chapter one: the broken girl in the coffee shop

chapter one: the broken girl in the coffee shop

she was not the type of girl to wait around after school just to watch you walk to your locker.

she would not wait around at the coffee shop after your practice just to watch you order your large strawberry flavoured water and yoghurt parfait cup.

she would not give you the answers to yesterday’s homework no matter how important that game or practice was, ” or was it a party this time?” she’d ask in an almost sarcastic tone.

she was a tough one, there was a certain stubbornness to her that you admired.

her light brown eyes had seen some of the darkest days you are yet to experience, but you loved it, you loved how she managed to get through it all.

she was not dying to get to know you, but god knows you would do anything to get to know her better.

the quiet girl who just transferred from california, was that her name? her name!  you don’t even know her name.

you started to stay after school to get a glance of her on her way to her car, backpack half open, hair a mess.  it was cute.  you thought it was cute.

after your practice at the coffee shop you would glance around hoping some day she would be sitting alone reading her favourite book, then you’d approach her right then and there and get her name.

weeks go by, she seems to have disappeared.  you see her occasionally when walking from class to class.

apparently, she has been seeing someone. someone who you know is not any good for her, but as long as she is happy right?

one night in the coffee shop you glance over at the brunette girl with light brown eyes sitting next to someone.

you hear the pain in her words as she opens her mouth, voice trembling, ” we were doing so well”

minutes go by and there she is alone.  wiping the tears off of her rosy cheeks.

you grew angry with yourself, why didn’t you comfort her? why didn’t you go and sit by her? ask her if she was okay?

these thoughts attacked your panicked mind until you got up and walked over.

there you were sitting next to the broken girl in the coffee shop.

no words were exchanged, as she placed her head in the warmth of your embrace.

she doesn’t have her car, so you’ll drive her home.

you won’t ever forget that rainy night or the dark pink and purple sky.

she lives close but you don’t mind taking her.  you hope she feels better, and not alone.

you got up and out of your chair, let her feel her emotions without having to hide them behind her grey tear stained sweatshirt.  drove her home so she’d be safe.  you offered to stay in case she didn’t want to be alone.

little do you know she’ll remember this night forever

mt

 

depression.

featured image via Panna Bagoly 

depression.

