won’t get stuck to bad culture which will also influential our future too. So good luck to choose your own proper culture!!
As we know, Character building is a way to build a someone’s character through religion,ideology,education,experiences ,or from their own mind. In the other side, culture differences is also an important thing to be the element in building character. By knowing our culture, wether its history or function we can also be someone who aren’t greedy at all. Our prodecessor has taught ourselves about how to coop with other,always be on your thinking although the other underestimate you, dont easily given up,be wise, and else. What they have taught is only to make this world full of peace. But, many of us disuse it to destroyed the others.
We have to be realize soon, as much as the greedies take over the world, the much problems will also occur. War everywere, human right is gone,and no more honor. Now, don’t fault anyone before it start from us. Let’s learn from our prodecessor, we can do it from the simple first. Honor each other, no matter they’re lower than you or not. For example when someone said their argument, honor it even our argument better than them. By honoring it, we will get the good respon even their cultures are different than us.
We have a lot of cultures, it doesn’t mean to differ one each other. As a human, we’re created to be cooperative with other. So that, we will be united as one power. Culture differentiation is used to split one culture and the other which will make a space between them to revealed what the people thought are right or wrong. When we could respect and honor the other’s culture even their culture are different and wrong, it means we’re building our character too.
What can we build are such as honest, responsibility, believing and honoring each other. For example, we’ve a best pal but his religion is different than us. What should we do when they would have their pray? Of course honoring it in such way as let them go to their pray even there’s an important thing to do. And for the other example is honest, when someone aksed you about your real life. Just be honest, tell them what they want to hear from your own mouth. Well, it will be difficult for the first time. But, when you did it the other will believe in you and no more doubt between us to make a friendship.
And the other thing which also affected our original culture is the globalitazion. Well i’m Indonesian, and what my parents taught me are how they live their life when teen as i am. But, it’s so different with the culture that i face and use it everyday. So, when my parents got mad of me, i have at least a reason to protect myself. But, as the time goes on i realize that not all of the culture from the other country are cool. And also as teenager, we have to pick the culture which is right and proper to our original culture.By doing that, we could be a wise-man and won’t get stuck to bad culture which will also influential our future too. So good luck to choose your own proper culture!!
Hurt yourself. Repeat.
This time it’s for sure, 100 percent.
You’re done. Admit defeat.
Trapped in a game of Russian roulette you never asked to play.
When tears hit your eyes, are you happy or sad that you won again today?
FORGIVENESS
In 1964, there was a boy by the name Patrick Gray. He was 10 year old. He has been through so much. It would put a grown man in tears. Patrick was a lonely kid, like the wind blowing in the wild sky. He tried so hard to give his life a place. The kid had no home, no life, with no one. He lived in a box on the side of the Superstore, as he sat crying. Because he was so jealous of the other kids, that had a life, that had a home. So he drifted in the some of the most painful memories. When he was 5 years old, he still had his mom and dad. They all lived together in Iraq in a mud home his dad built for his loving family. The day after they built it, Patrick put a hole in the wall and wow wow boy! Patrick thought, “Did my dad ever look so mad!” He was furious, but no smacking, no hitting, no beating of any sort like Patrick got from his previous step dads when he did something bad. Nothing he said. That’s wierd he said inside himself. It felt like 1 hour went by but it had only been one minute. His dad still was looking at him and then at the hole. Finally, he spoke. Patrick twitched, thinking he was going to be struck, but as he blinked he saw his dad not mad anymore - but calm - very calm. He started to talk softly again. “My boy do not be frightened.” “For I have forgiven you.” Patrick looked at his dad in confusion. In Patrick’s confusion he looked around the word and the meaning of FORGIVE. The word played over and over again in his head like a broken record. His dad started again. “Son there is nothing worse than hatred and being mad...and staying mad at someone will never never help anything - please tell me you understand?” Patrick said yes dad, I do, while he wrapped his mind around the whole thing, had to have this, so he talked to his dad. He said, “ I want to be able to do what you just did- to forgive.” Dad said come here, Do you know JESUS Christ our Savior? Patrick said, “No I would love to know.” “Then, I will show you”, said dad.
