Please also read: re: A Mental Prison To the reader: I wrote the majority of this essay before I left the university after my Spring 2018 semester. I was asked my opinion on how the school could better address the existing and largely ignored stresses of being a student at Truman State University. However, as… Continue reading A Mental Prison
Earlier this year, on August 19th, I sat on a barstool in my apartment with a towel wrapped around my waist and another draped over my shoulders. Water from my hair dripping down my face and hands trembling, I slowly uncapped the handle of rum and bottle of sleeping pills that I had set down in front of me. As I cried silently into my worn t-shirt, I felt the overwhelming weight of the world crashing down on me once again: the disappointment, the fear and helplessness, the feelings of worthlessness, the feeling of losing everything, all of it an insurmountable tsunami that had inevitably hit me again and again before.
After seeing a seemingly endless number of therapists and doctors, I was convinced that I needed medications to feel good -- to feel like a normal person again. Merely talking to someone about how I felt and my problems just didn't seem to be getting results, which led me to think, “people smoked to get… Continue reading The Happy Pills