It’s time to talk about something very serious and something that isn’t talked about as much as it should be.
Depression.
Just that 10 letter word can scare some people and cause them anxiety. It may even instantly bring flashbacks of some dark times. If it doesn’t – I’m truly happy for you, because that means you didn’t have to go through this.
I have GAD (Generalised Anxiety Disorder) ever since I remember existing, and still suffer with it to this day. It doesn’t have a cure and I know I’m going to have to live with this for the rest of my life. One thing that has to be taken into account – and that took me years to realise- is that the fact that I’m going to live with this forever doesn’t necessarily mean that I have to let my disorder define me or my actions. It doesn’t have to take over my life.
If you suffer from anxiety just like me, let me tell you that there’s plenty of ways of getting help. You don’t have to suffer in silence, nor should you. That isn’t healthy and will only make the big monster that is anxiety grow more and more as time goes by.
When we decide to stay in silence, to keep our thoughts to ourselves, to silently cry every night under the duvet… that’s when anxiety decides to call a friend of his. Depression.
I have no doubts that to some this might come as a surprise: the fact that anxiety actually affects people that much and the fact that anxiety walks hand in hand with depression most times.
Suffering from anxiety doesn’t mean you’re always going to be depressed, but if the disorder isn’t treated as it should if the person suffering doesn’t seek for help, that black and chunky monster will most likely make its way into the body and start messing with the mind.
I’ll give my personal experience as an example.
Like I previously said, I’ve lived with my disorder ever since I remember existing, and it has been a terribly hard battle to fight.
My anxiety has made it extremely difficult for me to make new friendships, to speak in front of a crowd, to ask for a drink in a bar… but there was one year when I was 12 years of age when things were different.
I knew that what I was feeling wasn’t just anxiety.
In 2012 I started doubting myself. And when I wasn’t doubting myself, or even actually feeling good about myself one day, when night time approached, I’d always find myself crying in my bedroom and listening to sad songs.
That summer I fell out of some friendships and was struggling a lot with my self-confidence. It came to the point where I looked at myself in the mirror and wanted to cry due to how I looked, my appearance. I looked at all my friends in their swimwear, so confident and beautiful, just to look down at my tummy and wish it wasn’t that big.
The friendships I had slowly fell apart thanks to my “friends” constantly making little remarks about my tastes and sometimes even how I looked or what I wore. They made fun of me, whether I was around or not. It made me feel little in comparison to them, and many were the days and nights when I cried because their words kept playing in my mind like a broken record.
That was when the depression started. It started slowly, with my self doubt, then it escalated to seeing the ones who were once by my side walk past me and not even say a word, or laugh.
This all happened during Summer, that time of the year where you’re supposed to have no worries, to enjoy those three months to the fullest, to have fun… but I wasn’t doing that. I remember that many were the days when after lunch I’d go to my room and cry.
I was sad every single day and rare were the times I could plaster a smile across my face.
My elder sister and mom were extremely preocuppied with my condition and even told me multiple times I should try and see a therapist. But my answer was always no. At 12 years of age, I was one of those that thought “only the crazy or really sick ones need to see a therapist”. It makes me cringe that I actually thought like that. Silly me!
But I did end up going to see a therapist. I only made that decision because one of my sister’s friends had a conversation with me. He told me he knew how I was feeling, because my sister had shared her worries for me with him. That made my heart hurt and that was when I started crying. I still have this episode very present on my mind. I cried for a solid hour, listening to everything our friend had to say and tried to explain what I was feeling. If you have dealt/are dealing with depression, you know how hard it is to explain what you’re going through when sometimes not even you understand.
It was by the end of that conversation that I made up my mind. I was, indeed, going to see a therapist.
As soon as school started in September I started seeing my school’s therapist.
I was there every week for two years. It helped! It really did, and that’s no lie. If you think that talking to a stranger won’t help – you’re wrong. Sometimes talking to someone who doesn’t know a single thing about you is just what you need. You won’t feel judged.
I stopped the therapy sessions because I was better. So much better. My confidence had grown a bit and my anxiety was more controllable. And the depression? It wasn’t there anymore.
I’m trying to be as raw and truthful as I can. So I will say that maybe the decision myself and the therapist made wasn’t the best. I shouldn’t have left Therapy. I should’ve kept going every week, even if I only went to talk to her about my day!
But I didn’t and things were good for a good couple of months! Maybe a year.
But there’s something people need to understand about anxiety and depression: it comes and goes.
And that’s what happened to me. Depression eventually came back, and I was back to crying alone in my room, to doubting myself, comparing my figure to others… But I didn’t go back to Therapy. I dealt with it myself – and that made me grow into a much stronger person.
I should’ve dealt with those two monsters by myself? No, I shouldn’t and I don’t think it is recommendable. But was by my own that I learnt to deal with my anxiety in situations no one was going to be able to help me. It was like I injected some postivity into my brain.
Now, if you’re going through one of these dark phases and haven’t gone and look for help, I don’t want in any way to encourage you to stay that way. Please do seek for help. Talk to someone, whether that is one of your parents, a therapist, a friend… someone you know that’s going to listen and try to understand you. Someone that’s going to be there for you along the way.
Anxiety walks hand in hand with me everyday, and it doesn’t matter if I want it to hold my hand or not, because it’s tied and glued. It won’t leave, but I’ve learnt to deal with it. To control it.
One thing I still have to quite learn to deal with is my depression. It’s the monster that still scares me every time it appears.
If you’re dealing with depression, please don’t let it spread. I can’t stress enough the fact that you should look for a Therapist, seek for help and take care of yourself.
We are all unique in our way (no matter how cheesy that sounds) and we’re all worth it. We were all put into this planet with a purpose and if you haven’t, you’ll eventually find yours.
Depression isn’t just feeling sad. The word is actually thrown around like something with litte significance, when in reality it is something very serious and complicated.
Depression can start with people doubting themselves, to hate the way they look, the way they speak, the way they walk. People think no one cares for them, “no one would miss me if I just disappeared”. People are going through a very delicate and storng pain, and gain pleasure from causing even more hurt to themselves, because they feel like they deserve it. Depression leads to anxiety, to suicide… Depression isn’t a joke and it sure isn’t something to be used as a joke. It’s an illness that just keeps on getting more current in our society and it needs to be taken in count just as seriously as other illnesses.
We have to raise awareness for mental health. People who suffer with any sort of mental health illness have to feel comfortable talking to someone, have to understand that they’re not alone. And in our generation, I think we still have a long way to go for people to feel like that.
If you suffer with depression and have an anxiety disorder/panic attacks or any sort of mental illness I just want you to know that you’re not alone, ok? You’re not. There’s a way out of all this mess and even though it won’t disapeear and will always be a part of you it doesn’t have to define you. It doesn’t define you. Just like my therapist once told me “You are not your disorder”.
No matter how hard it might be to understand this and believe it, everything is going to be fine, eventually. You just have to treat yourself.
Us humans are like plants. We have to keep on watering ourselves in order to keep flourishing and keep on getting healthier and healthier!
I know that my words aren’t going to cure anyone, and that that are some that might feel confused or frustrated because the depression they’re going through isn’t exactly like this. But I hope most of you find some smiliarities in my story and understand that it is possible to get better and that seeking for help is crucial. It’s that click we have to take in order to start the journey that is trying to make that huge black monster get out of our body and mind. It is possible, and you can do it.
I’d love to hear some of your stories and to help in any way that I can.
Feel free to leave a comment down below telling me your story and journey living with anxiety, depression or both. Who knows maybe there’ll be people who read it and identify themselves?
If you relate to any comment, why not reply and spread a little positivity?
I’d love to read your stories and try to contribute with my words as much as I can.
And always remember: you’re not your disorder, you’re not your depression – these things don’t define you. You are a human that needs to be taken care of and that needs to be watered in order to keep on flourishing. You are unique and needed in this world. Stay strong and remember that nothing’s impossible. You’ll fight this battle and kick anxiety/depression in the ass. I believe in you!

