I am somehow able to detail my depressive episodes and panic attacks in semi-comedic writing for anyone and everyone to see without any semblance of hesitation. However, put me face to face with my best friend of ten years and, suddenly, I’m shy.
so that's how my life's going
I finished getting diagnosed with alopecia areata, depression and severe anxiety disorder, and a mystery disease, hopped in my car with tears in my eyes, and tossed my fanny pack and bucket hat back on — I had a game of socially distanced freeze dance to lead.
From a beer robbery, to a car crash, to a trip around town for a rental car, to arguments with different people in the U of O community — that’s how my life’s going.
Today as I was walking down the street, a man walked past me and just burped. This is my home for the summer.
In April of 2017, I was in a pretty bad place. It was Brantford, Ontario, where old white people go to retire. My parents had moved there earlier that year, and I was home for a weekend in between final exams. That’s where I tried to take my life.
As a sidenote, I went to my neighbours’ house to see if they still had the package but despite the lights being on, no one answered the door, because everyone is the worst.
10/10 would not recommend.
For those of you who skipped the arts section this week, floatation therapy is essentially the act of floating in a tank of 1,200 pounds of epsom salt and 1,000 litres of water that is heated to your exact body temperature.
Not only did I give up on my quest for true love, but this one seemingly insignificant interaction coloured my perspective of the whole city.
