About a week ago, my father committed suicide. He had been struggling with Depression and Post Traumatic Stress for longer than I’ve been alive, and he’d attempted it before, a few times. Still, it was a shock, a sudden, unexpected nightmare. And I’m still hoping that any day now, I’ll wake up.
As a woman who has struggled with body image issues for years, January tends to be a difficult time. It feels like every advert you see is for some weight loss diet or new "get fit quick" app, and it’s harder than ever to look at your body and feel acceptance.
Seeing depression depicted in movies and TV shows isn’t necessarily rare, but frequently it’s depicted in such a way as to seem "quirky" or even "romantic." Often it’s "cured" by the romantic plot and everyone lives happily ever after.
My first break-up: an explanation.
It’s already been established that the issue of blood purity in Harry Potter is an allegory for racism, but I think JK Rowling’s portrayal of Squibs is the most telling of all.