Tag Archives: depression

I’m Getting Published!

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So, I received an email from a literary magazine the other day, and it seems that the Dark Horse is finally about to get published! (Confetti falls from the ceiling and there’s much fanfare throughout the entire human population… Or… well, really, I called my mom and she was proud of me. But it feels like fanfare I say!)

 

Anyhoo, that’s all beside the point. The point which is this: I have been working my ass off, and it’s finally started paying off!

If I were to flashback to 2 years ago, when I first started my masters program in writing and literature, with nothing on my resume besides retail. Or to 5 years ago, when I was stuck in my Melbourne apartment, agoraphobic, and miserable. Or if I flash-backed to 6 years ago, when I arrived back to Ohio after undergrad, feeling like a complete failure because I didn’t make anything of myself in LA. I never would have thought that any of this would ever be possible.

 

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I’ve spent most of my twenties feeling like a failure. Feeling like life wasn’t wroth living. Feeling like I would never ever make anything of myself. The spark of hope was the faintest flicker, off in the distance of some cold dark foggy night.

Writing is what got me through it all. I’ve journaled since I was 7. And I started this blog in 2013, back when my mental health was so poor that I couldn’t even leave my bedroom without feeling weak. Writing. Venting. Creating. It was what kept me going.

 

 

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When I was a kid growing up in Ohio, I knew I wanted to tell stories. I was the lone gay kid lost in a sea of uneducated, hateful trash. Movies and books were the only things that ever gave me inspiration and showed me that life could be worth living. I always knew I wanted to give that to other people.

It wasn’t until recently that I figured out it would be my story I’d be telling. The stories of growing up in Ohio. Of being a lonely sex addict in Los Angeles. Of suffering from depression and anxiety. Of collapsing all over Australia. But most importantly, of never giving up. 

I’m so excited to see the the future has in store.  Did you hear that? I’m excited for my future. That is a very recent feeling in my life. I’m looking forward to what’s next. I’m excited to see how the publication process works. I’m excited to see what people think of my writing. I’m excited to write more! And above all, I’m excited to have an adventure. Because isn’t that what life should be about?

 

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Rock on bitches, rock on!

 

~ The Dark Horse

 

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Pictures That Give Me Energy

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Have any of you ever heard of the photographer David LaChapelle? I love his photography because it always makes me so happy. His photos are so full of color and movement and shine and light. I love it. It’s the perfect cure for when I’m feeling down.

 

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I feel like these days everyone is really into that gritty-miserable shit. Everyone is like, “Oooohhh I just love it when characters are complex and nobody in a story is really the good guy. Everyone’s just bad in different ways.”  Or they want shows about drugs, like Narcos and Breaking Bad. Or movies about post-apocalyptic bullshit.

Everyone loves misery these days?  WHY IS THAT? 

The world is miserable enough! Why do people want more misery?

I want to be inspired. I want to feel like I can take on the world. I want a world where the sun is shining and I have a reason to get out of bed! And I feel like LaChapelle’s photos always have that.

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So, my tip for everyone today is: If you’re feeling down, just go do a Google Images search on David LaChapelle. You will be blown away with beauty and color.

 

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Because let’s all be real here. We need more light in our lives. We need more color. We need more fun. We need more beauty.

 

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Keep looking for the light in the world,

~ The Dark Horse

New York, I Have Arrived!

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Somehow. Someway….

It happened.

I’ve finally arrived.

I’m in the land of Joan Didion, Robert De Nero, and Anna Wintour.

And It’s so insanely exciting and cool and terrifying and thrilling and wonderful and stressful.

I mean, people, listen to me, I am currently writing in a cafe in Manhattan, surrounded by brownstones with iron fire escapes, and the sounds of honking and all the rest of those very New Yorkish things.

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And obviously that sensory overload is good and bad. Sensory overload can lead to anxiety. And I’ll be honest, I’m getting a tad of it.

It seems like too much has gone right. I mean, who lands a good job in New York, finds an amazing apartment at a great price in a wonderful neighborhood, has good roommates, and…. is actually happy?

Does anyone else out there feel like happiness is one of those things that other people get, but the we don’t?

It’s like I’m waiting for the floor to drop at any moment.

Like, maybe this job will fall through. Or the owner of the apartment will sell, and I’ll have to move….or worse, what if I can’t find a place afterwards? And then I have to leave because the stress has caused me to have a mental breakdown and lose my job? It seems like I’m so used to pain and misery that I no longer have the ability to even believe that a good life exists.

It seems that whenever something good starts to happen, a hurricane alarm goes off deep within me. Some old sailor starts screaming, “Batten down the hatches!” I start to brace for the bad to begin again.

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AND YOU KNOW WHAT?

THAT FUCKING SUCKS AND IS UNFAIR.

 

And you know what else? I’m really fucking over it. Done. (Or for all you eighteen-year-olds out there, I’m #done).

 

It isn’t fair that I have to live a life convinced that I don’t deserve good things. Or think that I’ll never be happy.

Fuck that. 

And Fuck all the people out there who have conditioned me to be this way. 

Fuck all the kids from my grade school who called me faggot.

