Change Needs More Than Slacktivism

Bell Let's Talk Day. Since 2010, the campaign has committed more than $100 million to mental health initiatives across Canada. In the past 6 years, initiatives such as this and Mental Health Awareness week has definitely helped to make gains in the fight against stigma. We are more educated and more aware than ever before.

But despite the gains that we have made, let's not pat ourselves on the back just yet.

Last year on this day, I discussed how an initiative such as Let's Talk Day .very important to me. Social media is a great thing in that, when used positively, it can helped to spread awareness at the touch of a finger. The better part is the fact that with every tweet or call made on the Bell network on this day, 5 cents will be donated to various mental health initiatives. This makes it easy for anyone to get behind an incredible cost with minimal cost to themselves.

At the same time, something like this makes it easy for anyone to get behind the same cost with minimal effort.

Enter: slactivism.

(Oh no, Ryan Gosling doesn't like slacktivism. From Giphy.) 

                                   
20 years ago, before social media even existed and the Internet was a figment of our imaginations, activism took the form of sit ins, rallies, lobbying, petitioning and protests. There were people that were devoted to a cause - women's rights, environmentalism, ending youth violence - and these people made it part of their life to fight for these causes.

The advent of hashtags and sharing articles on Facebook, it has become incredibly easy to learn about something, become temporarily moved or enraged, and then move on. In the sea of social media, it is sometimes difficult to differentiate between those that actually care and those that are just jumping onto the bandwagon. Hashtags like #BlackLivesMatter during the wake of police brutalities and shootings against African Americans in the United States and #JeSuisCharlie after the horrific shootings at the Charlie Hebdo offices in France brought major world incidents to life in an instantaneous fashion. Suddenly the entire world was able to connect and humanity was able to mourn together.

But simply hashtagging a cause 'just because' doesn't really do anything substantial. Even in a case like Bell Let's Talk, I know for a fact that my Twitter timeline will be flooded with #BellLetsTalk - I myself will be tweeting any chance I get. I'm not saying that what we are doing is wrong, but we need to remember that all of these causes extend just beyond the day itself. Activism and awareness should not just be a one day thing, it should be everyday.

A similar example comes with Pink Shirt Day and the quest to eliminate bullying from schools and workplaces. The students behind Pink Shirt Day were inspired to create this initiative in response to bullying that they saw against a male student who was wearing a pink shirt. Since its beginnings in 2007, Pink Shirt Day has been supported every year to raise awareness.

(Source)

The idea is a great one, and the cause is one that is so important, especially since bullying is such a prevalent issue in our schools and workplaces. But wearing a pink shirt for a day isn't going to solve anything in the long run, and neither is tweeting the hell out of a hashtag. Because if people fall back into their old ways after all the fanfare is over, then we are back to square one with nothing achieved. And unfortunately, this kind of behaviour happens more often than we'd like to think.

I'm not saying that we should boycott these initiatives. Obviously initiatives need to start somewhere, and this is how we get the discussions going.  We need to bring this dialogue into our homes, classrooms, and office spaces. It isn't enough to have an anti-bullying day - we need to have anti-bullying everyday.

"Activism and awareness should not just be a one day thing, it should be everyday."

We need to teach our students that every child has worth and value, regardless of ethnicity, religion, gender or socioeconomic status. We need to teach empathy and acceptance of their classmates, and themselves. We need to educate our students on the important issues of the day and about the world in which they live in - a world where violence and indifference does exist. We need to inspire these students that this violence and indifference doesn't have to exist if we take a stand together. That these students could be a generation where real change can happen.

But if we just resort to our little universes and strive after #squadgoals and just tweet things just to show other people that we actually care about current affairs, then our society will just plateau and go nowhere.

This year's Bell Let's Talk Day is on Wednesday, January 27. Definitely take part in the cause, because it's a great one. But also remember what the purpose is, what the discussions are surrounding the cause, and consider doing some research or engaging in open dialogue with others on the topic if you find passion in it. And it doesn't have to be mental health or bullying - whatever you care about and find passion in, I encourage you to learn more about it, see the different sides of the argument and see what you can do to help advance the cause.

Change needs more than slacktivism. Real change comes when we all come together and engage.

Let's change the world!

x R

Ignorance Makes You Look Bad

Amidst all the rain we had lately, we experienced a gorgeous day today!

