I am a son, a brother, a cousin, an uncle and a friend.
I am a son to my Mother. For all intensive purposes, my uncle raised me for what I am today.
At the turn of April 20th of 2013, I had a stepfather I was calling dad, and a grandfather who I was planning to be close to. Learn from and play crib with.
2 weeks later I lost the rock of our family. My grandfather passed.
5 months later I lost my stepfather because he pursued selfish endeavors
For the next year, I wore the face of a man who lost nothing, who was becoming his own man.
I was not that. I will probably never show my cards to you. I only write about my cards; metaphorically.
I was dealt a shit hand in terms of having a father early. I never knew my biological father. It didn't effect me to not know who he was.
Losing my stepfather in the manner I did crushed me. Crushed me then. Crushed me for a year and as of recently it is crushing me repeatedly like a garbage compactor. My brain is missing that piece. My stepfather did not do much. What he did do, is provide stability. He was not smart, he was not proactive. He did what he needed to do to make us stable.
It is something that I have not experienced since he up and vanished. Nothing ever really feels stable. Money may never be stable for me and my family.
I want it to be. I don't want to admit that him leaving has effected the person I am today.
...
It has, I am a ball of anxiety waiting for the teeter totter to push back to the other side. Somedays the other side is weightless and nothing happens. Other times I may never come down because the weight is on the other side. It is the fear of the latter that cripples me.
No stability.
I should not complain, we fought our way through him leaving, became a cohesive household. I just was not ready to be thrust into the man of the house role and go to school.
I do have longstanding father issues. Or rather just an issue with the thought that all the male role models in my life are lost, or forgotten.
...
There will never be a day where I forgive those trespasses of my father or Dave.
Simply, pulling the sheet out from under an entire household is one of the most painful things you can do.
I have unresolved issues, I don't want to talk to a therapist or even a person. Rather broadcast it on the internet.
Because you cannot see the pain. You cannot see the face of a man so worn by the lack of stability in his life.
"We call them cool, the heart that have no scars to show. The ones that never do let go and risk the tables being turned" Garth Brooks.
Best Regards,
Devon
This is my life, contains anxiety and the constant struggle with the unknown.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Homophobia? Why? What? Where? When? Who Cares?
Hello old friends. I'm back in the saddle again. Taking a break from the darkness and demons to address something that plagues much of society today. Homophobia.
No homo,
That's gay,
You're a fag.
The extreme disconnect on societies social commentary is summed up in those 3 words. Even if a person is not homophobic they have/have in the past addressed something as homosexual.
Along the same lines as "That's stupid". However, I don't understand the necessity.
In the media you will notice a distinct clash. Sitcoms, newspapers and newscast that will use homophobic language for eyegrabbing headlines, easy jokes or to get you upset about something to create more traffic. On the other side of it are modest human beings who write blogs, essays and sometimes a thesis paper about the blatant and unfriendly use of homophobic language in the media.
Of most note, and what I have noticed more than anything else. The scene on Community where Ken Jeong's Character "Senor Chang" shouts out: "Hah, Gay". This has taken on many forms, many memes and is used and abused over and over again. When an athlete comes out, Twitter lights aflame with homophobic and the image of Ken Jeong.
Sadly, Ken Jeong is known for being a naked Korean guy who beats Bradley Cooper with a tire iron... And that image of him yelling "Gay"
To truly understand the rampant homophobia in the world, you need to grow up. I don't mean in some metaphorical sense. But, through middle school, Homophobic slurs are used as nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs. My time in Jr. High was marred with a bunch of nerds who used these terms. Many of them become trolls. I was told at an early age. Act your age. If I used something stupidly immature. All it took was someone to say "How Old Are You?" Honestly, This is the best way to approach those people who take sincere offense with a man and a man, woman and woman, trans and trans or any variation where two members of the same sex are coupled.
Saying, "how old are you" is probably one of the hardest hitting phrases you can say to someone acting stupid. That's not to say it will correct homophobia. I'm not saying it will eliminate the slurs. The terms have become so dated that it is actually jarring for me to hear them at this point in my life.
When I was about 15, I made a conscious thought of "Who cares".
The first time you hear of same sex coupling is kind of shocking. That's how we are programmed as children. From the time we are born we learn to distinguish ourselves through colours, toys and clothes. So, as we get older we accept that we like the opposite sex. It becomes more difficult for those who were raised with those gender roles to accept anything other than that.