I’m Scared

featured image via Panna Bagoly

 

I’m Scared 

 

No matter how loud I scream

No one hears me

I plead and I beg

Stop please

But the agony continues

Every move I make

Every word I say

Is wrong.

I try and hide from all of this

4 walls that when I am enclosed in I should feel safe

Not today

Today I feel far from safe

Scared and fearful

Underneath the blankets in the darkness

The tears fall and I want nothing more than for it to stop

Once again

No one can hear me.

The Youth

featured image via Pinterest 

 

Is it okay

that I’ve given up

that I have stopped believing in

Any kind of hope for

us dark-thinking teens?

Is it okay

that I’ve bitten all my nails

again,

That my anxiety is so intimidating

I plan my every move

to please it?

 

Will it all disappear

When the hormones smooth out

and we lock ourselves in cramped college dorms

or become working professionals

with fake families?

It’s hard to believe.

But you don’t really care,

Do you?

you say all we need

Is attention

But we are not getting any

no matter how vulnerable we

make ourselves

no matter how much skin we show

 

no matter how much we scream

all alone in an

Empty bathroom stall

No matter how much

we hope to god

someone at least says hello

 

I can’t peg down this feeling, so I say

I’m tired.

We are the sleepless generation and

“Tired”

Is the excuse of the century

exhaustion has become an emotion

because saying we’re ‘depressed’

is attention-seeking

And, after all

we’re leaning on 3 hours of sleep

Due to the milky insomnia

and why don’t they care

that the youth dreams of a happiness

that we’ll never get

 

because nothing changes

The world is still plastic

(but my mouth still tastes like metal).

And we don’t morph into geniuses

with perfect nails overnight.

maybe I’ll just

Wear pink and cut my hair

and hope it changes me.

Fin.

a n x i e t y attack.

seconds seem like hours
hours seem like seconds
my hands tremble
my hands are numb
my heart aches
my heart hurts
please, make this stop
it doesn’t stop
it won’t stop
this is forever
“this is intertwined with you” my mind shouts
my inner voice shouts at my own head
pleads for this to come to an end
this is unbearable
why is everyone looking at me?
why am i sweating so much?
why is this room so light? someone turn the lights out.
oh my god, i’m going to die!
we’re all going to die someday
i don’t want to die.
someone reaches out to me
grabs my hand,
i freeze.
i look at the person in front of me and i know they’re speaking
i can’t hear anything
my ears are buzzing
i’m yearning for this to come to an end
no one understands
no one knows how this feels
tears stream down my cheeks
the person in front of me reaches out to me with a cup of water
i grab it
half of the liquid pours out the cup into my jeans
a cold feeling
this feels good within the fire my body is in
my hands are still shaking
i grab the pill the person has in their hand and put it in my mouth
i grab the cup and take a sip, shaking
the room isn’t light
my ears aren’t buzzing as much
my hands aren’t shaking as much as i lay in bed
my heart isn’t beating at a thousand miles per second
it isn’t aching
my head’s aching now
my eyes feel heavy
i close them
i let out a deep, shaky breath.
time for my body and mind to rest
tomorrow is another day
my a n x i e t y doesn’t define me
i’m not my illness
tomorrow is going to be a better day…
tomorrow is going to be a better day.