Fuck all the kids in high school who spat on me, and who told me they’d beat me up if they ever saw me in the bathroom.

Fuck the teachers who stood and did nothing.

But double fuck the teachers who made comments themselves. I’m looking at you freshman year health teacher who told me I’ll die of AIDS simply for being gay.

And also to my old German teacher who was openly homophobic. 

Not to mention EVERY SINGLE religion teacher I ever had, who told me I would go to hell. 

Fuck my old boss at Aeropostale who made fun of me for having depression and anxiety. Im sorry that you’re a grown 37-year-old woman who’s life has amounted to working in a bumfuck mall in a cornfield in Ohio selling cheap clothing to little girls that fall apart after a month. 

Fuck everyone in Ohio who discouraged me from dreaming big. Who told me the world would eat me alive. Who told me I’d never be good enough. Who told me I was stupid. Who told me I was ugly. 

FUCK ALL OF YOU. 

CUZ GUESS WHAT MOTHERFUCKERS, 

I live in Manhattan now. And I just got a job in television. And I’m finishing up my Master’s where I’m putting together a book full of my essays. 

So, here’s my cock. suck it.

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Werk.

 

I’m ready to embrace a life of meaning. A life where maybe I can even help change other people’s lives. A life where I’m happy and fulfilled. And I’m done even remembering what a bunch of boondock Ohioans tried telling me about life.

~ The Dark Horse

 

 

The Post-Christmas Blues

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So, this time of year is always the same.

After the rush. After the hustle and bustle. After all the lights, the music, the food, comes the quiet.

The silence.

The after-Christmas nothingness.  And I fucking hate it.

 

Everyone has gone back to their own lives, taking their presents and their presence with them.

And life seems to slow to a halt. The magic is all used up. And somehow, everyone seems to be so ok with it.

Everyone besides me seems to love when Christmas is over. “I’m exhausted” they say. “I’m broke” they complain. “The holidays are always so stressful” they shout.

But me, I feel differently.  I love the holidays.  The love the busyness.  I love everything about the rush. And I can’t help but feel a little down every December 26th. It actually shocks me how quickly the world can move on from it.

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At least for my family, we have one day a year when everyone gets together. We have one day a year when we eat a meal together. We have one day a year when we can surprise each other with gifts…

But somehow, even this one single day seems to be too much time for my family.

Christmas seems to be an inconvenience more than a holiday.

We hit a new record this year: My aunt arrived at about 6pm Christmas Eve. Stayed till around midnight. Then came back Christmas morning for one hour to say goodbye, and grab her presents.  That’s a total of 7 hours. How many hours are in a year?

8760.

And she could only spare 7?

7 is 0.079908675799087% of 8760

That’s how much time I got to spend with my aunt this year…

 

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If I ever find love in my life, the person needs to come from a huge family. I want to experience a real Christmas sometime. Where spare rooms rooms are filled with family members. Where Christmas dinner is a feast. Where opening presents is a cherished and ornate spectacle.  I hate this rushed and sloppy Christmas that my family has.

I hate that my family treats the holidays like a burden.

And shortly after my aunt left, my brother and his girlfriend left. And the day after Christmas, my mom and dad were back to work. And I’m left wondering why I invested all this time and energy to fly home from Boston just to be surrounded for one day by people who could care less, and now… surrounded by nothingness.

I assure you, I think Boston is lame, and I’m so excited to start my new job in New York after the new year. But there is way more to do in Boston than Ohio. I’d much rather be spending my time off from school and work in a city like Boston where I could be doing things… I came home for family, and it seems like none of them care.

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But, even though this sucks, I’m going to try and keep my spirits high.

I have a new job that I’m really excited about in a new city… and not just any city, but New York City. I have so much to look forward to in 2019. 

I’m going to be finishing up my thesis, working towards to completing a book that I hope to get published. I’m going to start working for an awesome media company. I have so much going on in my future.  And I won’t let this post-holiday sadness derail me from my excitement.

So,

Yes, the holidays sucked this year .

 

But, ya know what, fuck 2018.  2019, here I come! 

2019

 

~ The Dark Horse

The Secret Cure To Depression is… Laundry?

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So, I know this sounds crazy, but there’s always a secret trick I preform when I’m feeling really down. And it pretty much always works.

I’m home right now, and last night when I was watching A Christmas Story, a commercial came on for Tide or Whirlpool or something, and it reminded me about my little depression trick. And then I realized that, somehow, I’ve still never made a post about it!

 

So, here’s the trick:

 

When you’re feeling super depressed, and can’t even seem to muster the energy to move…

…put in a load of laundry! 

 

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Yep. For Real.

 

 

Let me explain:  So, when I’m super fucking depressed, I always tell myself that I have enough energy to at least walk down to the laundry machine and throw in a load. My idea is, if laundry is running, then I’m not simply laying in bed, wasting my life away. I’m just waiting for my laundry to come out… obviously.

I’m not doing nothing. I’m doing something.

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And then this funny thing happens… Once I stop feeling like I’m doing nothing, and feel like I’m doing something, my mood improves. Even if it’s ever-so-slightly, the idea that my day wasn’t completely wasted makes me feel better about myself.

