A Deep Freeze


My goddess.


I really hope everyone watches Frozen because it is such a good movie.

I’ve been thinking of writing a movie review about it because it touches on so many important topics, but there’s something from this article that surprised me. While watching I thought I had picked up on a lot of the very many issues it addresses (the gay family, the fact that no one questioned a single queen’s capability to rule on her own, Elsa calling out Anna on her rushed engagement immediately) but the article mentioned something I probably never would’ve guessed: child abuse.

The king and queen are seen as a lovely couple, but more importantly as loving parents. When Anna got hurt and they wanted to hide away Elsa, I didn’t think much of it. I thought, “They want to keep her safe, they don’t want people abusing their daughter, they don’t want Elsa to accidentally hurt Anna or anyone else, they just want what’s best for her” etc etc. But what the article pointed out is that, in essence, that is what modern child abuse is like. They made Elsa feel like a monster. They made her feel like she was a blight on society that should be kept in isolation, and they made her, pretty much, just feel like shit. But it didn’t look like it.

This was a hard concept for me to think about, until I thought of an example of child abuse in my life.

My friend B, who killed himself last year. His parents took him out of public school, and told everyone it was because he was being bullied. They never said what for (because he was gay) which, like the king and queen, they thought was a monstrosity and dangerous. They wanted to keep him away from people, and people away from him. They told him he needed to suppress his bad thoughts of homosexuality, much like the king and queen wanted Elsa to contain her powers. They made him feel like shit, until he ended his life rather than being who he was.

I’m sure if Frozen was written by the Grimm Brothers, that’s how Elsa’s tale could have ended. But instead, she ran away, and finally found a sense of self-acceptance. Something I wish B could have experienced. I wish he could’ve lived long enough to “let it go” and face the world for how beautiful it really can be. I wish he didn’t see himself as a monster.

Frozen was incredible. 10/10. If you haven’t seen it yet, I really think you must.


Baby’s First Therapy Session

Though countless counselors have been recommending I get professional help since I was in middle school, I had my first therapy appointment last week.

I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and social anxiety.

It was nothing I didn’t anticipate.

I was very interested in the experience though. Of course, I answered completely and wholeheartedly with nothing less than the entire truth, but I was very cognizant of how she was speaking to me. I aspire to be a therapist in the future. Everything she said and did was of vital importance to me.

Mostly, it was an hour full of her asking me question and giving me suggestions about how to approach things that make me happy. She told me that if I was with any other psychologist, they would most likely have put me on medication, but she didn’t want to. Instead she gave me a long list of lifestyle changes I can do to naturally increase my serotonin levels (the hormone in your body that produces pleasure/happiness etc). Just basic stuff, like dietary changes, exercise habits, maybe listening to music or meditation etc. I found it very interesting.

I’ve gotten a list of professionals to see here in college now that I’m off vacation. They say it would be good for me to continue seeing people.

When I told one of my friends what the diagnosis was, he replied with something I didn’t expect anyone to:

Were you at all surprised by those results?

He didn’t say it in a sarcastic or mean way, but he was genuinely curious. And to be honest, no, I wasn’t. I mean, I can take a hint. Ever since I was 12 school counselors and teachers have been telling my parents to send me to get professional help, and all this time not seeing one, I’ve just been assuming that something was horribly wrong with me.

Hearing the therapist say I was clinically depressed was almost exciting. It almost justified all those years of crying all night and all those panic attacks and all those terrors.

Hopefully now that I’m finally seeing someone, I can begin the path to recovery.

Suicidal thoughts more likely with anxiety than depression, new report says.

Dr Nicholas Jenner

A new study reports that people suffering from anxiety and panic attacks are more likely to have suicidal thoughts than those suffering from depression. The relationship between anxiety and suicide risk has long been debated, but now a number of papers in a special issue of Depression and Anxiety aim to settle the controversy by demonstrating that anxiety posed a greater suicide risk than depression. Part of the report stated :

“In the first study, Dr. Phillip Batterham examined 7,485 adults and found that suicidal thoughts were more strongly predicted by incident symptoms of anxiety than depression.

Zimri Yaseen examined 2,864 individuals with depression in a national U.S. sample and found that panic attacks associated with a specific catastrophic fear of dying predicted subsequent suicide attempts.

Amrit Kanwar co-authors the final study; the first meta-analysis of the role of anxiety disorders in suicide. Dr. Kanham reviewed 42 studies covering a total of 309,974 adults and conclusively showed…

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Only A Highway

First of all, happy 2014 everyone! May your year be full of love and happiness and success!

Third day of the new year and I’m already pissed off, so here we go.