I honestly can't stand the rain. It's so wet and soggy and it just gets everywhere: your shoes, your clothes, your hair, your eyes.. it's so disgusting. I question those that say that rain has a romantic element to it.

But what I find even more disgusting are people that are rude, ignorant, quick to judge, and racist. I'm pretty sure I'm living in the 21st century, but the attitudes and ignorance that I have come across really makes me question our progressiveness and whether or not I am stuck a couple centuries back.

Here is another transit tale for you.

I have had the worst sleep schedule ever since school started. Added to this is my annoying back pain (which may have been worsened by my accident) that keeps me up at night. So in essence, I get really sleepy, and transit is probably one of the best places to sleep. Although I am just realizing now that it may be really unsafe to do so. But I digress.

When I got on at Scott Road, I sat next to a guy who looked to be in his mid 20s, so a few years older than me. I couldn't really tell what ethnicity he was because he was slumped against the window, sleeping. I shrugged it off and took my seat. With the slow rocking of the Skytrain I began to feel myself drifting off to sleep, which was much appreciated since I couldn't sleep the night before.

So I fell asleep.

I wasn't entirely unconscious. I was just asleep enough to feel like my batteries were recharging, but conscious enough to hear everything that was going on around me, including the looming voice that listed off every stop. I kept an ear open for my stop, because it had happened before where I had missed my stop due to my slumber.

About halfway into my journey I could hear shuffling feet come up behind me and beside me. In a language that I could somewhat pick apart, I heard a woman speak to someone else. Without opening my eyes I could already see what was probably happening in front of me: this woman was probably helping an elderly person into the seat in front of me. No big deal, so I shrugged it off again and continued on in my sleep

(Same. http://hilariousgifs.com)

But then came the interesting part.

The woman changed her language from what I realized then was Mandarin (which I can barely understand) to Cantonese (which I can understand pretty well). And what I heard (loosely translated) shocked me.

"Those ______________. So lazy. Doesn't even get up to let the elderly sit. Sleeping and being useless. So lazy."

I slowly opened my eyes to see who was speaking. There before me stood a Chinese woman and her daughter, and the elderly couple that was sitting in the seats in front of me. Next to me, I saw that the sleeping guy was now awake, and clearly seething.

At this point I should tell you that the blank refers to an ethnicity that the (ever so ignorant) Chinese woman used. I don't want to use it because hearing it made me feel super uncomfortable. But clearly, she had (sadly) mistaken me and the other guy for another ethnicity.

The guy looked at me and asked if I was the said ethnicity, and I asked him the same thing. It turned out that he was Chinese too, but he had been asked a number of times. It was a question, he said, that didn't faze him anymore.

He went on to tell me that his girlfriend was at home with his 3 year old son and infant daughter. He was working two jobs to make ends meet, and he was going to work a nighttime shift. He wouldn't be home again until Sunday afternoon. Sheepishly, I didn't any good reason to be passed out, but he laughed and said that at least I wasn't the one going around making ignorant comments.

As we approached Commercial-Broadway, he got up and walked over to the woman and said to her everything that he told me, in perfect Cantonese. He concluded by saying to her in English, "Don't judge a book by it's cover. Don't be so judgmental."

With a stunned look, she looked over at me. I got off at the next stop and didn't really have anything to say to her, so I just smiled.

(k bye!!! http://ladyclever.com/culture/marriage-equality-now-in-all-50-states-as-told-by-gifs/attachment/bye-bye-gif/)

                         

This entire situation made me cringe. As ignorant as she was, this doesn't even begin to count as a serious case of racism. But then again, should we even let it get to be so serious?

This woman made an offensive statement using a stereotype that she may have encountered or heard. It made it explicitly clear to me that she has a very narrow view of the world and is really set in her ways. But this kind of attitude is the type of attitude that can perpetuate into larger issues of hate and racism if ignored.

Every person's situation is unique and everyone is different. What may be the norm for certain groups in society may not always translate to every single member.

I can assure you that when I am awake, I am a good citizen in that when there is an elderly person on a full bus, I will give them my seat. But on an empty Skytrain? Those words weren't warranted. They are never warranted. I'm not using the empty Skytrain to justify the fact that I didn't get up, but regardless of situation, words like those that are hateful and directed against a certain ethnic group are just uncalled for. And for the record, some of these people happen to include some of the hardest workers that I know.

Yes, this is a society in which free speech is the epitome of your democracy and right. So let's be real here: you can totally say whatever the hell you want, and some people will just nod and smile. But at the end of the day, ignorance makes you look bad.

And that's all.

(I love Mindy Lahiri. http://www.collegehumor.com/post/6888857/15-gifs-that-drop-the-mic-and-are-out)

                   

Until next time,

x R

Rachel Reacts: Bacon (And Other Things)

A lot has happened since I last reacted - so let's get right into it:

1/ ... Bacon, Ham, Red Meat and the WHO

(giphy.com)

             
Not The Who like the band, I mean the World Health Organization (WHO, you ask?)
Aside from that terrible pun, the WHO came out with a report in late October that crushed the lives of millions and millions that love meat of all kinds, particularly that of processed nature. So any kind of bacon, deli meat, and even red meats are now said to be linked to a higher risk to having cancer. Some reports went way into the deep end by drawing the parallel that eating processed meat is just as harmful as tobacco and asbestos. Rest assured, the WHO shot down that claim. However, it is still a wake up call to the rest of us to stop eating these meats on a regular basis so as to control our future risk of cancer.
But here's the thing: when my Facebook and Twitter lit up that night with bacon filled posts, a part of me was not convinced at all. Yes, the WHO has extensive research to conclude that processed meats are now classified as a carcinogen (group 1). But previous research has said similar things, albeit not to the extent that processed meat could cause cancer. We already know that high and regular consumption of processed meat can lead to conditions like obesity and heart disease, which is why you don't eat bacon every day. But if you really can't help it, then exercise and balance it out with a lot of fruits and vegetables. This will only remain an issue if you let it. So get up and exercise, and try something new, like chicken.

2/ ... Essena O'Neill

(http://www.manrepeller.com/minor_cogitations/essena-oneill-quit-social-media.html)

My most recent blog post was inspired by Essena! Just a quick recap: This 18 year old girl from Australia had built for herself a massive internet empire with large followings on Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr and Snapchat. She had gotten so famous that she began to receive sponsorship from various companies to pose with their products. But recently she revealed that all of this fame and having what many of her followers dubbed as "the perfect life" did not make her happy - in fact, it was quite the opposite. Because of this, she "quit" social media cold turkey (a carcinogen?) - She deleted her Tumblr account and discontinued posting videos, as well as deleting over 2000 pictures from her Instagram feed and changed the captions of many to reflect the true meaning behind the "perfect" snap. She says that despite being looked up to and being worshiped by thousands of girls, she knew that this was all a facade and incredibly misleading. I applaud Essena's bravery and wish for authenticity. So many times do we find ourselves trying to project a certain image of ourselves onto social media, just so that we can come across as happy. But our true happiness is not determined by a number of followers or likes. Being content - truly content - requires humility and respect for ourselves. We should be incredibly thankful with what we do have instead of focusing on what we don't have.

3/ ... Gender balanced Cabinet

("Because it's 2015" will probably go down in history. - http://www.themarysue.com/justin-trudeau-cabinet/)

 After being sworn in on November 4th, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau revealed his new Cabinet. His cabinet has been dubbed "gender balanced", "progressive" and "accepting" of various minorities. A quick breakdown of the cabinet includes 15 women out of the 31 cabinet members, 2 Indigenous ministers, 3 ministers with disabilities, a mix of rookie and veteran ministers, and regional representation across the board. This is definitely a step in the positive direction for diversity, inclusion and equality for all, especially in the area of government decision making. I think that it's great that we have such a diverse cabinet (with an equal proportion of women to men!) as well as many ministers that have different backgrounds outside of politics. It will be interesting to see where this takes our country in the future. And his reaction when asked why he aimed for such diversity in his cabinet? Classic.

That's all for now! Stay rad :)

Until next time,

x R

How One Guy Changed My World

"Don't let love change you, let it help you to grow and change from the growth." 

I heard that somewhere before, and it always resonated with me. Now for the life of me, I can't remember where I got it from. However, I never really understood it until I met one boy that changed me - literally.

