“Do not operate heavy machinery” – That includes pants, microwaves, and washing machines.

The world is a lonesome cup of coffee… At least thats what Abbey Lincoln thought. My thoughts on the world right now are fuzzy and dull. Similar to looking through an old shower curtain when your showering, trying to remember what you were doing there in the first place. 

Ah, drugs. You make my life hell. 

Last Friday I was chosen by the evil gods of pain to get my wisdom teeth ripped out from their plush rose coloured cradles a.k.a my gums because well frankly, since one is causing pain, why not tear all of them out and have a bloody party. 

I was put out for the blood fest fortunately, but unfortunately I have to be awake for the recovery part.

I was lucky though to have my mother fly down from up north and fuss over me while I was still drooling and swollen up like a chipmunk. Everyone needs some motherly love. It’s the best form of healing I think.

But that ended Sunday when she flew back to the wilds of my homeland. And I was left in the rain puddles trying to remember what colour pill to take next and how many hours to wait in between tylenol doses.

I am a great example of a young adult who when is sick- becomes very much like a baby worm and loses all brain function. 

I thought I had it in the bag- I really did. 

But then Monday morning I woke up, missed my alarm, and had 15 minutes to get ready for work. 

I should have called in sick when I found myself getting confused on how to put on my pants. 

The label on the pain killers said “do not operate heavy machinery” – 

Having to coach myself to put one leg in one pant leg, step into other pant leg, then shimmy up to waist, felt like operating heavy machinery. I was in a pathetic state.

I left work early Monday.

And Today as well.

“Grinning and bearing it” technique of healing is not working.

So I am resorting to “hiding from the world and licking my wounds” technique for tomorrow.

Between the pain resonating from the four empty sockets in the back of my mouth, the side effects of the drugs, and having IBS (which makes taking hard drugs super tricky- due to weak stomach and intestines) I feel like a big ball of goo unable to process anything.

I was expecting the pain from the wisdom teeth, but having my stomach and intestines throw up their arms in protest to anything with codine in it…

Not helpful.

It is really a shame that you can’t set up a meeting with your stomach, preparing it for what is to come, for example: “Hey stomach, I am going to have t3s to help my mouth heal, life isn’t about you so don’t be so fussy”, sort of like preparing cats for when you will have a baby, you know, making sure the cat doesn’t decide to suffocate the baby, being comfortable with you not paying attention to it, and yes, teaching the cat that the play pen that cost a couple hundred dollars from IKEA is not a litter box. My stomach can be compared to a tom cat- who doesn’t give a rats ass whether I’m on a date, in class, or at work etc. to let me know how its feeling. 

I don’t mind cats…

as long as I don’t have to own one. 

My tom cat of a stomach also can speak english it seems, because what can be more annoying than a cat who can win a swearing match. 

. Right now I picture my stomach with a thick east coast accent, yowling in protest, because for a few years now my digestive system has been pushing itself to the front- always getting the attention. I can picture it planning an “occupy wallstreet” movement with my small and large intestine, clearly not paying attention that all energy needs to be focused on the four pulsating pink sore mushy masses in the back of my mouth covered in stitches.

Again; another similarity to cats and my stomach:

They have this wild idea that my job is to serve them.

My digestive system and I have a love hate relationship.

Right now I hate it.

Maybe my intestines would have different accents.


But still rowdy cats. 

The stomach definitely has some anger issues.

I don’t need the therapy- my cat.. err… stomach does.









People can and do recover from Depression, and so can you (:

It’s no secret, and I’d rather not hide behind a mask.

So any family members reading this, don’t be shocked this is me just being me.

Maybe if I take the mask off it might help someone who is unable to face tomorrow.

Ever been depressed?

Its kind of like having your heart broken but a little bit more tragic, really no words can describe the pain you feel, personally I’d rather have my heart broken by some boy then feel like you’re disappearing into the shadows of your own life.

You lose control in a way, like you are trapped inside your body. Your thoughts are not your own it seems, they are scary, violent, twisted in ways.

People sometimes commit suicide because they don’t think they will ever escape that feeling. At one point I thought I wouldn’t escape either.

Interesting that they call it “committing suicide”. My thoughts on this, (or at least in my experience) it is not a commitment, it is a surrender. You are surrendering to the pain you carry within you.

You do not want to die, you just don’t want to live like that anymore.

Trust me, I know what that feels like.

I chose to write about this tonight is to make my voice heard, I am not trying to get attention but simply the opposite. I want to GIVE attention to a matter that people do not want to talk about. Hello, this is not the 1950’s. I am just a teenager, so why pay attention to me, well you are already reading so really, how long will this take out of you time? 10 minutes maybe? All I am asking you for is to listen to what I have to say and maybe it will change your thoughts about depression.

First of all, whether you know it or not, you probably know somebody who is affected by this mental illness. Some people choose to talk about it, while some keep it hidden. I used to keep it under wraps, but that did more harm then good in my situation.

Second of all, Depressed people ARE NOT SICKNESS-RIDDEN ZOMBIES so don’t treat them like one, because  really thats just cruel to do that to somebody.

Third of all, Depressed people are not just selfish childish human beings, telling them to “be a big girl now” does not help. Do you think I’d be crying if I could help  it? No. Have some compassion and empathy for these people.

Educate yourself whether you are a coach, teacher, friend, mother, father, goldfish. I don’t care how old you are or who you are. I am not speaking for all the depressed people in the world but there are triggers, there are days when its a struggle, and there are days when you feel like you’re doing okay. Its different for everyone, so that is why I think Depression should be treated like a sprained ankle, broken arm, or even a concussion. It is not something to be afraid of. Just because it may be a bit more tricky to deal with does not mean it should be kept a secret. Coaches know how to wrap a sprained foot, so why shouldn’t they know at least a few tips on how to coach a player with a mental illness. Even just saying “I am here for you” really is such a beautiful sentence to somebody who feels so lost. Picture this, you give a kid an ice pack for when she has twisted an ankle, think of giving empathy to a kid when she looks like she is struggling.

I used to hide from my friends and family but in the end I was so desperate for someone to talk to. This is me healing. For I would never had told a soul other than my close family about my Depression a few months ago…

I used to think my depression was my weakness, it was something to hide from friends, boyfriends, family, teams,etc. It was something to hate and to despise that I had it. But that took up so much of my energy there was no energy to live life the way i wanted to: True to myself. I felt like i was living a lie, unable to admit that I have a mental illness,  that has become a  great challenge for me. I am not saying I am completely healed, for I have a long journey ahead of me, but I will say that I have made progress.

For now I look upon my Depression as a strength.

A challenge that was not easy,

harder then any video game

no gold coins gained, just a lot of tears lost. But I am still alive, I have seen the darkest moments but I held on to the wisp of colour and life that was left inside of me, and like a seed, when you nurture it. It can grow into something beautiful.

Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. I truly believe that. And for all of you that are dealing with Depression. Hold on. Life has so much to offer, and don’t be afraid to ask for help, there are people that are there specifically for that. Mothers, Fathers, and if you can’t talk to them, go to friends, counsellors, a teacher, anybody. Because there are people out there that truly care about you so don’t feel like you are giving someone a burden.

take a few minutes out of your day and educate yourself.




People can and do recover from Depression, and so can you (: