Posted by: ImpendingDawn | September 13, 2011

School Tips From A Crazy Person

I am writing this from a desk in the Computer Commons at my [insert snobby voice here] “post-secondary institution.”

Things I have learned during the first week of school:

  • Plan to arrive at your bus stop AT LEAST five minutes early – preferably ten.
  • DO NOT sit next to an obese person on the bus. Not only will their fat squish your bum and hips, you will be crushed if they fall asleep.
  • Building on the last point, if you get sleepy on car/bus/hot air balloon rides, SIT NEXT TO THE WINDOW. Nobody wants a stranger sleeping on their shoulder, okay?
  • Keep a large sum of money in your bank account for books and other supplies. If there is no way you can buy everything for the first day of classes, MAKE SURE to buy the books; not only will you most likely need them immediately, they can take weeks to order if the book store runs out. And being without books for weeks is not only a pain in the ass, it’s kind of embarrassing.
  • If you are bringing a lunch from home, refrain from those delicious microwave meals for a while – at least until you figure out where the microwaves are.
  • *Attempt* to stay calm and confident. Start conversations with people – they’re in need of friends just as much as you are. Note the usage of the word confident. Did I say snobby, pompous, or arrogant? NO. Nobody wants to hear you bragging about your previous schooling, the fact that you have already worked in the industry, or the year that you spent raising a baby warthog. It might make you feel awesome, but it will alienate most potential friends.
  • Bring a maaaaaaaap! Maps are fun. Getting lost isn’t.

On a more personal level, I discovered that my school offers free personal counseling! Yays! You have to either call them and book an appointment, or go to the office in person and talk to a receptionist. However, I must admit that I am absolutely terrified to do so. I’ve never gotten counseling before! And even though I know I need some help, going to a counselor makes my problems so… official. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

But! Happy personal discovery! I can make friends. I might actually be GOOD at making friends! Crazy, right? *glee*

Posted by: ImpendingDawn | August 31, 2011

Fuddy Old Men

This post was originally going to be titled ‘Finding Yourself After Depression’ but I decided that sounded like a useless self-help book written by a fuddy duddy old man. So there’s my explanation for the extremely random title.

Realization Time: I don’t know what I like anymore. The best I have is a vague idea. Most people spend their teen years figuring out what style of clothing they like, the type of music that speaks to them, and the activities they enjoy; I spent the majority of mine struggling to breathe despite a fog of despair. (Melodramatic much?)

Black or grey and very plain were my clothing requirements. Converse for footwear. I listened to a lot of rock, metal, and metalcore because it was the only type of music I could identify with. All I wanted to hear was something loud and angry; something that hurt my ears as much as the razors hurt my skin. And as for actually enjoying activities? Hmm. I liked taking pictures of fun times with my friends, because I was thankful for the break from my constant self-pity and my friends made me smile. And when things in my brain got really bad and I seemed to have lost the ability to smile, I was thankful that if my silence and my constant long sleeves caused anyone to wonder about my mental health, they could simply look at my Facebook pictures and convince themselves that I was just shy. Clearly I wasn’t depressed.

But now? Now I’m not depressed, which is a good thing. I don’t really know about anything else though.

Well… I know that I’m tired of the ever-present Converse and dark clothing. While I’m still not comfortable wearing a lot of color, I am definitely introducing a lot more of it to my wardrobe. Also I have bought several shoes that are NOT Converse. And I know that I like and can identify with genres besides various types of rock – indie and pop, for instance. Furthermore, I’ve realized that I don’t like rock simply because I can identify with the anger; I truly do love the tone of the vocals and the way the instruments mesh. I’m still learning what I enjoy in terms of activities, though. And due to the fact that I’ve basically been stuck in a rut for four years, I’m going to need to be okay with continuing to learn and change in all areas of my life.  

Life is a learning process though, right? Maybe I’m starting to learn these things a few years later than my peers, but oh well. There’s no rush. Not to mention that I’m 18 and beginning post-secondary, which is when people usually start reevaluating these things anyway.