I grew up with a bit of an inferiority complex, that most likely came about from childhood bullying. This inferiority complex left me anxious, confused, and always seeking approval. At the same time, I always wanted attention. Because of this "approval seeking", in essence I was always changing myself so that I could blend in. I could be part of the "in crowd" and be what everyone else wanted me to be.

This led me through a maze of phases: label conscious, angry rebel goth, someone who didn't have a care in the world and someone who didn't give a damn about the world. I was changing, but I wasn't growing. This all culminated in disrespect for myself.

Enter Daniel*.

At 17 my life was split down the middle. I was stuck between being comfortable in my own skin and craving attention and change. I was angry, but I didn't know why. But all this changed when Daniel stepped into my life.

I met Daniel in the summer time, and yes, I give you full permission to roll your eyes at this "summer fling", because quite simply, that is what Daniel and I had. But of course, at 17 you don't think about those things. You see beyond the imperfections and the impracticalities. 

I thought that Daniel was perfect, and I thought that he and I were invincible.

Just two weeks into our relationship we already planned out how our senior year was going to work since we didn't go to the same school. He would get his license first and come to see me, and once I got mine, we could go to all the places we wanted to go to, splitting the drives.

Daniel, at first, made me feel special. All this inferiority complex stuff? It didn't exist when I was with him. He put me first, he took care of me, and best of all, he told me every night that he loved me. 

At least, I thought he did.

Of course, hindsight is 20/20 and I see now that I was left with a false sense of security when I was around him. Thinking that my inferiority complex was gone was actually false - it was actually worse than it ever was.

Daniel changed me, beginning with my friends. As our relationship began to progress, our activities went from large groups to small groups, and from small groups to even smaller groups, to the point where we were alone most of the time. And being alone wasn't really the issue - in fact, I enjoyed the privacy from time to time. But the fact that he wanted to be alone with me - and only me - at all times was suffocating at times. When I wanted to hang out with other people, he would question my fidelity. If I was tired, he would ask whether or not I really loved him.

So I followed, and the inferiority complex followed close behind. I wanted his approval. I had his "love", and I wanted his approval even more.

But what I failed to see was his double standard - when he wanted to do something with his friends and I complained, he called me whiny, When he was tired and I asked, he called me needy.

Even with these inconsistencies, I listened and followed. And this continued even as his character changed further, to the point where I made a 180 turn. I changed and changed until Daniel showed his ugly side.

(giphy.com)

         
Daniel loved to drink and party. Drinking led to getting drunk, and getting drunk left Daniel emboldened to experiment new things. He would try his luck at touching me, making moves and getting me to drink. Worst of all, he tried to make me have sex with him.

For the first time, I said no to him. Saying no to him, in the long run, was the best thing that I could ever do. However, at the time, it was a nightmare.

Daniel clearly did not like the word no. In fact, he probably never heard that word before. But saying no to him and standing up to him made him upset, so upset to the point that he had begun to hurt me, physically and emotionally. He called me unfaithful, useless, and unloving. And even worse was the fact that I let this happen. We got into the vicious cycle of fighting, taking breaks and getting back together again, never really discussing our differences, or what hurt me the most, or our expectations. We continued to sweep things under the rug, pretending like nothing happened after we kissed and made up (literally). But the ugly pile of discrepancies continued to pile and pile until one day, he had enough with his pathetic girlfriend.

He told me that he started dating me because he wanted something more in a relationship that his previous girlfriend didn't give him. He wanted physicality. He wanted sex. And at that moment, I realized that we had nothing in common other than the fact that we breathed the same air and we were both right handed.

All of the commonalities that I thought we had were suddenly forced and non-existent. It was reminiscent to the times when I feel desperate to come up with things in common in a Venn diagram at school: I can bullshit all I want, but at the end of the day, my grade will still be mediocre. But somehow, in my mind, none of that mattered until he outright told me what he wanted. And that was something that I never asked for, partially because I wanted to give him benefit of the doubt, but also because I was afraid. I was afraid that he was going to pass me by once I told him what I wanted and what I valued.

Shortly after, he broke up with me, citing "irreconcilable differences" and the fact that I wasn't "fulfilling the physical needs of a relationship". Sad but true, and despite the fact that I knew that he was bad for me, I was hurt beyond belief. I missed him, but at the same time, At the time I hated him for changing me, but even more, I hated myself for falling in love with him.

