Talking To Talk, Writing To Write.

Writing for the sake of writing. That’s pretty well what my life consists of. Between that and coaching grade 9/10 girls on how over rated dating at their age is , in my opinion (which I do enjoy, don’t get me wrong); that is my regular day.

Do I say anything that they haven’t heard before or will make a lasting impact? Probably not but that isn’t the point. When you ask for a friend’s advice on a situation, are you really looking for guidance? Maybe but most of the time, if you don’t like what they say you’ll do what you want anyway, even if you know they’re right. What you’re really looking for is to see that they care and that is why I tell the same 6 girls that the guy who’s trying to make out with them at a party or the person that they like but doesn’t know she exists, isn’t going to matter in a year (or less) and that they should just chill out and enjoy the time they have. I speak, not so that what I say will resonate, but in the hope that the mere saying something might.

I do not write with the same hope. I write because it keeps me sane…er. It is my self-control, creative outlet, mental organizer and the longest lasting romantic relationship I’ve ever had. Only since I began putting my thoughts online were they helpful forms of writing with potential hope and solutions in them but all in all- it’s still just my anger towards a topic that manifests itself on paper (and now the interweb). I do not anticipate it being useful to anyone in either it’s content or it’s mere existence. 90% of the time I write, it’s me acknowledging that I’m still a bit of a mess sometimes and still need help. Medication and therapy help with depression and suicidal thoughts, largely through aiding with the identification of triggers but neither solves it.


The last couple weeks people keep telling me that I look like I’m doing really well. I know I’ve written about having a false face on for people and it was mentioned in the last two posts by other contributors; but what about when you don’t mean to be putting a happy face on? The last couple weeks I’ve felt awful; I’m stressed, losing too much weight, sad and can’t seem to bring about motivation at all. I also (just to be a little more helpful) have no idea why I’m suck in this state lately. Why do people think I am doing well? I don’t get it! Am I supposed to correct them and say “actually I feel like hell ran over me…but thanks anyway,” or just leave it be? I honestly have no answer.


It’s hard to be there for others, not disappoint anyone and still take care of yourself. There are always commitments to be honoured, a breaking point that will be hit but, as I’m told, “it will all be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.” We all trust that saying, otherwise every time life got hard, we would end it all, instead “when going through hell, we keep going.”

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