So Imma go on an adventure of self-discovery! The kind of adventure far too epic for fuddy old men. Hehe.

Posted by: ImpendingDawn | August 26, 2011

No therapy pour moi!


Do you people have any idea how expensive therapy is? I looked into booking a session with a local therapist, and was astounded by the fee. One hundred and seventy-five dollars for ONE SESSION. How does anyone pay for that shit?

My plan was to begin regular therapy in September, right around the time that I start attending post-secondary. (AHHHH! POST-SECONDARY!) I figured that would be a good time to start, because it’s tough already to deal with my wacked body image and keep clear of physical self-harm, and I imagine the added stress of school will only intensify those issues.

So much for that plan. Hehe. ALSO I was looking into buying a car so I would be able to actually transport myself to and from work and other places without having to rely on my parents, boyfriend, best friend, or anyone else that happens to have a vehicle and I CAN’T FRIGGEN AFFORD THAT EITHER. The way it’s looking right now, I’m going to be forced to mooch off my parents until I’m about 27 and they kick me out, at which point I’ll become a prostitute.

So! My point is: Only the rich can afford to be mentally ill.

Wish I woulda known that about four years ago. Sheesh.

P.S. The fact that I had no income for two and a half weeks due to pneumonia and still paid for a day of skydiving along with regular rent and phone bills might have something to do with my lack of money… But I’m just going to make use of my artistic license and ignore those insignificant details. =)

Posted by: ImpendingDawn | August 3, 2011

Pneumonia: Ruining My Grade 6 Spelling Test, Among Other Things

My brain is a strange thing. Sometimes it’s extremely selfish, and sometimes it’s selfless to the point of ridiculousness.

Currently, I am at home sick with a terrible case of pneumonia that I have most likely been attempting to fight it off for nearly a week with no medication, yet all I can think about is the fact that I have a responsibility to my workplace and I need to be there. How dumb is that?

Speaking of dumb, I’ve been struggling more and more with body image, yet I refuse to tell anyone other than my boyfriend (and he pretty much figured it out on his own). I look in the mirror and it seems like outrageous amounts of fat are taking over my body. People who are apparently anorexic and at a terribly unhealthy body weight look normal to me. It doesn’t make sense. What’s happening to my brain?

I just want to struggle through this on my own and save everyone else the burden of my petty problems. In my mind, the fact that one person knows is bad enough. He thinks I should tell my mother and get some help; I refused because I don’t want her to worry about me. She’s a wonderful mother and it’s not her fault I’m so messed up. It’s better if she doesn’t know. And in any case, this isn’t serious. I can get through it on my own. I’ll be fine.

But this is the kind of thinking I employed during my first few months of depression, and those few months turned into over four years. Do I really want to go through something like that all over again?

Also. I’ve avoided writing about the body image thing thus far because even though I started my blog so I could feel like I have somewhere safe to vent about my problems, I don’t want to write yet another depressing post for other people to read. Like I said, my brain is sometimes selfless to the point of ridiculousness.

But I should talk to my mom. I really should. And probably consider therapy. Hey, maybe if I can get all this depressing crud out of my system in therapy, you lovely WordPress people won’t have to hear about it anymore! Hehe.

P.S. Pneumonia was seriously the only word that I couldn’t remember how to spell in that stupid giant spelling test at the end of Grade 6. Let me tell you, I sure know how to spell it now. Erg.

Posted by: ImpendingDawn | July 21, 2011

Things That Should NEVER be Posted on Facebook

Constant Complaining
Blah blah blah, I have no friends, my life sucks, and I’m going to burden everyone on Facebook with my constant updates about how much my life sucks and how badly I need friends.

Quit complaining, get off the damn computer, and MAKE SOME. And FYI, you probably do or did have friends, but your terrible attitude is driving them away. Either change something or accept your “awful” life. Sheesh.

Relationship Details
My life revolves around my significant other and how much I love, hate, or am attracted to him/her at this point in time. 