A startling noise brought Patrick back from his deep sleep. “KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!!!!!!! This noise woke him up the was someone at the end of his box. It was another kid. Are you ok Patrick said...Yes said the kid. “It is just this kid is being mean to me”. Patrick said, “You want to know something about bullies when they bother you? They start the name calling, the pain and it hurts - you should remember this, GOD sees them, GOD sees you, so don’t become them. You are better than that. If and when they come and if they do anything that hurts you like a big pain, with GOD by your side with you, scream it out loud: “I forgive you!”
At that point in time you will be overwhelmed with the love and the holiness of God our Father. YOU WILL CRY, You will laugh, you will feel so relieved. Never show your anger to the enemy, For that is there fault, they will pick on you until you feel like there no way out for you to see the truth. The bully is just confused . Don’t call him a retard or anything that could be at all hurtful. You should always be nice to him and he will realise that he is the one in the wrong.
Patrick said, “May God be with you my friend” . “God bless you”. Patrick thought to himself, “Where did that come from? I did not know what I was talking about”. But in a way, Patrick knew it was GOD that spoke, through him. Patrick went back to bed and said a prayer. He fell asleep and started to dream - Mom, dad, wow how I miss you so much. That night Patrick dreamed his mom and dad were in a mall getting clothes. Patrick was with them. They were in Iraq.
They were having so much fun. Patrick's mom and dad went to the food court. Patrick wanted to hold the door open for people. So they went, and he stayed. For about 3 minutes, all was well. Then - BOOM! Ten big guys with ski masks on their heads came running through the door that Patrick was holding. Patrick ran from it, not even thinking about his parents - only about getting away. He turned around and saw something he feared so much to see - something that would kill any normal person inside. The terrorist took these people. They were his mom and dad. As they saw him they both tried to run to him. Then two striking bangs pierced the air and there was blood everywhere - Patrick ran to their side - “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!! he screamed
“Boy are you ok? Boy, wake up….” one big light went across his eyes and woke him up. “ You were screaming” . The police officer said to Patrick. “Come with me boy, you are better than this box and this life”.
Patrik was moved in to a good home. He was adopted by these kind Christian folks.
Today, he is 50 years old and continues to preach to people around the world. He is a preacher. Witho
Remember when life
was care-free?
When problems were never bigger
than a lost crayon or toy.
When we were little kids
with little running shoes
playing outside in the sunshine.
And then we grow.
Our first day of kindergarten
We think it’s a scary yet amazing place
Full of new toys, new fun, new friends, and new challenges.
And then we grow.
We start elementary school
And things get sort of tricky
Some kids aren't nice
Some teachers aren't nice
There’s more work, and even more challenges,
but there’s still fun.
And then we grow.
Another school.
It’s bigger and scarier.
People - friends - have changed.
Betrayal, rumours, homelwork, peer-pressure.
This is where the confusion begins . . .
And then we grow.
We’re now teens.
Not children, not adults.
The human equivalent to a ship lost at sea,
Ships that aren’t floating, but ships that are drowning,
Drowning under the weight of youth:
School, friends, love, family . . .
But the heaviest weight of all can be the thought of our future.
We’re ships lost at sea; where are we headed?
Are we bound for a shipwreck, or to become castaways on an empty island?
We’re sailing across stormy waters, through treacherous winds
that seem only to be pulling us further away from where we need to go.
Altogether, this essay challenges readers to think about disability a new, enlightening way- with a mind to “sufferers” as subject to isolation, assumed and fictitious societal norms, and over-emphasis on strict demands of success and failure. I found myself wholeheartedly in agreement with the authors’ stance and approach, with their study shedding light on my own personal experiences and observations within society and the classroom.
One example that the authors employ which was highly effective in terms of my own grasping of their central point was the reference and description of H.G. Wells’ short story, “The Country of the Blind” (1904). In this tale, the protagonist called Nunez stumbles upon an isolated valley, a society filled solely with blind persons. While he views himself to be at an advantage due to this ability to see, the society is in fact organized exclusively for the blind down to the smallest detail. Nunez is deemed as “diseased” by the majority, with his brain “in a state of constant irritation and destruction”. After a call for the surgical removal of Nunez’ head, the hero successfully escapes. What was initially deemed as “advantage”, according to Nunez, became “handicap” or “disability” based on the perceived norms and institutions of the larger society. This story seemed to me to be demonstrative of the central thesis of the essay, turning topsy-turvy the idea of what can be perceived as “disability” for a given culture or society, as well as shedding light on the potentially dangerous ramifications categorization and labeling can have on the development and/or inclusion of students and individuals. This relates to the authors’ definition of culture as “not so much a product of sharing as a product of people hammering each other into shape with the well-structured tools already available”.