(giphy.com)

               
I tell this story not for pity or for everyone to help me gang up and find Daniel so that I can beat him up. Daniel is a part of my past, and while unfortunate, has taught me something incredible valuable.

It took me a long time (about 18 months, to be honest), to forgive him. It took me just as long to forgive myself and learn that I, along with everyone else (even Daniel) deserves a person that will love you for who you are. And at the same time, people will naturally change - we all need to find a person that will not only change with us, but grow with us. Someone who facilitates our growth, and not hindering it.

Love is all about growing with one another, embracing the change and helping the other person become the best person that they can be. Stay true to yourself and know who you are first. Realize that change is healthy, but if someone is forcing you to do something that you aren't comfortable with or someone that you are not, then that person does not truly love you.

It may feel like the end of the world when you part ways with someone, but know that standing up for yourself will help you in the long run.

To this day, Daniel and I have never talked and I don't intend on ever doing so. But I thank him for helping me learn (the hard way) about how love is blind, but true love waits.

And I hope you remember that too - you are valuable and deserve the best in the world. Never settle for anything less, and never let people (or things) change you into someone that you are not.

x R

*Name changed

Silently Judging You (Coming Clean pt. 2)

Judgement: it's everywhere. And believe me, we are all doing it. You're even doing it right now while you're reading this.

According to clinical psychologist Linda Blair, on average it takes about seven seconds to judge a person after we meet them. This is even before a firm handshake. It is literally one glance, up and down, and you can make your own assumptions about the person.

Case to point - if you were to see someone dressed a little simpler with ripped and tattered clothing and an overall disheveled appearance on the Skytrain, you probably would be heading to another spot ASAP. 

I can't condemn other people for judging, because I know that I do it too. It's something that we don't think about because it just happens. Everyday we make little judgments that lead to poor assumptions and misconstrued beliefs. 

I bring up this point because it somewhat ties into my most recent post about coming clean. I came to realization that the judging that we do on a regular basis in turn makes us self-aware and self-conscious about what other people thing of us. How are other people judging me? What would they say or think if I wore this outfit, did my make up in a certain way, ate a certain amount of food or drank a certain beverage?

Coming clean, as I found, was a lot simpler in writing than in reality. Having my story out there enabled people to read what they wanted to, interpret it how they wanted to, and ask questions. Telling people was a whole other story.

To best explain, my plan was in two parts: one, to just get it out there for people to read at their leisure, but also to physically have conversations with people that I have known for a long time and who deserve to know. Not because I want sympathy of any kind (because I don't), but because I want my friends to know who I am. I want to be able to be truthful and explain the inconsistencies that they may have found in my life without any further lies or stories. I wanted them to know the truth, the whole truth, no matter how ugly it was.

By doing this, I was able to break down a judgement barrier for myself. I have gotten to a stage in life where, despite the occasional feelings of insecurity about my physical appearance, I feel good about myself, physically and emotionally. While the journey was not ideal or perfect it has taught me great things about myself. At this point, I know that my depression doesn't make me less of a person, less of a human, and less of a child of God.

Last night, I began my odyssey into coming clean, beginning with one of my closest friends. We met in kindergarten and have been friends ever since. This year will be going on 14 years of friendship, and yet we never had a evening just for us.

I always found it difficult to share my story with others, but I think it is especially difficult for friends that are so close to me. As I began to tell her the story, I prefaced it by saying that, "I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want to lose you when I was already losing everyone else."

The story slowly tumbled out, and after my sharing was done, she told me that it gave her the courage to tell her own story, prefacing it also by saying that she didn't want to tell me because she didn't know how I would feel. She didn't know if I would judge her, and she didn't want me to be disappointed in her.

Why are we always so scared with letting our true colours show and letting people see who we really are? Our society tells us to make flawless first impressions with the people we meet. We are expected to come across as perfect in the eyes of strangers.

But the truth of the matter is, I AM NOT PERFECT. I have my moments, my flaws and my insecurities. This is true for all humans, and yet we still break each other down with judgement and negativity. 

My fear of judgement was the reason why I didn't get help sooner, and I truly feel that judgement is preventing others from speaking out and getting the help that they need.