New Year’s eve was an interesting life experience. I drank-drank for the first time with my cousins and my best friend. It was awful. My cousins are stupid and mean drunks, and my best friend just got loopy. I drank maybe half a glass of champagne, and it was disgusting. It burnt my throat and it didn’t taste like strawberries at all (as the label suggested it would). I had a screwdriver, which was apparently orange juice and a shit ton of vodka. I took maybe 3 sips of that before I determined that it was disgusting. Then I had half a cranberry vodka, which was my favorite of them all but just the fact that it had alcohol in it I stopped after half a glass. I had a horrible headache, and I can’t see any appeal in drinking whatsoever. My family always makes getting drunk sound fun, but I find no appeal in getting dizzy with a headache.

The alcohol wasn’t the main cause for my distress on New Year’s. It was my cousins. They go to a big party school, so they drink compulsively. They spent practically the whole night drinking, and they even drove home with none of the adults stopping them. They take drinking very seriously. When I took a sip of champagne, I made a disgusted face — because it was disgusting — and one of them goes, “Well if you’re done judging us now just hand it over if you don’t like it” and he took the glass from me and proceeded to drink half of it and pass it around among his friends. He said it in a very harsh and judgmental way towards me.

See, my cousins know that I don’t like to drink, and I feel as if they think less of me for it. I don’t judge them for being heavy drinkers. Like, to each their own. As long as they’re not hurting anyone then whatever. But they were judging me all night just because I don’t like alcohol and they kept calling me a party pooper and told me to get out. A relationship of understanding is a two-way street, not a bike path and a highway. With my cousins, it seems to just be the alcoholic express.

My second major cause for distress this year (and we’re only on day 3, oh boy) is my sexist parents.

So I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost 3 years now (today is our 34 months woohoo). Yet every time he comes over, all I get from my parents are




They even get mad over prolonged hugging!

Okay, so I’ve been taking that shit for nearly 3 years, but that’s not my cause for indignation today. I’m upset because my younger brother got a girlfriend, and my parents have only met her once. This morning my mom comes to me and she goes, “Hey, come to the mall tonight with me and your dad. Your brother’s girlfriend is coming over tonight so they can have some privacy on their date.”

Well, I’m sure as fuck not going to the mall with them. I’m furious. I feel as though they hate my boyfriend who has been nothing but kind and good to me for 3 years, yet they already like my brother’s girlfriend that they’ve only met fucking one time.

When I first started dating my boyfriend 3 years ago, I called my parents out on being overprotective purely because I’m a girl. They assured me that they would be the same way when my brother had a girlfriend, and now I know that that was all shit. Not that I ever thought they meant it of course.

I talked to my cousin about this, and here is his argument, which I will systematically refute:

  1. “Maybe it’s because you can get pregnant and he can’t?” That may be true, but just because he can’t get pregnant doesn’t mean he can’t impregnate. How is impregnating less worse than getting pregnant?
  2. “Maybe they just like her more than they like your boyfriend?” Well that’s fucking rude. All they know about her is that she watches Korean dramas and that she’s in a club with my brother. They’ve only met her FUCKING ONCE, why is she already better than my boyfriend, who has been good to me for 3 years?
  3. “Maybe it’s just plain because they don’t like your boyfriend because they envisioned you with someone better?” Well my boyfriend is kind, doting on me, an engineer major, great with kids. What else could they have envisioned? Oh wait, I forgot, he’s fucking white and my parents are racist as shit. Do you think that plays a key factor?
  4. “They’re probably just being sexist.” DING DING DING WE HAVE A WINNER.

I don’t care if they like her more. I don’t care if my brother can’t get pregnant. I don’t care about anything else, I don’t give a shit. But, in my eyes, there is NOTHING in old-fashioned beliefs that could possibly excuse leaving a boy and a girl alone together in a house and night time. Do my parents think her parents would like that?

Fuck this.

I’m so tired of this argument.

They say that when I’m older I’ll understand. They say if I have a daughter, I’ll understand why they do this to me.

No, I fucking won’t.

My daughter has a boyfriend? If he treats her right and makes her happy, fan-fucking-tastic.
They want to have sex? Well, baby, let me teach you about safe sex and ask you if you’re really sure about this. If you think so, then mommy will even go out and get you birth control.

My son has a girlfriend? If she treats him right and makes him happy, cool.
They want to have sex? Son, you better treat her like a princess because that shit is gonna fucking hurt you hear me you treat her like a goddess. You want condoms? Daddy will run to the store and buy some on his way home from work.

Why does my brother deserve more respect and understanding and patience from my parents just because he has a penis?