The authors go on to focus on American education in relation to ideas of disability and culture. They maintain that we must look past the many labels now employed to describe troubled or under-achieving children, such as “deprived”, “different”, “disabled”, or “disadvantaged” and focus on problems as a “product of cultural arrangements- a product of our own activities- as much as a product of the isolated facts about the neurology, personality, language, or culture of any child”. They go on to directly accuse people as using “established cultural forms to define those who do not work on the ‘right’ things, for the ‘right’ reason, or the ‘right’ way”, setting up a society in which many people develop or think they have disabilities.
What I find the most interesting segment of this article is when the authors bring up biological disorders (alcoholism, autism, schizophrenia), learning “disabilities”, (ADD, illiteracy, etc), and others such as eating disorders, anxiety, and depression as all worthy of complex and critical analysis. This really struck me in relation to current and seemingly never-ending stigmas surrounding mental illness in our modern society. Having been diagnosed myself with anxiety and eating disorders in the past, I have always had the assumption that these categories placed me in an “abnormal” section of American society, that I was not able to “think correctly” in relation to the majority of my peers. It was frustrating that these conditions are often treated as nuisances or hindrances to academic and personal development by popular media or those in positions of authority. This article really challenged me to look at mental illness in a different light, with the “culture as disability” approach in mind.
Overall, I agree with McDermott
Hello. I’m a twelve year old girl. In grade 4, I was told i had anxiety issues and should go see a psychiatrist. So I did. Everything went well. Life was good. I had a loyal group of friends, good grades and a loving family. I continued to see this doctor, and my anxiety was improving. Grade 5 started. Little did I know, when I started the school year, the next two years of my life would be a living hell. It all started when one of my close friends, let’s give her the name Jane, started to ignore me for no reason. Poor, little, innocent me had never had anything happen like this to me, so my anxiety got worse. None of my friends knew what was happening, but I had a feeling she knew what she was doing to me. She would ignore me for an hour. Then a day. Then a week. When she wasn’t ignoring me, I was her puppet. I would do anything to not go through that again. No matter what, it still happened. First it was just ignoring. Then dirty looks from across the classroom whenever I raised my hand to speak. I refused to speak, just to not get those looks. I rarely spoke. After, it was looks for no reason. Just as I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. She started talking about me behind my back. Word got around. Words hurt. One day in the spring of grade 5, I stayed home one day after being tormented by her for a week. I refused to leave, tears rolling down my cheeks. I began to see the doctor more. Out of the blue, Jane would stop. I couldn’t bring up what mental pain she had just caused me, because I couldn’t risk it. I went back to being her puppet.
Grade 5 ended. Summer came. Jane had targeted others, in fact, everyone in our little group. We couldn’t just ditch her. It didn’t work that way, we all knew that. We had to continue to live in our own torture chamber. My anxiety got worse as grade 6 started. Then some OCD kicked in. I don’t think my parents ever found out about the OCD. They probably don’t even know as I’m writing this. I developed little “habits” let’s say. I believed that if I did them, Jane wouldn’t bully me. Of course, she still did, but my brain failed to register this. It started with wearing the same shirt every Wednesday. Then what I would eat after school. What to do with my hair everyday (ponytail and headband every single day). No matter what my mind believed, she would still torment me. I never found out why, and I don’t think I ever will. November of grade 6, Jane took it to the extremes. She ignored me, dissed me, and gave me looks for about a month straight. Over my birthday. I remember crying on my birthday in my bedroom, not wanting to go to school, my mom comforting me, telling me to stop, but not actually doing anything about the issue. We eventually “made up”. Don’t get me wrong, it still went on. The “habits” got worse, more dangerous. No one knew how bad it got. It reached a new extreme. I would throw up whatever I ate for breakfast, every school morning, because I was so stressed out. Only my parents knew about this. Every morning from April to June. I guess my mental health finally took a toll on my physical health. The anxiety and OCD left me going to school hungry, but not able to eat. The last few months of elementary school was hell. I just wanted to get away from her. I finally did. I think it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I still have slight anxiety issues, but I don’t need to see anyone anymore, and I managed to lose the OCD, and now I eat my breakfast every morning, and it stays down. Now without her in my life and my OCD, I can finally be myself.