It is a multi-leveled system failure. Education is one of my biggest gripes with it. There is no punishment for spewing hate. There is no punishment for death threats. We've become so numb to the catastrophe that our education system presents that we do not bat an eye. You are never taught in any classes that "Same Sex Marriage" is normal. In fact, through health, CALM and other biology courses you are taught there is one way. That's it.
It becomes more engrained and more reinforced through media. Books, Movies and TV Shows where a person comes out as a homosexual and is either avoided or is made fun of. They are made to feel as if they are different because of sexual orientation.
The wrap up my thoughts. Homophobia will most likely always exist at an educational level. Because stubborn, arrogant and naive parents will not let their kids learn that same sex marriage is okay. Because of this, the language will be used into adolescence and adulthood. Furthering the abilities of TV Shows and Movies to use homophobic language.
So, to those who may be a closeted homophobic who will read this post. I ask "How old are you"
Regards,
Devon
No homo,
That's gay,
You're a fag.
The extreme disconnect on societies social commentary is summed up in those 3 words. Even if a person is not homophobic they have/have in the past addressed something as homosexual.
Along the same lines as "That's stupid". However, I don't understand the necessity.
In the media you will notice a distinct clash. Sitcoms, newspapers and newscast that will use homophobic language for eyegrabbing headlines, easy jokes or to get you upset about something to create more traffic. On the other side of it are modest human beings who write blogs, essays and sometimes a thesis paper about the blatant and unfriendly use of homophobic language in the media.
Of most note, and what I have noticed more than anything else. The scene on Community where Ken Jeong's Character "Senor Chang" shouts out: "Hah, Gay". This has taken on many forms, many memes and is used and abused over and over again. When an athlete comes out, Twitter lights aflame with homophobic and the image of Ken Jeong.
Sadly, Ken Jeong is known for being a naked Korean guy who beats Bradley Cooper with a tire iron... And that image of him yelling "Gay"
To truly understand the rampant homophobia in the world, you need to grow up. I don't mean in some metaphorical sense. But, through middle school, Homophobic slurs are used as nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs. My time in Jr. High was marred with a bunch of nerds who used these terms. Many of them become trolls. I was told at an early age. Act your age. If I used something stupidly immature. All it took was someone to say "How Old Are You?" Honestly, This is the best way to approach those people who take sincere offense with a man and a man, woman and woman, trans and trans or any variation where two members of the same sex are coupled.
Saying, "how old are you" is probably one of the hardest hitting phrases you can say to someone acting stupid. That's not to say it will correct homophobia. I'm not saying it will eliminate the slurs. The terms have become so dated that it is actually jarring for me to hear them at this point in my life.
When I was about 15, I made a conscious thought of "Who cares".
The first time you hear of same sex coupling is kind of shocking. That's how we are programmed as children. From the time we are born we learn to distinguish ourselves through colours, toys and clothes. So, as we get older we accept that we like the opposite sex. It becomes more difficult for those who were raised with those gender roles to accept anything other than that.
It is a multi-leveled system failure. Education is one of my biggest gripes with it. There is no punishment for spewing hate. There is no punishment for death threats. We've become so numb to the catastrophe that our education system presents that we do not bat an eye. You are never taught in any classes that "Same Sex Marriage" is normal. In fact, through health, CALM and other biology courses you are taught there is one way. That's it.
It becomes more engrained and more reinforced through media. Books, Movies and TV Shows where a person comes out as a homosexual and is either avoided or is made fun of. They are made to feel as if they are different because of sexual orientation.
The wrap up my thoughts. Homophobia will most likely always exist at an educational level. Because stubborn, arrogant and naive parents will not let their kids learn that same sex marriage is okay. Because of this, the language will be used into adolescence and adulthood. Furthering the abilities of TV Shows and Movies to use homophobic language.
So, to those who may be a closeted homophobic who will read this post. I ask "How old are you"
Regards,
Devon
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Mishandling serious mental health issues at instutional levels
Over the past 5 weeks. 3 students. 3 Young intelligent minds attending post secondary school. Ended their lives. It is not easy to find this information. The U of A and surrounding post secondary institutions do a fantastic job at hiding it. This is unfortunate. As a former student and a depression sufferer. I never saw a light. I never saw any way out of school. If I did, I was told I would never live a happy financial comfortable life.
In some cases. Yes, you may not get your dream job unless you incur 50 thousand dollars of debt and have your emotions bludgeoned by your GPA.
This is the sadness that is school.