I know I can't stop other people from judging, but I know that I can think twice before I make a generalized and uneducated comment about someone else. Everyone is facing a different and unique battle - one that we may not be able to comprehend or understand. Because of that, we need to be more sympathetic and aware of the situation of others.

And to you, all of you: remember how special and lovely you are. Be confident and take heart.

x R 

No More Pretending: Coming Clean

It's been a while since I have been here, and I do apologize profusely for neglecting you, my blog! With all the changes that has been happening in my life, it's been hard to keep up. My journal entries have been backed up for weeks on end and I always find myself writing for weeks in between to catch up.

Recently deep within me, I have felt a strong sense of untruthfulness. This is not to say that I have been lying through my day to day life per se, but in many ways, I suppose it could be said that I have. I feel that I have been communicating poorly, acting in surprising ways and therefore confusing others and myself. It was not until  I wrote a recent post for Speak Out Blog and a personal hurdle that I decided that I needed to come clean.

In short, I know that I am blessed with good things. I have a family that loves me, good financial and educational situation, friends that care for me and an inkling of a future life. However, being a human that has very human desires, I am bound to fall short and make mistakes. I always want more of myself and the world, and sometimes with my shortcomings I am merciless towards myself.

As a kid, I loved the concept of pretending. You could be who you wanted to be without any pretenses or fears of exposure. As I grew older, I continued to use pretend at great lengths wherever necessary so as to keep my true self from showing.
              

But who was my true self? During high school, I didn't know for sure. I went through careless relationships, pushed away true friends and held onto people and things that didn't care for me. High school, while it was a magical and unique time, it was also a difficult time for me.

My true self was always someone that I wanted to prevent the world from knowing - and who could blame me, considering that I know of my true self as somewhat of a Debbie Downer. I didn't like who I was. I was dissatisfied, jealous and felt so worthless. I went through phases of the D word - depression. I was anxious and angry.

The world, as I knew, didn't want another angry and moody teenager, though sometimes my alter ego slipped through my fingers. People told me to suck it up, buttercup - and I did. I held everything inside of me, pressure building until it couldn't hold it in any longer. And when I got angry, people knew. But they didn't know why.

I spent my evenings planning my own demise. What would it feel like to disappear? What would people think, say, or do? How much pain would I feel? All these thoughts began to put a damper on my alter ego, my sunnier ego, and suddenly the two mixed into one and I had no control over the two.

It wasn't until I was ordered by a teacher to go see a counselor that I even began to think that I had an issue. Of course, I didn't go down with a fight. The mere thought of setting foot into that office left a bad feeling inside of me. All my life I had had people whispering behind my back, and I knew that going to see a counselor would make the whispers grow louder behind me.

Unsurprisingly, the help from counselling was what I needed to begin my turn around. My panic attacks began to subside, I felt less angry and more self-confident. I didn't have to pretend that I was happy anymore - I was happy, through and through. It would be unrealistic to say that my 180 came over night - it was a process, and I needed to put a lot of effort into it.

So why share all of this?

I wanted to bring to light one big lesson that I learned throughout my journey. As mentioned before, society, as forward as it may be, seems to still have a hazy cloud around the whole mental illness thing, be it that we don't understand it, we don't get it, or worse, we don't want to acknowledge it. True, medicine has advanced so much that we now have a label for every last disorder and illness, but that doesn't mean that we truly understand it. The stigma that surrounds mental illness is still a big one, and I hope that in time to come, this stigma will diminish with more education and dialogue.

I am not telling us to WebMD ourselves and diagnose every feeling that we have to educate ourselves - that is not closing the door on the stigma. But I hope that people can become more open and more ready to be available to those in need. Why should there be a stigma that going to a counselor makes you a "weirdo"? Why should we be afraid of saying "no, I'm not okay" and explaining why when people ask?

Clearly I am not a doctor or any sort of field expert on the issue.  I am passionate about erasing the stigma of mental illness in our society. I am passionate about helping others get through their hurdles in life, regardless of shape or form. I want you to know that if you are feeling this way, that it is not just a you thing that you have to figure out on your own. There is help everywhere around you - we all need to be open to talk to others, but we also need to be open to accept others as well.

Despite the occasional feelings of high anxiety, stress and panic attacks, I have felt a significant improvement in my life. I couldn't have done it without the support of many - my only regret is not finding help sooner.