I know that everyone goes through things like this, but some people always feel alone. I just want you to know that you’re not alone. Try seeing someone, or just listening to some music where the artist gets you. Stay strong.
don't know if I can wait.
This trembling and shaking,
appears to be my state.
The sweating in my palm;
the thumping in my chest;
the lump stuck in my throat;
I cannot be at my best.
Looking around,
someone has to be watching.
The voice in my head
tells me to continue with caution.
The fear overcomes me,
so does the worry.
I have generalized anxiety,
and I must continue to hurry.
"Dramaturgy" is a easy concept to understand because we all know that we act in this approach everyday. We use dramaturgy in the way we come off to other people and how people understand us. It is the concept of the front stage and the back stage. We have our front stage, the stage we show other individuals. The way we want others to view us, the "proper" approach. We then have our back stage. This consists of how we actually feel about situations, ourselves and other people... more like the "natural" of it all. We never really think about dramaturgy because we are always interacting with other people. We always have our front stage on in order to do things properly. The front stage approach isn't a bad thing, in fact it is very useful. The issue with always carrying around the front stage of the self is that it can be easy to get caught up in this stage. Getting caught up in the front stage of the self, an individual can easily loose track of how they actually feel and what they actually believe in. We simply get caught up in acting in front of other individuals that we forget that other people have back stages as well. Thinking about this, a lot of our interactions are fake. These interactions are usually short and meaningless. Some won't realize this till later though, and thats where we get to be ourselves. Think about a bad day you once had. You were stuck at work, or at a event and you had to keep yourself together through a proper approach. I bet it wasn't easy, and as individuals we probably go through this a lot more than we realize. Every thought, every idea, you had to shut down in your mind. We shut down how we feel sometimes in order to keep the moment in time how it was "suppose" to be or simply because whatever we may be saying to ourselves will become rejected in many ways according to other people. We all understand this concept, but we need to focus on the backstage of it all. We never think of an individuals back stage because it isn't there, easy as that. It's what means the most and in order to keep in a thought we have to think about how other people are feeling. We will never necessarily know, but think of these moments where you treat someone the way you want to be treated. This way everyone's back stage is a little happier. To be honest, I'm sure this isn't as easy in today's world as we would like it to be. When we all start our day, we have to understand people are feeling the same as you. Everyone has been through hard situations in life, we all have loved, we all have lost, we all have won. Some people more than others but if you feel hurt one day you have to remember there a lot of other people out there like you. You realize there isn't much that makes people different from one another. It's about appearances and peoples front stages that make us think they are different from us. It's like why we are closer to some people and some not at all. Sure, a lot of people have different interests and views but a decent conversation between the two about feelings really won't change much. A lot of people don't understand this as it is so easy to judge people. People are a lot different than what it use to be like, there are all kinds of people out there now. We fail at certain interactions- in fact most of us don't give the opportunity at all. People are failing to understand everyone has a story. It is to understand, everyone has a story. A story that means something to them, a story that has changed them and a story that makes them who they are. I've never met anyone without a story and people fail at opening up to it. By sharing stories, you realize you in fact can have a lot in common with someone. So see it as this, the next time you are interacting with someone and are quick to judge whether it be for all their good qualities or bad qualities remember your story, think of their story and think about what is behind them. There is a lot laid behind someone that has forever changed them and it won't be the end for them nor for you.
Keep your head high- Be proud, be thankful, be happy for yourself and for everyone around you because we are all accomplishing something.
What do you see?
This emptiness,
buried deep in me.
My skin so thick,
is what I show.
My heart so heavy,
they just don't know.
My tears of pain,
fall down my cheek.
This secret I hold,
they don't know I keep.
This false perception I choose to live,
but these words of advice are what I give.
A day not comes and a day not goes,
that I think to myself
this feeling shows.
I hide them,
Oh I must hide them well.
Behind this mask,
they couldn't tell.