Happy smiling faces on the post secondary websites! Get the Career you want! Easy, Flexible courses! Great Professors! Crippling debt and anxiety!
Wait. That last one is forfeited from the advertisements. But, why? If you are preparing young people for the realism of life. For the realism of the world. For the realism of school and the life after school. You should advertise that mental health is a major role in post secondary education. It is that simple.
You should offer mental health services. Not to take away from the U of A. But, You have thousands of students. Most of whom do not know they need help. You do not help them or point them in that direction. Terribly, you omit any realism of depression. You have "psychologists" or mice in training. Who act about as efficiently as talking to yourself in the mirror. So, say you get help. They talk to you (maybe) tell you that your personal life might be effecting you and you should not take school as seriously.
Wait a minute.... At a school, telling you not to take school seriously. I take 5000 dollars seriously. Apparently they don't.
So, you talk to them. You expect medication to help stabilize you enough that you can swallow 3 labs and 6 courses and the constant berating from professors. Nope. You have to wait 2-3 months.
That's great. People in need now, who may need meds urgently. Or at least a placebo.
They are told "Cool man, wait 2 months. Enjoy school, though"
That is not professional, it is not caring and it is not healthy. It is cruel and damn well criminal.
It might be the sheer amount of students needing help, it may be the lack of activity in the work force. It may be you just want the money to afford that house looking over the river valley.
Whatever the case
U OF A, YOU ARE TERRIBLE AT HANDLING MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES OF THE STUDENTS WHO KEEP YOUR BILLS PAID AND BUILDINGS RUNNING.
You hid 1 suicide completely, considered one a "hazardous waste clean up" and the third one was because people had released it on social media. Tell people to help themselves. Tell people to become a healthy mind before they become intelligent. They can regurgitate information while they battle demons. But, the demons will remain in the brain. Never the information.
I'm ultimately concerned of the suicides that may have happened and we never know. I'm concerned about the future of the minds of students.
Student Union, Professors, Faculty, Deans and the institution in general has failed on a colossal scale. No one has said anything.
Maybe someone will read this. Maybe they won't.
If you are a student. Call a hotline, call a friend, tell your parents that you are depressed. Whether they can help you or not may not matter. Being able to tell someone that you are sick is invaluable to your health.
Best Regards,
Devon
________________________________________________________________________
Devon is a survivor of 3 years of post secondary. He will never recover from the damage done from living with the depression that comes with post secondary.
Devon can be reached at devonmhunt@gmail.com
In some cases. Yes, you may not get your dream job unless you incur 50 thousand dollars of debt and have your emotions bludgeoned by your GPA.
This is the sadness that is school.
Happy smiling faces on the post secondary websites! Get the Career you want! Easy, Flexible courses! Great Professors! Crippling debt and anxiety!
Wait. That last one is forfeited from the advertisements. But, why? If you are preparing young people for the realism of life. For the realism of the world. For the realism of school and the life after school. You should advertise that mental health is a major role in post secondary education. It is that simple.
You should offer mental health services. Not to take away from the U of A. But, You have thousands of students. Most of whom do not know they need help. You do not help them or point them in that direction. Terribly, you omit any realism of depression. You have "psychologists" or mice in training. Who act about as efficiently as talking to yourself in the mirror. So, say you get help. They talk to you (maybe) tell you that your personal life might be effecting you and you should not take school as seriously.
Wait a minute.... At a school, telling you not to take school seriously. I take 5000 dollars seriously. Apparently they don't.
So, you talk to them. You expect medication to help stabilize you enough that you can swallow 3 labs and 6 courses and the constant berating from professors. Nope. You have to wait 2-3 months.
That's great. People in need now, who may need meds urgently. Or at least a placebo.
They are told "Cool man, wait 2 months. Enjoy school, though"
That is not professional, it is not caring and it is not healthy. It is cruel and damn well criminal.
It might be the sheer amount of students needing help, it may be the lack of activity in the work force. It may be you just want the money to afford that house looking over the river valley.
Whatever the case
U OF A, YOU ARE TERRIBLE AT HANDLING MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES OF THE STUDENTS WHO KEEP YOUR BILLS PAID AND BUILDINGS RUNNING.
You hid 1 suicide completely, considered one a "hazardous waste clean up" and the third one was because people had released it on social media. Tell people to help themselves. Tell people to become a healthy mind before they become intelligent. They can regurgitate information while they battle demons. But, the demons will remain in the brain. Never the information.