Ignorance and fear should not be the norm. We need to stand tall and firm in the face of it and become more aware of it. Through this solidarity, the stigma will diminish.

x R

A Man, A Boy, and Paddy Cake

I met the most wonderful guy on the bus the other day.

This isn't a prospective cute guy for myself; after all, he was with his adorable two year old son.

This morning it was pretty gloomy. It was raining after a stretch of pure sunshine, and I didn't have an umbrella. I'm waiting for the bus at about 7:30, frustrated that I had missed an earlier bus and at the fact that I had no umbrella to shield me from the rain. Suddenly this man walked up, wearing a short sleeved shirt and shorts, pushing a stroller with a bouncing blonde boy sitting in it.

It was impossible, even in my bad mood, to ignore the smiling boy. What drew me in even more was the adoring look on his face, and the infectious smile that the boy had.

The dad was playing a video on his iPhone, and the familiar strains of "patty cake" began to play over and over. As the song began to play, the dad began to sing along, with his son attempting to catch up with him. On a gloomy day, this was a shot of sunshine in my life.

I began talking to this dad, asking him about where he was taking his son at such an hour. His son had more energy than any person on the bus at that time, and despite the dad's energetic and happy demeanor, there was a look of tiredness in his eyes.

Giving his phone to his son, the dad turned to me and said that he was dropping his son off at daycare before he went to Surrey Memorial Hospital. After asking if he was a doctor, he laughed and shook his head no.

He began to tell me about how he was a single father, taking care of this boy. In an ultrasound before the birth of his son, the doctors warned them that the boy may be born with serious birth defects, and were given the opportunity to abort. That was the make or break of our relationship, he told me. I wanted to keep him, but my fiancee wanted to abort. 

Shortly after the baby was born,  healthy and normal, she still broke up with him, leaving him to raise this baby boy on his own. 6 months later, he said, he was diagnosed with cancer. He had his ups and down with the treatment, and despite his remission after his son's first birthday, his cancer returned and spread violently. At the moment, he was going to Surrey Memorial for a chemotherapy treatment. I didn't want to pry and ask what his current situation was, but noting the look in my eyes, he quietly told me that he had Stage 4 terminal cancer. He had been given one and a half to two years to live. Despite all this, he would take his son every day to day care before he went for treatment or running household errands. He would get up every morning at 5, warm his son's bottle and food, pack his son's bag (with his son's favorite yellow sweater inside), wake his son up at 6 and got him ready to catch the bus at 7:16 AM. And on the bus every day, they would watch the same video and play paddy cake.

He did that every single day.

In my silence, I reflected on my shock. All I could think of was his son - barely two year old - and what could happen to him. I thought about the dad himself, how difficult this must be for him to raise his son and potentially not be there for his son anymore.

In those moments, words don't even begin to cover the feelings or sentiments that can convey your sympathy. His quiet words, after a beat, said it all: "Am I angry? Yeah. I won't be able to coach my son on the sidelines, teach him the alphabet, help him drive and get him a girlfriend. But that doesn't mean that my whole life stops because I'm angry... he needs me. And all I can do for him is give him all of me before I don't exist."

After he said this, his stop had arrived. Slowly getting up, he pushed his son's stroller towards the door, telling him to say goodbye to me. As they got off the bus, an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me.

Life, as I have seen, is so unpredictable. Even the most mundane tasks and routine can be taken for granted. I began to realize how discontent I have become with my 6 AM radio wake up calls, 10 minutes spent in front of an open closet and the same breakfast foods. I have become resentful of the same dinners, the same pathways to the bus and the usual ways I waste my time.

This man taught me that even something so repetitive can be an experience. I could tell that he was afraid of what was to come, but at the same time, he showed no weakness. He cherished every day and every action with his son, every last one of them, no matter how small or annoying. 

If this man could be so joyful and cheerful in the face of disease and turmoil, then I, a person in good health and good life, should be even more joyful. Yet, this man has shown me that life is short and unpredictable. There is no time to be resentful, upset or angry at small things. After all, the more time we spend being angry or holding grudges, the less time we have to enjoy the beauty and company of people and things around us.

Enjoy your life, every last bit of it. I thank this gentleman for reminding me of an obvious and yet profound truth - thank you, thank you, thank you.

x R

Let's Talk... About Mental Illness

Today is an important day for me.

