Parties: An opportunity to stand around in uncomfortable shoes among strangers, wondering what you’re going to talk about and drinking too much to get over the awkwardness.
10 Things I Hate About Me
Ever feel like you're just the oddball in the universe? And that no one could ever understand you because you're just too weird? Yeah, that's me.
Heights of embarrassment
Between the ages of 16 and 17, I grew by about six inches until I was the tallest student in my high school, not just the tallest girl, the tallest STUDENT period.
What I learned from divorcing my parents
Here is an early memory of me being a kindergartener. My mom and I were sorting recent photos and adding them to the photo album (Photo album — Wikipedia). As she flipped through the pictures, she picked out a photo of me happily posing like a bunny in front of a fancy hotel.
When Your Tribe Is - Not Belonging
I belong to nowhere. This realization came to me when I was living in London, United Kingdom. I had managed to save up enough holidays to make a month-long trip back to India. I excitedly told my colleague - 'I am going home.' He looked surprised and said, 'Well, you do that every day.' And that's when I realized that home to me had many meanings, unlike other people. And a little bit of introspection, and I realized I had a PhD in not fitting in.
Kant Lie to Me
I have recently made an unfortunate discovery. The man I love is a liar. This could be a devastating realization if it weren’t for the fact that his lies are pointless. He lies about what he ate, drank, and even how much sleep he got on any given day. The motivation is, of course, to keep me from worrying about his health, thereby saving himself from my nagging or, as I like to call it; Persistent care. I know what you’re thinking. If he lies about the small things, what else could he be hiding? More importantly, why do I accept this behavior? My journey to sophrosyne forced me to meditate on this subject instead of jumping to conclusions. A little research and empathy should go a long way.
How (Not) to Use a Drive-Through
Oh, drive-throughs: special lanes outside establishments designated for serving customers in the comfort of their vehicles. Admittedly one of man's greatest inventions—but the epitome of panic for us socially-clumsy, introverted individuals.
There is an Intimacy in Reading Your Fellow Creator’s Work
I’ve been telling a lot of strangers on the internet that I love them lately. It’s becoming a problem. I’ll mean to say, “I love your article,” but my heart gets moving faster than my brain and fingers, and instead, I will type, “I love you so much!”
All The Selves I Would Share
*Author’s Note* The grammatical errors in this piece of writing are intentional, it reflects the speed at which thoughts whip through my mind especially when my thyroid levels are too high and I’m in a state of being hyperthyroid. It flows better if read out loud.
Confessions of an Editor
The blank screen haunts me anymore. I think about dying more than I think about living. I'm not sure which scares me more.
My Mom Was A Makeshift Firefighter
As I’m sitting here reminiscing about these days in June. I think about some of the memories that I have in the month of June, and one of those memories is one that I haven’t thought about extensively for a long time. When a very serious event happened in the summer of 2013.
The Fools Journey
Hello. My name is Cortney, and I have a problem. I cannot pretend to respect adults who bully, degrade, exploit, put down, discriminate against, stereotype, manipulate, harass, assault, threaten, harm, or emotionally terrorize others no matter what reasons they have, or what logic they have adopted to convince themselves any of the above actions are acceptable behavior for an adult to practice. There, I said it. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I like problems, I’m a natural problem solver, I love to mediate between two opposing parties, I live for debate and conflict. I’m a recovering drama addict, and regular disruptor.
Finally. A pair of eyes has landed upon these sacred words that translate a beautiful masterpiece from my mind to your screen. Finally. A pair of eyes with a perception different from me, yet connected to me through the energy that makes up all things. Finally. An opportunity to be seen for the blueprint I have received from Source, the Great Creator, who speaks to me as I channel wisdom to humanity.
Purpose and Meaning
My passion has always been in following creative arts. I have spent a good portion of my life chasing the next creative outlet. I have a tendency to get very excited about a craft in the moment and put everything I have into creating only to 12 quilt tops, 3 half completed scrapbooks or the parts for a dream catcher that sit in the drawer for a year. I never really understood the need to scour the internet putting all of these items on a Pinterest board or looking at items at the craft store and buying them because they had potential to be something in the end. It wasn’t until I started working on behavioural therapy that I really began to understand some things about myself.
I can remember being eight years old, sitting in my one-piece school desk with lukewarm tears running down my cheeks. In an empty upstairs bedroom with no door. Fighting through the pain and tears, I can remember mumbling the question: "Why don't my parents have enough money?" They worked so hard and had nothing to show for it. "If only we had money." I was convinced that only money would end the abuse and alcoholism. For years my passion was to become wealthy. I could not find a reason aside from financial stress that my parents would hurt me so bad and for so long. I was twenty-three when my mother came knocking on my door on a mid-afternoon weekday. A confused expression stared back at her when I answered the door. "Do you love me?" She asked. Without hesitation, "Of course I love you." I replied. "I won a million dollars," she said. I could only describe the feeling as if the shackles that confined me my entire life had finally broken. I was now free. I was convinced we had just won happiness. It's not uncommon to hear that money does not buy happiness, but it's not far-fetched to idolize the idea that being financially sound would bring some happiness, right? In my case, this couldn't have been more wrong. I never realized just how broken I truly was until I eliminate all the excuses. Being financially stressed was equivalent to having a rug; all I could see was the rug, but I found all sorts of debris I never knew existed when I lifted the rug. The doctors referred to this debris as PTSD, Anxiety, Panic Disorder, and Depression. Now, a full-grown adult, I sit on my couch, in a messy house, with hair I haven't washed for over a week and clothes I have been in for days with lukewarm tears running down my cheeks. I mumble the question: "Why did no one help me? How did this go so unnoticed for so long?" "What can I do to change this, so no one has to feel the way I've felt?" I know from the years of therapy I've done that I only control myself and my actions. Every day, I make it my goal to share my experiences, feelings, and thoughts with those around me. I choose to treat people the way I want to be treated, with no expectation of seeing it in return. I share myself with others using different mediums such as social media, art and music, and writing. Throughout my journey, I've come to realize that our social system lacks the infrastructure of "preventative mental health." My passion now is to raise awareness and start building infrastructure for preventative mental health. I can only imagine what life would have been if there were more accessible places for me to go as a youth. I was unaware that addiction and mental health were why my parents were financially stressed and the reason I was a victim of abuse. Money was an excuse. Every day I have the intention to become this best version of myself. I know that by taking care of myself and overcoming my challenges, I can influence others that it is possible. One day I would like to open an arts center. A place where youth can go to communicate their inner thoughts through different art forms. A place where no external excuses can hold back youth from attending, such as financial stress. A social infrastructure that can identify and support youth who are susceptible to facing mental health adversities. From concerts, theatre, art exhibits, and all the endless possibilities in-between, we can support this idea financially without having to burden our youth with excuses and reasons for why they can't. I am confident that passing the passion for mental wellness and self-love, and care will bring the tool of wealth needed to support it.
She Never Loved You
“I never loved you the way you love me,” she finally admitted. “I was in love with being in love with you, but never actually did,” she continued, the truth finally flowing.
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