It’s fine to post cute statuses and wall posts every once in a while. Whatever. It is NOT fine to post details about your sex life, or your most recent argument. Nobody else needs to know, and it’s probably just going to make the situation worse.

Neverending Drunken Posts
Nothing in my life matters except when and where I’ll be drinking, possible updates while drinking, complaints about the ensuing hangover from excessive drinking, and plans for the next time I’ll be drinking.

Okay. PLEASE get a life. Or set up a meeting to talk about your alcoholism. And if you can’t do that, get the heck off Facebook. A couple drunken updates are funny, and it’s perfectly normal to make plans over Facebook every once in a while. BUT MODERATION IS A GOOD THING. Both on Facebook and off. *hint hint*

Inconsequential Updates
I’m either extremely conceited and think that everybody needs to know all of the lame things I’m doing all day, or my life is simply so boring that I have nothing to talk about except laundry and cleaning the house.

GET A TWITTER. ’nuff said.

The next three are similar and I’ve ranked them in terms of personal annoyance.

1. Vague Speculation
“Not sure if I made the right decision…”

Maybe, maybe not, blah blah blah. SHUT UP. Nobody cares.

2. Anonymous Anger
“I thought you were my friend, but I guess you proved me wrong!” 

Umm… Passive aggressive much? Either talk to the person directly, or find a less retarded way of getting your anger out. Like… writing in a blog… Heh.

3. Anonymous Gushing
“Omg, boy, you’re SO CUTE.”

What are you, twelve? Be quiet. If you really want to gush, keep it to your inner circle of squealing little friends. Gah.

So there you have it! I did want to post word for word status updates from some of my Facebook friends, but figured that would be a bit too personal… and mean… But I have honestly seen these kind of updates on my Facebook. Please, for the love of all that is decent, GROW UP. This isn’t Nexopia, people.

She’s been by my side for over four years. We weren’t close at first… In fact, she thought I was younger than her because I always hung out with her sister; I was merely avoiding her because she terrified me. However, we slowly bonded due to a baptismal class, several family friends, and a mutual love of Timmy’s coffee. And now we have the kind of friendship I thought only existed in movies. We can have full conversations with only a few words. We can laugh together, cry together (as long as we’re not looking at each other) and neither of us is afraid to mention it when the other one is acting like a moron. We’ve got a good thing going on.

He was my friend for two years and we’ve been together for nearly one. There was a nearly immediate attraction on both our parts, but it went unspoken. Due to our mutual ignorance, there were a lot of ups and downs in our friendship.

Both of us: Wow, I like this person.
Him: I don’t have a chance. I’m going to let this go.
Me: He doesn’t seem interested. I didn’t have a chance anyway.
*we get involved with other people*
*our friendship suffers*

And on and on and on. Though, to be fair, we had a chance to be together and I completely botched it and told him “I just wanted to be friends.” *facepalm* Oh well. In any case, we grew very close in the months before we started dating. Our relationship has been built on mutual love and trust, and I couldn’t be happier with him. We’ve also got a good thing going on.

DILEMMA: I am one person who has been blessed with not one, but TWO best friends. How I managed that, I have no idea. And how I’m going to manage that in the future is also a mystery to me.

It is no longer her and I against the world. She doesn’t automatically have first dibs on my free time anymore, and my free time is grower more and more scarce. Add in conflicting work schedules and you’ve got an interesting problem. Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t live with his parents anymore and so can be out at all times of the night, while she has a strict curfew that comes into effect half an hour after I get off work.

We used to see each other every Sunday for church and every Friday for youth, and during school we had our Wednesday Night Phone Calls where we’d catch each other up on the week so far, vent about our recent frustrations, and just basically chat about any random thing that popped into our heads. Then our schedules changed, so we adapted and set up Thursday Therapy, so named because we had been talking at the time about the lack of affection in my relationship with my brother. (I am happy to report that our relationship is now much healthier and we actually hug each other several times a week. Just saying.)