And then as we know about positive feedback loops, that little improvement can lead to another. Suddenly, I’m like, perhaps after they wash, I’ll put them in the dryer too. And you know, I am a little hungry, maybe I’ll make myself something to eat.

And before you know it, me laying face-down in bed has turned into me folding laundry with the soundtrack to Hamilton blasting in the background.

All because of laundry.

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So, the next time you’re feeling like you can’t possibly do a damn thing, remember that putting in a load of laundry takes about 5 minutes. And then you can go straight back to your bed for a whole hour until it’s time to transfer the load to the dryer. But, you get to walk back to your bed feeling like a champion. Cuz you did something. You’ve gone from being a depressive lump to being a productive citizen of this world.

 

All hail the power of laundry! 

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And hey, even if your mood doesn’t improve that much, at least you now have clean clothes right?  Its motivation AND it’s utilitarian!  Glory!

 

~ The Dark Horse

ps- Anyone else out there got good depression tips you’d like to share?

 

 

IT’S BEEN 5 YEARS!

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WordPress alerted me today that 5 years ago was my first post. December 13, 2013.

And wow… what a difference. When I wrote my first post It Starts I was trapped in my Melbournian apartment. It was a bright, sunny, summer day…which was so weird considering I’m from America, and normally December 13th is cold and might even have snow! Normally on December 13th, I’m giddy and anxious for Christmas (like I am this very second). But back in that year, it was all so wrong.

I was completely alone in a new country. My depression was bursting at the seems. My anxiety had lead to agoraphobia. I was getting sick all the time because of how miserable I was.

I remember one of my last days out of the apartment before the agoraphobia made it completely impossible to leave, was spent at the department store Myer.

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Their Melbourne store is absolutely beautiful, and I went to walk around and get some fresh air. I was hoping to feel some of that Christmas magic I love so much in retail. Throughout December I love walking around stores. Not to buy anything, but just to be there. I love the Christmas music, the hustle and bustle, all the decorations for Christmas…and really, who decorates for Christmas more than retail?

But even that was skewed. It was probably 85F outside (30C) and the Myer department store was blasting the air conditioning. Everyone walked around in shorts. There were a few images of Christmas throughout the store. But the sun and the heat made me feel ashamed to be inside, wasting such a beautiful day.

But really, let’s be honest, most days that holiday season were wasted. Lost to the rumblings of metal illness.

 

But, let’s flash forward a few years……

 

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OG GOD! TOO FAR FORWARD!!!! GO BACK GO BACK!!!!!

 

 

 

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Alright, New York still exists?  Ok good!

Let’s just stay right for a moment.

It’s December 13, 2018. 

And this Christmas I’m going to be very thankful for 2 things. First, that I’m still alive. There are so many people out there who deal with mental health problems. And a lot of them don’t know how to get help, or feel there is no help. I’m so fortunate that even during the darkest of times, I always seemed to see a small flicker of light in the darkness. The dimmest candle in the far distance seemed to keep me going. And for that, I’m so thankful.

 

For anyone out there who feels alone or hopeless, this is a list of lifeline numbers for around the world. Please call them and never feel embarrassed or ashamed for doing so. You don’t need to be suicidal to ask for help. If you feel that living is misery, no matter what your reasons are, you have a right to talk to someone.

NEVER EVER THINK THAT YOU DON’T DESERVE SUPPORT. YOU DO.

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And secondly, I’m thankful that I’m not only alive, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I’m thriving. I remember reading in chat rooms and blogs when I first started having the attacks when I left my apartment. I would sit in my room afraid to walk outside, reading stories about agoraphobia. What I kept hearing over and over again was this:

“You’ll never be better again. It will always stay with you. You might get “better”…

but you’ll never ever be “fine”. 

Well, bitches, listen up. That shit aint true. 

One of my idols is Jenifer Lewis, cuz she knows how to inspire in the face of adversity.

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And she’s damn right. If the elevator is broken, take the stairs. Sure, the fight is long and hard, but don’t ever give up. And don’t ever let anyone tell you that you don’t have a full life ahead of you, even if those are people who claim to know more than you.

I feel bad for the people on those chat rooms who are convinced that life won’t get better. I feel bad that they don’t believe in themselves. I feel bad that this is happening to them.

But one thing that really pisses me off, is when people try and tell other people that SHIT CAN’T HAPPEN. CUZ MOTHERFUCKERS, IT CAN.

I remember how scared I was after reading those stories. After hearing countless people who suffered in the same way that I was, tell me that this will never get better. I never want anyone to feel that way.  And nobody should ever have to.

 

So, this holiday season, remember to help others, but also help yourself. Grab a tea, go for a walk, paint a picture, open a nonprofit, star in a movie, become president, change the world.

Ready for some inspiration? Ok, here it comes…..

 

 

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Naaaaaaaants ingonyaaaaama bagithi Babaaaa!!!!

choir comes in: Sithi uhm ingonyama!!!!!

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5 years goin, and still aint proofreading!

~The Dark Horse