I'm ultimately concerned of the suicides that may have happened and we never know. I'm concerned about the future of the minds of students.
Student Union, Professors, Faculty, Deans and the institution in general has failed on a colossal scale. No one has said anything.
Maybe someone will read this. Maybe they won't.
If you are a student. Call a hotline, call a friend, tell your parents that you are depressed. Whether they can help you or not may not matter. Being able to tell someone that you are sick is invaluable to your health.
Best Regards,
Devon
________________________________________________________________________
Devon is a survivor of 3 years of post secondary. He will never recover from the damage done from living with the depression that comes with post secondary.
Devon can be reached at devonmhunt@gmail.com
28 days
I've become a cliche.
In biology 20, if you have ever taken it that men... In a way, do have a menstrual cycle. Sans bleeding. But, we totally want the DVD of beaches and the 6 bars of Jersey Milk. Men go through a period of anger, sadness and in some men.. A series of depressive events.
I am one of those men.
I have learned my demons take a vacation (or staycation if you will) and come back ever 26 days.
In that time, I question my life, my existence and revisit the night I decided not to end my life. It has become a visit.
Just the demons wreck shit on their way out. This is what depression feels like for me.
I do not enjoy it. But, in a cynical way. I have become to expect it, and welcome it. As a weird introspective way to view myself. It is never positive. But, it does help me understand my functioning brain.
Over the past 5 weeks, 3 students have committed suicide at the U of A.
Please read next blogpost for follow up.
In biology 20, if you have ever taken it that men... In a way, do have a menstrual cycle. Sans bleeding. But, we totally want the DVD of beaches and the 6 bars of Jersey Milk. Men go through a period of anger, sadness and in some men.. A series of depressive events.
I am one of those men.
I have learned my demons take a vacation (or staycation if you will) and come back ever 26 days.
In that time, I question my life, my existence and revisit the night I decided not to end my life. It has become a visit.
Just the demons wreck shit on their way out. This is what depression feels like for me.
I do not enjoy it. But, in a cynical way. I have become to expect it, and welcome it. As a weird introspective way to view myself. It is never positive. But, it does help me understand my functioning brain.
Over the past 5 weeks, 3 students have committed suicide at the U of A.
Please read next blogpost for follow up.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
My Biggest Regret
If I could. I wouldn't. It has been about 4 years since that incident. It never bothered me, until September. I got to see the face of a person who has been told the worst thing they can hear, and have never truly recovered. I would say your name, but for protection I won't.
Maybe one day you will read this. Maybe one day you will be directed to it, JW.
Know this, my life has changed. Some of it for the better, some of it for the worst. I battled for my fiancee. I was willing to battle to wits end. Sadly, I went past that and I went below the belt.
That day I told you to kill yourself. I remember all 10 minutes of the event. What we were talking about, who was around, what was played. Where we were. I remember it because I recount the day in my head about 3 times a day as of recently. I wish I played it differently. But, that's perhaps the most bitter things about life. You do not get a redo. You do not get a 1 up or a rewind button.
The words hang from my mouth. then Shotputted out. Without regard for me or you. I told you, a person who suffered mental illness as much as me to kill yourself. You were better than me. You could admit it to yourself. You were treating it and working on becoming a better person. I was working on hurting you in the worst way so you would never talk to me again. It worked.
That day changed my life. I hope it changed your life or motivated you. If it depressed you more it would crush me. I never understood the magnitude of those words. At this moment if those words were uttered to me it would make me question life.
It was sociopathic, masochistic and reprehensible. There is no amount of apologizing I can do.
I deserved the slap I got. The slap was the most deserving and the most significant.
It reached my apex, bliss with the woman I fell in love with, to doubting everyone and everything.
The slap launched 4 years of mania, depression, anxiety, a series of failures and some of my greatest battles in life and battling everything with the perfect woman.
I am going to marry the girl I fought for. I wish my strategy was better. I wish I could what i said back. Everyday this semester was a reminder of the monster I was/am.
I gave up on myself this semester and in a way, it was my just dessert.
I said the most heinous thing a person could say to another person.
I am truly sorry.
Best Regards,
Devon Hunt
Maybe one day you will read this. Maybe one day you will be directed to it, JW.
Know this, my life has changed. Some of it for the better, some of it for the worst. I battled for my fiancee. I was willing to battle to wits end. Sadly, I went past that and I went below the belt.