And now I work full time evenings and weekends and she works full time days. We stopped attending youth when we graduated high school. We don’t have a set day to chat, and we rarely even talk on the phone anymore due to recently acquired cell phones and the novelty of texting. I also don’t regularly attend our old church, as I felt it wasn’t filling my spiritual needs anymore. Let’s face it, I only go there now for the social aspects. Although it is amazing to have friends in your place of worship, social interaction shouldn’t be the only reason you’re still attending a particular church. 

So I see her less, and him more. And that makes me feel guilty, and I hate guilt, so I run even farther away from her.

I really don’t know how someone who is used to running away rather than getting close ever managed to form friendships with two of the most wonderful people in the world… Maybe I’ll never know. But they’re in my life for a reason, and I’m going to do my best to keep them there. Maybe I’m not in love with her, but I do still love her. And maybe the “joy” part of the title was mostly sarcastic, but perhaps that’s my problem; I’m taking them for granted and focusing on the less pleasant parts of trying to split time between two extremely important people, rather than the fact that I have these amazing friends in the first place.

So I have two best friends and I’m in love with one of them. So life is complicated and time never seems enough. So what? They’re worth it. *cue L’oreal commercial music*


Posted by: ImpendingDawn | July 4, 2011

Being Lazy

Hello, and welcome to the shortest update post EVAR.

1. Rebuild my relationship with Jesus.

Slowly but surely coming along. 🙂

2. Read the Bible every day.

Nope. Haven’t read in it probably two months. Oh well.

3. Clean up my language.

HAHAHA. Definitely not. It’s a problem, and one that I keep telling myself I’ll work on and never do. Whatever.

4. Get help for depression and cutting. 

It seems that the depression that plagued me for four and a half years is finally receding. :O I still have dark days, and I struggle often with guilt, but I’m slowly getting better. And I haven’t cut for OVER FOUR MONTHS. That’s just crazy to me. MOAR DETAILS LATER, FOLKS.

And thus concludes the shortest update post ever.

This is the fourth time in the past two and a half weeks that I have read or seen something referencing cutting, depression, or mental hospitals. And eating disorders have been brought up twice. I’m not really a person who believes in coincidences, and this feels like an attack to me. A terribly, terribly accurate attack.

Why is this happening right after I pass the four-month mark of no self-harm?

I’m not going to lie, an alarmingly large part of me misses being a cutter. It was nice to have a secret. It was nice to feel different.

But it’s better to feel alive. And I like that I’m starting to feel like a single coherent person, rather than someone shredded in two by logical thought and addictive impulses. So in the end, it doesn’t really matter whether this is actually an attack or merely a paranoid writer overanalyzing everything. What matters is the fact that I am getting stronger every day, and I am going to keep fighting this.

I will fight until I reach a point where I can see or read or hear references to issues that I struggle with and not feel the terrible urge to claw at my wrists or starve myself or lock myself in my room for weeks in order to wallow in a depressed, vegetative state. And once I can do that successfully, I will keep fighting until I am able to spend an entire day talking with someone about my past without feeling the need to resurrect it in the present.


But probably not. Let’s stay realistic here.

Posted by: ImpendingDawn | June 21, 2011

Your Love Never Fails

Attending YC has always been a life-changing experience for me. I’m never quite the same at the end of the weekend as I was at the beginning. My perspective is dramatically altered, and I often find myself supporting and needing the support of others as everything we thought we knew about life and God is challenged, shifted, and renewed.

Challenge has really been the key word for the past while. Last year I went to YC and was thrilled and infatuated by a glimpse of God. I foolishly believed that a single extraordinary conversation with Him would immediately and dramatically change my entire life. I guess it did, in a way. A way that I was not expecting.

What I wanted was an easy life, a sense of security, a clean break from the depression that had been haunting me for years. I wanted to renew my relationship with God to its former state with a simple prayer. I wanted my faith back; I needed my faith back. 

Instead, I returned home and was confronted with a new onslaught of doubts. What if that conversation was just my imagination? What if I was only telling myself what I wanted to hear? What if God doesn’t really exist?

What if He doesn’t exist? What if He doesn’t exist? My life is meaningless. Life is meaningless. Everything… I love… is gone.

