mental health

Obsessive Kompulsion: Pop Goes the Weasel

Sometime within the past week, I got derailed. On Sunday evening, I felt an overwhelming desire to crumple into my roommate’s futon and devolve into a hot mess of tears. In the time since then, I’ve had an overwhelming sense of sadness — not overwhelming in that I don’t feel happy, but in the sense that even when I have high highs, like seeing Mae Jemison, being accepted into Sophomore College and finalizing housing preferences for next year with my wonderful “drawmies,” I return to this low state of emptiness and confusion.

May 6 | Comments (0)

Op-Ed: Leaving My Feathers Behind — My Struggle as a Stanford Swan

I remember the day my feet stopped paddling. It was fall of my freshman year and I was drowning. After 18 years of swimming towards a destination that was suppose to make me happy but really just left me wanting more, I stopped. I could no longer pretend to be perfect. Behind my perfect grades, smile and “white” feathers, I was perfectly unhappy. I had lost all joy in college life. I felt like I had nothing left to give.

Apr 14 | Comments (0)

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