That day I told you to kill yourself. I remember all 10 minutes of the event. What we were talking about, who was around, what was played. Where we were. I remember it because I recount the day in my head about 3 times a day as of recently. I wish I played it differently. But, that's perhaps the most bitter things about life. You do not get a redo. You do not get a 1 up or a rewind button.
The words hang from my mouth. then Shotputted out. Without regard for me or you. I told you, a person who suffered mental illness as much as me to kill yourself. You were better than me. You could admit it to yourself. You were treating it and working on becoming a better person. I was working on hurting you in the worst way so you would never talk to me again. It worked.
That day changed my life. I hope it changed your life or motivated you. If it depressed you more it would crush me. I never understood the magnitude of those words. At this moment if those words were uttered to me it would make me question life.
It was sociopathic, masochistic and reprehensible. There is no amount of apologizing I can do.
I deserved the slap I got. The slap was the most deserving and the most significant.
It reached my apex, bliss with the woman I fell in love with, to doubting everyone and everything.
The slap launched 4 years of mania, depression, anxiety, a series of failures and some of my greatest battles in life and battling everything with the perfect woman.
I am going to marry the girl I fought for. I wish my strategy was better. I wish I could what i said back. Everyday this semester was a reminder of the monster I was/am.
I gave up on myself this semester and in a way, it was my just dessert.
I said the most heinous thing a person could say to another person.
I am truly sorry.
Best Regards,
Devon Hunt
Friday, October 24, 2014
I wish I was dumber
Let me preface this with this: Yes, I am smarter than you. No, you shouldn't feel bad. I'm probably more athletic, have a better job. I have a bigger Johnson then you.. And also a bigger dick (badumtsch). I am better than you at every facet.
^^^^
That person is not me (sub the Dick part, I am huge).
... Right?
I look at everyone around me as better. Maybe, it is conditioning. Maybe it is biological. Maybe it is cultural. It probably isn't Maybelline.
I look at everyone around me as better
I look at everyone around me as better.
I go to my old workplace, people I work with who have a slight pay raise. All the sudden better.
I go to school, overhear people talk about grades. A C- is better. The fucking letter grade could be a W. And I'd be like fuck I'm dumb.
This is one of the major things that plague me the most. I think I am smarter than what I am. I think I am dumber than what I am. I am never happy with my knowledge, my abilities or my thoughts. I can't sleep. But... Suddenly I see your asshole toddler having a nap, I feel such emptiness. "That kid can take a mean nap, and a mean dump all at once and I can't even sleep." I eat. I eat unhealthy. I eat healthy. I eat. I judge everything I eat on how I feel after I have eaten... Da fuq is that.
That's me. I wish I was dumber.
I wouldn't psychoanalyze every waking moment of my life. I do. This sinks me lower into my depression. It sinks it's teeth into me like I'm a burger on David Hasslehoff's binge night.
That stark realism that most of the time I don't know what stark means. But, you will understand what I mean. I'll compulsively look that up though. Immediately get angry that I didn't know that. Such anger that a toddler who woke up with a mean dook in his pants would have.
What I'm saying is. I wish I was dumber in most cases, or at least less likely to psychoanalyze myself.
And I want to be able to take a dump in my pants while I sleep without judgment.
Best Regards,
Devon
^^^^
That person is not me (sub the Dick part, I am huge).
... Right?
I look at everyone around me as better. Maybe, it is conditioning. Maybe it is biological. Maybe it is cultural. It probably isn't Maybelline.
I look at everyone around me as better
I look at everyone around me as better.
I go to my old workplace, people I work with who have a slight pay raise. All the sudden better.
I go to school, overhear people talk about grades. A C- is better. The fucking letter grade could be a W. And I'd be like fuck I'm dumb.
This is one of the major things that plague me the most. I think I am smarter than what I am. I think I am dumber than what I am. I am never happy with my knowledge, my abilities or my thoughts. I can't sleep. But... Suddenly I see your asshole toddler having a nap, I feel such emptiness. "That kid can take a mean nap, and a mean dump all at once and I can't even sleep." I eat. I eat unhealthy. I eat healthy. I eat. I judge everything I eat on how I feel after I have eaten... Da fuq is that.
That's me. I wish I was dumber.
I wouldn't psychoanalyze every waking moment of my life. I do. This sinks me lower into my depression. It sinks it's teeth into me like I'm a burger on David Hasslehoff's binge night.
That stark realism that most of the time I don't know what stark means. But, you will understand what I mean. I'll compulsively look that up though. Immediately get angry that I didn't know that. Such anger that a toddler who woke up with a mean dook in his pants would have.