And the deepest depression I had ever known swallowed me into its clutches. The Devil himself had a grip on me, and he wasn’t letting go. I battled self-hatred, hopelessness, addiction. My skin was brutally marred with razors, nail files, my own fingernails. Blood welled up from my body, but never enough. Depression clung, body dysmorphia intensified. I flirted with the idea of self-starvation. My faith was gone and my suicide was planned.

But I didn’t go through with it. Why? It wasn’t cowardice. It’s not like I had anything to live for. I wasn’t afraid of death; in fact, I longed for it.

It was God.

God saved me.

And gradually, so gradually, I began to feel the hand of God on my life again. At first His presence was so difficult to detect that my doubts told me I was making things up again. He persisted. Over many, many long months, He persisted. And the changes that He had begun in my heart so long ago finally began to surface.

I’m learning that I deserve more than constant pain. I’m learning to look in the mirror again. I’m learning to believe people when they tell me they love me. I’m learning to feel happiness, and smile when I do.

I can now hold a knife without feeling the urge to hurt myself. I can eat a burger without needing to starve myself the next day. I can wake up and FEEL. I’m not numb. I’m not empty. I’m not hopeless. I have faith.

Not everyone can say that, though. And if I was nearly crushed by a dramatic loss of faith simply so I could help someone else through the same thing, so be it. If I can make even the smallest difference in another’s person’s life through my renewed faith in God’s love, I would willingly go through all of my struggles again. Because in the end, I want my life to be like YC. I want to be constantly challenged; I want my perspective shifted and my spirit renewed. And if I can accept support through this process, and offer mine to those around me, I’d say that’s a pretty damn good life.

P.S. I had a pretty sweet video I wanted to attach to this post, but it didn’t work. I also had a somewhat hilarious picture of Harold Camping for my last post, and I wasn’t able to attach that either. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with the media sharing on the blog of the sudden, but I do apologize for the lack of visual interest. <<Click this link to see the song that inspired the title!

All this talk about the apocalypse is peeving me off. To be more specific, Harold Camping, a self-proclaimed prophet and the owner of a Christian radio station, is peeving me off. He has recently made himself and his followers look like total morons. Again.

In 1992 Camping published a book entitled 1994? in which he claimed to have calculated the date of the second coming of Christ. While he said the exact day could not be known, he was certain the Lord would return in mid-September of 1994. September came and went. Nothing.

He brushed this off, attributing his error to misunderstanding the importance of the Jewish Feats of Tabernacles. Um, what? Nevertheless, he forged on and eventually came up with a new date: May 21, 2011. So he whipped all of his followers up into a frenzy – again – and began preparing for the end of the world. Donations poured in, many people selling their houses and personal belongings so they could completely devote themselves to ministry before the rapture. May 21st came and went. Nothing.

By now the majority of the world was filled with scorn for Harold Camping and the unfortunate fanatics that bought into his lunacy. And what did he do when he woke up on May 22nd? He admitted his bewilderment over the fact that a cataclysmic event did not, in fact, obliterate the world, but then he REVISED HIS PROPHECY. AGAIN. S;RNGOS;NGK.JDBGS;J!!!

So now we can expect the apocalypse on October 21st, 2011. Or perhaps sometime in 2012, if you believe the theories revolving around the Mayan calendar. Or maybe you’re one of those people who expected the world to end in the year 2000, and are still perplexed over the fact that it did not. Whatever.

My point is that I am SICK of people babbling on about the apocalypse. I am ANGRY that one person has made the majority of Christians look like idiots. (Because what one God-fearing person believes is what all God-fearing people believe. Obviously.) But most of all, I am FED UP WITH MY FACEBOOK NEWS FEED BEING BLOWN UP BY ALL THE POST “RAPTURE” ARGUMENTS. CALM YOUR HORMONES, PEOPLE.

Hormones was not really applicable in that context.

In closing, please enjoy this gif of a dude off The Office getting slapped. And no, this is not in any way related to my feelings towards certain members of humanity.

Gifs at

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