We’re trying to remain calm.  We really are.  But WTF, economy?!  Stop getting all Depressed on us…

When my boyfriend and I split, I went through usual grief: denial, depression, rage. Well, mainly rage. I had all this excess energy bottled up, so I considered my options. I could buy a pint of ice cream and watch every depressing episode of Sex and the City and cry my eyes out, I could go downtown and blow most of my bank account on fabulous shoes, or, I could do something productive like writing my humongous paper. I wound up taking a walk downtown and found a farmers’ market with a huge selection of fall fruit.

I ended up buying 5 pounds of apples.

When I got home, I decided it was time to put all my energy to good use and bake a pie. I turned up loud, energetic music and started up the oven. As a semi-professional cook, making delicious things was always a kind of therapy, and was a way to channel my emotions. I asked one of my male friends if baking a pie was an appropriate response to a breakup, and I was told, “Only if you’re planning on throwing it at his face while it’s still steaming hot.” Aah, right to the point.

So now I present the:

I’m-Too-Good-For-Him-Anyway Apple Pie: Read More »

Recently, a friend told me that I’m one of the only people in his life with a positive attitude. At first, I was surprised. I mean, really; why is everyone so angry? But, to be fair, just 2 years ago, I was angry too. In fact, I was one of the angriest people I knew…even on the verge of suicide at one particular time.

I have completely remodeled my life and my perspective since that dark point and my friend was probably onto something when asking me about my life, because I truly am really happy these days. And this happiness isn’t just something that came over night; it is something I grew to know. Some basic principles I learned to incorporate into my thinking and perspective have made all of the difference. Read More »

In high school, I was more or less obsessed with Bright Eyes. I absolutely adored Conor Oberst and all his whiney, scratchy-voiced angsty music, not to mention his sexy eyes & all-around hot emo boy demeanor.

I was also extremely depressed, dropped out of high school (only for a semester!) and spent three hours a week in intensive outpatient therapy.

However, times have changed and I traded in my razor blades for wine glasses and my sorry, pathetic teenage attitude for a much healthier, positive one. I became happy. Baggage-less, I thought. Completely devoid of any negativity from my past.

And then, as all love stories begin, I met someone who I had absolutely everything in common with and with whom I got along flawlessly for the first six months. I thought I was over my years of self-loathing and teenage drama, and if I could hold a healthy, (somewhat) adult relationship, then I was convinced.

Seriously, this relationship was awesome. We were like male and female versions of each other: We were in the same major (yes, boy magazine journalism major!), loved cheap beer and foosball and basically couldn’t keep our hands off of each other….any time, anywhere.

But, eventually my insecurities came to the surface and the relationship became a huge emotional mess, for both of us. I’m talking the whole screaming at each other in public and then pouring beer on each other to even the score kind of mess. There it was again; all that baggage I thought I tossed years ago, staring me right in the face, mocking what I thought was my new life and new super-happy relationship.

I might be an extreme case (in fact, I know I am), but after the failure of this relationship, that was all lovey-dovey, fairy-tale, red roses on the outside, I began to question, quite Carrie Bradshaw-esque-ly, if we can ever really escape our pasts. Read More »

Here’s a shocker: BBC News reports that young girls face increasing pressure to become sexualized at younger ages, and besides becoming sluttier and sluttier, they also give into self-destructive habits to cope with social stress.

My first thought? Oh, no! Save the children. My second thought? Ummm, obvi?

When I was young, my role models were Barbie and Kelly Kapowski. Barbie had an impossible waist paired with magic tits, and Kelly Kapowski had cheated on Zack Morris with college boy Jeff, her boss at the Max. Parents today are concerned that the Bratz dolls negatively influence girls’ body images. I think they look like ghetto skanks with big heads, myself. But I suppose if they are inspiring young girls to seek a ghetto-skank look, there is cause for concern.

But I digress. BBC reports that girls are suffering from various social anxieties: two in five girls studied knew someone who had self-harmed; two in five knew someone who had panic attacks; and one in three knew someone with an eating disorder.

These problems suck; I know, I’ve dealt with all of them. I went through a brief bout of anorexia when I was thirteen, dropping to 104 pounds on a 5′7” frame. When I started eating again after an intervention, knives and razors became my friends. Read More »

I can’t speak for all women (even though I tend to try), but a lot of my self esteem comes from my ability to perform tasks well. Like bowling, or making people laugh or getting really good grades in school. My parents were never the type to stand over me and push me to do well. I pushed myself. Poor performance on an exam or in a class meant that I was not good at something and made me look bad next to my friends.

The fact that I did well in school left me with a lot of confidence and self worth when I moved on and began doing other things. I knew that I could do just about anything if I wanted to, which is how I approached the job hunt after college and how I continue to approach every task that is put in front of me. I know I am intelligent and capable and that leaves me with a sense of comfort and mental clarity as I go through life.

I can totally understand, then, the results of a recent study that claim that women who are expelled or drop out of high school experience a much higher rate of mental instability and depression than men.
For one thing, the inability to complete a task will weigh on anyone; especially one that will affect the course of the rest of your life. And, because women tend to be more in tune with their emotions, it makes sense that this would affect them more than their male counterparts. (Or at least what those macho, “I’m fine” boys are reporting.) Read More »

First it was Lindsay Lohan saying her rehab stint was due to exhaustion, then it was Eva Mendes supposedly going in for research, now Kirsten Dunst is blaming her trip to detox on depression. Is this the true story or just another celebrity crying wolf?

In February, Dunst checked into Utah’s Cirque Lodge Treatment Center, the same facility that housed Lohan and Mendes, after several pictures of her looking trashed surfaced. Dunst told E! Online that she was “struggling” and said: “I had the opportunity to go somewhere and take care of myself.”

A source close to Dunst (whatever the hell that means) told PEOPLE Magazine that drinking wasn’t the source of her problems, but that “She couldn’t control her depression.” When Dunst first went to rehab, another friend told the mag that she’d “been crying a lot lately.” Maybe she’s depressed because she’s surrounded by friends who’ll sell her secrets to a tabloid for a few quick bucks? Just a thought… Read More »

Alfred Lord Tennyson, I wholeheartedly disagree with you.

I was 42 miles away from home on the night that I nearly killed myself.

I don’t remember what time it was; only that it was the very early morning of May 27 and that any warmth that had lingered from the daylight hours into the evening of May 26 had been driven out by the pre-sunrise chill.

I had just celebrated my 21st birthday and I was standing with a knife against my chest eight feet and two years away from the spot where the ex said, “I love you” for the first time. He was in another part of his house telling my friend probably something similar to what he’d once told me.

My life has been all about the experience, whether living them out or encouraging others to have their own — the crazier the better. Because no experience is too small, I feel a certain a sense of achievement in knowing that I have lived through this life of mine so far.

And love itself is crazy – it can potentially lead you to speak, think and act in ways that you once thought unthinkable. It can be atmospheric and humbling all at once. Depending on the type that you have, love can be your foundation or your salvation or it can emotionally and mentally cripple you.

So though I say all of that and despite the fact that I know that regret is a waste of time, even this experience junky feels some regret in remembering the ex whose love I wished I’d never known. Read More »