The relationship between our external and internal environment is very powerful, but there is a disconnection between the two in the medical field.
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I remember the first time I told my parents I wanted to go to therapy. My immigrant, Indian parents. I remember the confusion, the questions, the hesitation, and (eventually) the approval.
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Never has someone revolutionized my perspective so completely. She accepted all of who I was, so much so that I started to accept myself as well.
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We discover that we’re not alone in what we’re feeling and understand ourselves in a new light.
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I don’t know what to do with this frustrating phenomenon that occurs within my head every year, I don’t know how to fix it, I just know it happens.
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This piece is a collaboration between Alexa Di Luca and Amelia Cacchione, telling two stories of junior year — It’s Okay to Not be Okay and It’s Okay to be Okay.
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What we do right after getting up in the morning shapes how we think, feel and act the rest of the day. It is well worth thinking about how to spend those first few hours of the day.
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Finding and acknowledging what we truly want out of life can be painfully difficult and requires brutal honesty. What you want, what your parents want, what society wants-those can be completely different paths, but ultimately what matters most is if you are happy with yourself.
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Can I be both feminine and masculine? Can I see both sides? Flower Boy helped answer that for me. Yes. If Tyler can follow “See You Again” with “Who Dat Boy” than I can paint my nails on Tuesday and play pickup football on Wednesday.
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Dear New Friends,
First, let me say that you are so much more than I could’ve expected from my first year of college. As a shy kid, I expected college to be a constant challenge to make connections, and you made everything so much easier.
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Two weeks ago I started a week long endeavor for Mentality. My goal was to draw for 20 minutes every day and see if in any way it affected how I felt on a day to day basis. I felt as though I’d gone back in time to my ten year old self looking at a piece of 8x11 paper wondering how to make something out of nothing, except this time it felt different.
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I tried not to let my worries show, but some aspects of college terrified me. I had never lived with anyone besides my family and I wasn’t great at conflict resolution, so I didn’t know what having a roommate would be like. I came from a small school that didn’t have a real party scene so I had no clue what my social life would be like.
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Our whole lives, we have a path carved out for us. Senior year hits and suddenly we need to have everything figured out for the next step of our lives. Students apply to schools with the stress of possibly not getting in, and now, not getting into the most challenging program.
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There’s so much in this world that I’m waiting to see. I want to get my own apartment, one with big windows and a small dog. I want to live with someone that I love, not someone I start out loving because I’m supposed to, but someone whom I fall in love with, someone who was a stranger until they weren’t anymore. I want to someday change the world, as impossible as it is.
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“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” The ball dropped and we kissed and smiled and danced around like idiots while surrounded by two million other people. Then, about five minutes into the new year I felt a sudden surge of anxiety creep up on me. What the hell has actually changed?
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As people are counting down the days until break with excitement, I find myself counting down the days with hesitation. It’s not that I don’t want to go home- or maybe I actually don’t, I’m not really sure- but the stress of the holidays is what colors my image of the two weeks I’ll be spending with my family.
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I can’t remember my mother without schizophrenia. I still remember the first day that she was hospitalized. It was a few days before my ninth birthday when she suddenly began spewing incoherent nonsense.
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“Hello, this is the Univeristy of Akron counseling center, how can we help you today?” I choked out my rehearsed response: I had visited their website and screened myself as positive for clinical depression and anxiety and I needed help.
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Trigger Warning: self-harm, abuse
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