The Few, The Proud and the Emotional – Passion for music.

There’s people that think music can’t save anyone. There’s people that think music can’t save anyone. Well, let me tell you that it can. Teenagers nowadays are very dedicated to music. We spend most of our days with our earphones plugged in, listening to our favorite songs, to those that make us feel happy and that can make an horrible day feel a bit better. Music truly does have that power over us humans.We constantly have our parents, other relatives or maybe even friends moaning at us for listening to so much music, for constantly wanting to go to concerts and for wanting to always get our hands on those physical copies of albums we love.

For those who don’t understand why we listen to so much music?

⦁ This generation suffers with a lot of anxiety, depression and various illnesses. We all need a get away, right? Some people watch movies and eat ice cream when they’re not feeling their best – some happen to listen to music; some people like the silence and prefer to go on a drive with the radio off – some happen to have the habit of always turning the radio on as soon as they step foot on the car and put the volume at its highest. Everyone has different always of dealing with moments of happiness, sadness and everything that’s in between… why should music be considered such a foolish way of coping? It isn’t any different from going to a therapist. There’s people that can recover from whatever dark place they find themselves in by listening to their favorite band and attending one of their concerts, just like there’s people that do need therapy and music isn’t even an option. That has to do with how dark the place is and with the personality of the person.

For those who roll their eyes at how we always want to go to concerts? We must be brats, right? Well, I actually roll my eyes at those who think like that.

⦁ Speaking in general, of course, us music lovers don’t just want to go to concerts to simply post an Instagram afterwards and show that we were actually there. The majority of us wants to go to a concert – needs to go to a concert – because that band or that artist really did change our lives and helped us in a way. Yeah, might sound crazy to some, but music can be a lifesaver. I’ll speak for myself. 2014 wasn’t a good year for me. I wasn’t in a good state mentally, with depression still crawling its way around my body and not wanting to let go and anxiety always holding my hand along the way. One thing that kept me going that year and that truly made me genuinely happy? The fact that I was seeing one of my favorite bands live in a stadium. When the day came, I was the happiest. I was at my best. Life simply could not get any better! That concert still holds a very special place in my heart because I feel like I left most of my sorrow and sad feelings there. I cried during the majority of the show, due to the high level of happiness I was in. You know when people say that sometimes all you need is a good cry? Well, I had my good cry in a stadium, listening to some of my favorite songs being played live, whilst screaming the lyrics and feeling like I was on cloud nine.

Why do we still get physical copies of albums? There’s iTunes, Apple Music, Spotify… right?

⦁ Let me just roll my eyes once again, ok? Thanks.

 Just like there’s people that like to go shopping and actually try clothes before buying them, there’s those who like to do their shopping while seating in the sofa. Applying it to this situation: just like there’s people who like to get the album via iTunes, there’s those who prefer to run to a CD store and get the physical copy. To touch the masterpiece they love or already know they’re going to love.

So, it’s a matter of taste, really.

Don’t be so quick to judge and don’t stay ridiculous stuff like “how can a band/artist, someone that you never even met (in some cases this can’t even be said) have saved you?” because music actually does save people and brings a crazy amount of happiness.

Music has helped me overcome some dark phases and it is my great escape when I’m not feeling at my best or even when I’m the happiest!

For example, you have no idea how long it took for me to write all of this. It’s easy for people to think these publications are written very quickly and easily. That everything just flows. And, ok, that is true at times – most of the time. But there’s also those days, weeks, even months when my  mind just stops… Writers block. One of the worst things to exist! I mean, I’m already pretty messed up up there, why did I have to be “blessed” with such thing as a block?! A block that doesn’t let me express my emotions through words?

Basically, I was going through writers block before writing this, even though I had settled four pretty good ideas for four different articles. I couldn’t write down more than a phrase for each one… that was, untl I decided to just sit with my computer on my lap, plug in my earphones and play one of my favorite bands’ songs to help me with this process.

So, thank you Twenty One Pilots for helping me write all of this in an hour when I thought I wouldn’t be able to write anything for a month or so. Wouldn’t be the first time!

TOP have immensely helped me with my anxiety and sad thoughts. I discovered this band in 2015 and it truly was one of the best things that’s happened to me! Whenever I’m feeling more anxious, when something really is pissing me off, when I want to cry, when I want to shout lyrics at the top of my lungs I just play their songs on shuffle.

I wish more people actually understood the meaning behind their songs, even though it might be taken as a good thing that some people don’t understand, since that means they never had to go through any sort of mental illness. Their songs aren’t all directed to this subject but I do interpret most of them as being so. But, like they say in one of their songs (“Message Man”) from their latest album Blurryface, “these lyrics aren’t for everyone only few understand”, it’s for “the few, the proud and the emotional” (Fairly Local).

I hope that those who didn’t understand us music addicts and lovers that well now do… even if that’s just a tiny bit. And if you’re just like me, see – you’re not alone! And if one more person tells you something that upsets you or makes you feel like you’ve shrinked in size due to your love and dedication (healthy dedication!) just try to educate them. Explain why you love music so much and why it has a big meaning to you. Expand their horizons! Now go blast some music and be happy.

No Going Back

Adrenaline rushed through my veins, I had a perfect shot. I pushed the bi-pod to the ground, steadying my shot. Looking through the site I caught his arm in my line of view. Taking my head away from the deadly weapon, a smirk found it’s way upon my face. Time slowed, I could feel wind rushing by my ears, only emphasizing the blood pounding in my brain. I paused, taking in my surroundings. To my left, storm clouds moved close at an alarming rate, making the evening sky an even darker hue. On the right was a couple, gazing lovingly at each other. Light glinted off of an engagement ring, slapping the smirk of my face and replacing it with a scowl. I felt rage bubble up inside of me, I should have that! That should be me and Aashi! It’s been three years since our wedding day, three years since I opened my mouth to chant ‘I do’, three years since I’ve been waiting for this moment. Three years!

I took a deep breath through my nose, smelling everything around me. Baked goods from the bakery in front of me, spices floating from the restaurant through the air. Trees and nature behind me, luring me into a sense of security. I could smell the incoming storm raging beside me, hear the thunder claps it brings with it wherever it goes. Lowering my head to the site one last time, a million thoughts polluted my brain with a murky smog. This is my last chance. I have one shot, one shot, this is the last moment I will have without eyes peering down my back, ready to attack. After this, I know my fate. Prison. Others may know this as the day I threw my life away for the sake of revenge, but I will know, I did not have a life to throw away, because Brock Johnson killed me the day he shot my wife, Aashi Patel.

Forefinger on the trigger, my thumb moved and pulled the safety. I glanced one last time to make sure Johnson was in the dead center of my target. As I exhaled I pulled back on the trigger, getting ready to release the pressure and end it all. I relax my muscles and-

Scream

Pain shoots through my back and I feel a warm wetness drip down my back. My breath is shaky, I try to turn and see what happened but I fall to the ground, blood pooling up underneath me. I cough, vaguely tasting iron and feeling a thick substance running out of my mouth. It feels like lives have passed, but some small part of my brain tells me it’s scarcely been minutes. Heavy breaths and sobs attempt to dive through my body, but fail miserably. My brain moves a mile a minute trying to sit back up and just shoot! I feel my breaths get shallower and farther apart as my brain gets dimmer. I faintly hear screams coming from around me and a child crying. I could feel someone’s feet pounding on the ground, putting their hand on my shoulder.

Ma’am? Ma’am are you alright? What is your name? There is help on the way. Their voice sounded hollow, like they were underwater. Or maybe I was underwater.

I turned my head so I looked at the sky. The storm was upon us and rain was pouring down, teardrops falling from the sky mixing with the raindrops leaking from my eyes. A new storm arriving as an old one leaves. A smile played on my lips. My eyes shifted from the storm to the woman attempting to comfort me.

“It’s okay” I whisper, to myself or the woman, I do not know. I inhale as much as I can, and exhale one last time. Because I know, this time, there’s no going back.