What I'm saying is. I wish I was dumber in most cases, or at least less likely to psychoanalyze myself.
And I want to be able to take a dump in my pants while I sleep without judgment.
Best Regards,
Devon
Thursday, October 16, 2014
Diminishing Returns
Also known as life. I am writing about Diminishing Returns as it pertains to me, my studies, and my mental health.
This semester I vowed to be happier, more upbeat and more optimistic about life. I was finally mapping out my life, was taking initiative and became myself (more or less). Some days I believe it. For the past two weeks my demons have gotten the better of me.
I dwell on them, I let them slowly overtake not only my mind, but my energy. Slowly draining the life out of me. Not being able to sleep and being sore for 2 weeks has been a learning process. I blame myself. I wanted to just say "Okay, I can battle through, I can go outside. I can go to class. I can function as a human." People who do not suffer depression have the mindset that it would be as easy as saying "Get over it." That will never be the case. There would be no depressed people in the world if that was the case. Depression is not a weakness. Depression is a sickness. A sickness that you cannot really medicate. You can moderate. You cannot escape it. You cannot dissociate. You become depression.
About 3 weeks ago, I was heading into my first midterm, feeling the best I have felt in a long time. I studied for umpteen hours over a couple days. I went in and wrote what I thought was a damn near perfect exam. I checked my mark the following week and received a 45 percent. Which normally I would take on the chin and keep going. But, the time and effort I put into something I actually enjoyed studying made it a bitter, chalky, John Goodman sweaty pill to swallow.
I turned to comedy. My own or stand up. Finding an escape, trying to stay afloat from the impending depression. I failed myself, along with that exam. I let it beat me.
Beat me down. I cannot go to my profs and tell them that I was not attending class because... "I failed class and I am feeling unbelievably depressed." It is not their problem. I'm not the only student who is depressed, I'm not the only student who failed. I am number 175****. That's how I am identified in the system. That's what I am to most professors. A face in the crowd that disappears in 4 months.
Post-secondary is starting your own future. You will put time, energy, debt, sweat, tears, and every ounce of brainpower into it. Some day you may beat it. Most days it will beat you. It will beat you down.
Best Regards,
A man who is depressed, who can't get out of bed. Who doesn't want to get out of bed. A man who uses a lot of contractions.
Best Regards,
Student No. 175****
Best Regards,
Devon Hunt.
This semester I vowed to be happier, more upbeat and more optimistic about life. I was finally mapping out my life, was taking initiative and became myself (more or less). Some days I believe it. For the past two weeks my demons have gotten the better of me.
I dwell on them, I let them slowly overtake not only my mind, but my energy. Slowly draining the life out of me. Not being able to sleep and being sore for 2 weeks has been a learning process. I blame myself. I wanted to just say "Okay, I can battle through, I can go outside. I can go to class. I can function as a human." People who do not suffer depression have the mindset that it would be as easy as saying "Get over it." That will never be the case. There would be no depressed people in the world if that was the case. Depression is not a weakness. Depression is a sickness. A sickness that you cannot really medicate. You can moderate. You cannot escape it. You cannot dissociate. You become depression.
About 3 weeks ago, I was heading into my first midterm, feeling the best I have felt in a long time. I studied for umpteen hours over a couple days. I went in and wrote what I thought was a damn near perfect exam. I checked my mark the following week and received a 45 percent. Which normally I would take on the chin and keep going. But, the time and effort I put into something I actually enjoyed studying made it a bitter, chalky, John Goodman sweaty pill to swallow.
I turned to comedy. My own or stand up. Finding an escape, trying to stay afloat from the impending depression. I failed myself, along with that exam. I let it beat me.
Beat me down. I cannot go to my profs and tell them that I was not attending class because... "I failed class and I am feeling unbelievably depressed." It is not their problem. I'm not the only student who is depressed, I'm not the only student who failed. I am number 175****. That's how I am identified in the system. That's what I am to most professors. A face in the crowd that disappears in 4 months.
Post-secondary is starting your own future. You will put time, energy, debt, sweat, tears, and every ounce of brainpower into it. Some day you may beat it. Most days it will beat you. It will beat you down.
Best Regards,
A man who is depressed, who can't get out of bed. Who doesn't want to get out of bed. A man who uses a lot of contractions.
Best Regards,
Student No. 175****
Best Regards,
Devon Hunt.
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