“It’s so hot because the air pressure is high and dense and there’s gonna be a thunderstorm like, tomorrow, because its been so fucking humid and that’s just what happens. I know this shit, I know what’s happening. This is why the universe is fucking everything up for me - I’m too close to the answer.”—Joe Allen
“1. push yourself to get up before the rest of the world - start with 7am, then 6am, then 5:30am. go to the nearest hill with a big coat and a scarf and watch the sun rise.
2. push yourself to fall asleep earlier - start with 11pm, then 10pm, then 9pm. wake up in the morning feeling re-energized and comfortable.
3. erase processed food from your diet. start with no lollies, chips, biscuits, then erase pasta, rice, cereal, then bread. use the rule that if a child couldn’t identify what was in it, you don’t eat it.
4. get into the habit of cooking yourself a beautiful breakfast. fry tomatoes and mushrooms in real butter and garlic, fry an egg, slice up a fresh avocado and squirt way too much lemon on it. sit and eat it and do nothing else.
5. stretch. start by reaching for the sky as hard as you can, then trying to touch your toes. roll your head. stretch your fingers. stretch everything.
6. buy a 1L water bottle. start with pushing yourself to drink the whole thing in a day, then try drinking it twice.
7. buy a beautiful diary and a beautiful black pen. write down everything you do, including dinner dates, appointments, assignments, coffees, what you need to do that day. no detail is too small.
8. strip your bed of your sheets and empty your underwear draw into the washing machine. put a massive scoop of scented fabric softener in there and wash. make your bed in full.
9. organise your room. fold all your clothes (and bag what you don’t want), clean your mirror, your laptop, vacuum the floor. light a beautiful candle.
10. have a luxurious shower with your favourite music playing. wash your hair, scrub your body, brush your teeth. lather your whole body in moisturiser, get familiar with the part between your toes, your inner thighs, the back of your neck.
11. push yourself to go for a walk. take your headphones, go to the beach and walk. smile at strangers walking the other way and be surprised how many smile back. bring your dog and observe the dog’s behaviour. realise you can learn from your dog.
12. message old friends with personal jokes. reminisce. suggest a catch up soon, even if you don’t follow through. push yourself to follow through.
14. think long and hard about what interests you. crime? sex? boarding school? long-forgotten romance etiquette? find a book about it and read it. there is a book about literally everything.
15. become the person you would ideally fall in love with. let cars merge into your lane when driving. pay double for parking tickets and leave a second one in the machine. stick your tongue out at babies. compliment people on their cute clothes. challenge yourself to not ridicule anyone for a whole day. then two. then a week. walk with a straight posture. look people in the eye. ask people about their story. talk to acquaintances so they become friends.
16. lie in the sunshine. daydream about the life you would lead if failure wasn’t a thing. open your eyes. take small steps to make it happen for you.”—
I’ve always had the attitude that when people are down, they should just pick themselves up and get on with it. “A lot of people have it worse”. “You have everything you want”. Yada yada yada.
Think how much havoc that causes me as someone who suffers from a mental illness.
Since I discovered my problem, I’ve tried to act as normal as possible around others. I’ve tried to hide away and suffer with as little disturbance as possible, because its often been the case that when people find out about it, they are not sure what to do with me.
However, it’s time for me to break the silence. I’m here for my 15 minutes of fame. My name is Abbi and I suffer from major depression and borderline personality disorder. Mental health disorders run in my family, so I could say that I was always a little vulnerable to it.
I developed depression mainly because of my upbringing. I wasn’t parented perfectly (but then again, who is?), therefore I thrived to please others before pleasing myself. It’s only now, at the age of 23, that I’ve realised I’m worthy of being a priority.
I was very angry as a teenager, and was very often called “rude”, “obnoxious”, “selfish” and “ungrateful”. It’s only now, at the age of 23, that I’ve began to grapple with the idea that maybe I’m not any of these things.
Now, at the age of 23, I have to try and cope with these feelings of inadequacy, fueled by my value of “getting on with it.” I have to attempt to refrain from using my childhood as a crutch, and stand and face these crushing feelings with the support of the people around me.
Yes, that includes you too. If more people were aware of the seriousness of a condition like mine, the easier it is to work together to overcome it.
As a very stubborn person with a very can-do attitude, it’s important to recognise that mental health problems affect many different people from many different walks of life and is an illness. It does not define who you are and there is always a way out.
We finally met again and decided to take a walk to the airport. When you first saw me, I couldn’t speak and I almost didn’t recognise you. You looked healthy and alive. I could tell you we’re upset because your lip curled when you spoke. You said you had tried to call but to no avail. You told me something had happened to your heart, and I told you something had happened to my head. We sat in wheelchairs looking out at the runway, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could be myself with you. My happy, playful, true self… and it was because you were there.
I have this really awful habit of finding sentimentality in everything. It makes me sad because everything reminds me of something else; a happier, more prosperous time; even if in actual fact, that wasn’t true at all. It was exactly the same only a little different.
Midst all the shit that somehow grips me most days, there is a part of me there which is the true me. This gives me more hope every day, and one day it’ll break through - not soon, but one day. And that means I can continue living.
"I stayed at his house last night, real nice house and stuff, and he didn’t try and kiss me, hug me, touch me or anything, we just sat there, watched a bit of telly, went to bed, he got up for work the next day and I went to work an hour later. He didn’t try anything. He still has a photo of me by his bed which is sweet, but nothing. It just got so boring. I remember he’d sit there and tell me about managing people and I’d just snoooore. We just did married couple stuff, I mean, what happened to the days when he’d come home from work and rape me in the kitchen? Where did that go? It evaporated within four weeks! I wouldn’t shave or anything for weeks and when he finally got his act together and went down on me, he’d be like "What’s going on here?" "You haven’t fucking touched me in weeks!" I’m going to waste! That’s why I became a dopehead, so I could create some excitement in my head. Fucking men!"
“You’ve made the right choice. Believe me, today is a good day for you. These are tough decisions, I know. But we intellectuals, and I say we because I consider you such, must remain lucid to the bitter end. This life is so full of confusion already, that there’s no need to add chaos to chaos. Losing money is part of a producer’s job. I congratulate you. You had no choice. And he got what he deserved for having joined such a frivolous venture so lightheartedly. Believe me, no need for remorse. Destroying is better than creating when we’re not creating those few, truly necessary things. But then is there anything so clear and right that it deserves to live in this world? For him the wrong movie is only a financial matter. But for you, at this point, it could have been the end. Better to quit and strew the ground with salt, as the ancients did, to purify the battlefields. In the end what we need is some hygiene, some cleanliness, disinfection. We’re smothered by images, words and sounds that have no right to exist, coming from, and bound for, nothingness. Of any artist truly worth the name we should ask nothing except this act of faith: to learn silence. Do you remember Mallarme’s homage to the white page? And Rimbaud… a poet, my friend, not a movie director. What was his finest poetry?His refusal to continue writing and his departure for Africa. If we can’t have everything, true perfection is nothingness. Forgive men for quoting all the time. But we critics… do what we can. Our true mission is… sweeping away the thousands of miscarriages that everyday… obscenely… try to come to the light. And you would actually dare leave behind you a whole film, like a cripple who leaves behind his crooked footprint. Such a monstrous presumption to think that others could benefit from the squalid catalogue of your mistakes! And how do you benefit from stringing together the tattered pieces of your life? Your vague memories, the faces of people that you were never able to love…”—Writer, 8 1/2, Fellini (via shelbydoan)