The Waves Can’t Crash Forever

The holidays. My favourite time of the year.


Used to be my favourite.

This might seem cryptic, and honestly I’m a little drunk right now, but I feel like my heart is going to explode while my lungs are gasping for air. This entry doesn’t end in a silver lining or come to a positive conclusion, but it’s real and that’s what’s important.

Here I am. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling on thanksgiving, wondering at what point everything got so fucked up. I decided since I can’t scream, punch anything, or run away for miles, I may as well write my thoughts down. This kind of thing scares me, because I want to write down everything I’m feeling. But at the same time I don’t want everyone to know exactly everything that’s going on. But at the same time I feel it’s important for other people to read these kinds of entries to know they’re not alone, maybe I should just invest in a journal I don’t know.

If you want some imagery to go with your reading. Im in the middle of a panic attack. Chest is tight, heart is racing, lungs feel defective.

Side note: you know what’s so great about animals? They sense your fear and sadness. Like look at what happened like seriously 45 seconds ago


If you read my previous post you got the jist of my life as of late. But to be honest, 1 hour after I posted that piece, feeling refreshed, I got the call that things just got so much worse. 

Cue: tight Chest, racing heart, crapped out lungs

Tonight. Thanksgiving. The literal day of thanks. Things are worse again and I’m stuck with nowhere to escape to. I don’t know normal anymore to be honest. I go to kelowna, either pretending nothing is wrong, not absorbing what anyone says to me (profs included) all day, or ignoring reality and not leaving my bed. It hurts sometimes when people think I’m being rude or a bitch that day, but honestly I can’t be bothered to impress anyone. 

(If you’re my pal, please be gentle and kind with me)

I have good days and bad days. And honestly I’m finding it harder to cope. And now with 2 huge midterms this week, I have to drive home to kelowna tomorrow and not have the strength to leave my bed let alone study. People have told me for years that writing in a journal is good for you. And until 6 months ago I was always Like, what would I write about? “Hey journal, my eggs were pretty good this morning. That is all”

But I get it now. I have a hard time expressing what I’m feeling. When something triggers me into an anxiety attack, I run to my bed or the bathroom and breathe until I’m okay to face people again. Which is what happened tonight, and even though this post isn’t making a whole lot of sense, it’s helping. I stared and traced my wave tattoo with my finger for a while, since it was events like these that drove me to get it in the first place. Closing my eyes and imagining a crashing ocean coming to a calm… it helps.

 Until next time.


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