Over the past couple weeks, bus stops, billboards, newspapers and the Internet have sported the hashtag #BellLetsTalk, with notable personalities such as Olympian Clara Hughes, comedian and TV personality Howie Mandel and sports journalist Michael Landsberg accompanying this message. All of these personalities have dealt with their own battles with mental illness.

But what is this initiative, Let's Talk?

Currently in it's fifth year, Bell launched an initiative to end the stigma of mental illness among youth and adults, at school and in the workplace, and has to date committed $67.5 million to mental health initiatives in Canada. Through every llong distance call or text made on the Bell network, every tweet that has the hashtag #BellLetsTalk, and share of the image put on their Facebook, Bell will donate 5 cents towards these initiatives.

Last year, Bell raised nearly $5.5 million dollars for mental illness awareness.

So why does this matter? And why do I care?

And perhaps, why should you care?

Mental illness has increased in visibility over the years through news and media. And because of how media sensationalizes many things, along with our sometimes poor awareness and understanding, we are left to fear certain issues and things.

The definition of fear is "an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat".

If we "fear" mental illness, then I can see why.

Time and time again we hear about shootings of innocent lives because the person behind the gun was "mentally unstable" or suffered from Schizophrenia. We hear of bridges being closed off on both sides, creating traffic jams because emergency personnel are trying to coax a person who was about to commit suicide off of a bridge. With all this information being hurled at us left, right, and center, it really is no wonder that many of us fear mental illness and people with it.

I have mentioned in a previous post that I myself had my own battles and dealings with inner demons and wrestled with the self-acceptance of who I was and what I dealt with. I can firmly admit that as a young teenager, I did not understand the pain that I was feeling and the emotions that ripped through me. But one thing I did know was that I would not go and seek help from anyone.

Of course in retrospect, I shake my head at my 15 year old self. Help and support is the first thing that someone needs when you are bullied, when you are depressed or suicidal. Help should never be feared.

In retrospect as well, I can combine the knowledge of what I know with my previous actions. I myself had internalized within myself that if I needed to go seek help from a counselor, then therefore, I must have a mental health issue. I must be mentally ill.

I know now that this was all fear circulating within me. I could not afford to have people that I knew watch me walk into the counselor's office. I knew I would be outcast and labelled as "mentally ill". This fear is indeed an unpleasant emotion, and it built up what I knew and what I thought I knew about mental illness.

Growing up, I had instantly connected "mental illness" with autism, Down syndrome, dyslexia, and many others. Growing up and not having a full understanding of these issues, I was scared to hear people tell me to go see a counselor. I thought it confirmed that I did in fact suffer from mental illness, and having people tell me to go see a counselor validated that people saw something in me that I refused to see.

(from giphy.com)

                                 
But of course, going to counselling saved my life. And this is why I care about mental illness and the campaign that Bell has started.

As I read on Facebook this morning, "mental illness isn't as scary as we make it out to be", I firmly believe that this is true. If you Google "list of mental disorders/illnesses", the list has familiar names as well as names that have never been mentioned in media. But just because you suffer from anorexia, obsessive compulsive disorder, dyslexia, social anxiety, narcolepsy or depression, it does not dehumanize you. You are still you, and nothing less than you. You still possess the gift of yourself, something that is precious and necessary for the world.

Just like many other initiatives that raise awareness for various causes, I hope that Bell Let's Talk is even more successful than it has been in previous years and is not just a one day affair. Mental illness is a very prevalent issue among youth and adults in our society, and many times it goes unnoticed because we either do not fully comprehend it or are too afraid to start the conversation. But I want you all to know that mental illness, while it might sound terrifying and personal, needs to be brought to the forefront.

1 in 5 Canadians will experience will experience a mental health issue in their lifetime. Let's raise awareness and stand in solidarity against the stigma.

Today, for every tweet using #BellLetsTalk, Bell donates 5¢ more to #MentalHealth initiatives: http://t.co/qsyUzIANKq pic.twitter.com/Brc2eaT3Dz
— Bell Let's Talk (@Bell_LetsTalk) January 28, 2015

 I wish everyone a fantastic rest of the week and to never be afraid of showing the world who they are. Live high, live mighty, and keep spilling ink while you do.

x R