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Embracing Sadness with Open Arms (Part One)

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at York U chapter.

A while ago, I had hit rock bottom.

Unbearable, stifling and nauseating: kind of like drowning in a humid summer’s day.

I could not bear it anymore – I was struggling with a lot of personal issues at the time and everything seemed to be rooting against me.

It all began during the summer, I had a lot of coursework and time was escaping from my fingers like water. It seemed I had given up all of my free time for the sake of my GPA and I had had enough. I hadn’t seen the light of day in weeks (#basementapartmentlife) and I was weary of reading and writing and typing.

By the time September rolled around, I was fed-up to the core of school and just wanted some down time where I didn’t have to think or do anything. I didn’t get the time-off I needed and so my first few weeks of class were a disaster; I couldn’t pay attention or even make sense of what my Professors were explaining. At the same time, I was being given a really hard time about my weight and my looks by countless people. It was all getting too much.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I was sat with some friends and we were all sharing some snacks when one of these friends make a jokey comment about me being offered the last piece because I seem to “eat a little too much” and others should eat first. My eyes pricked with hot tears and my face flushed with sheer embarrassment, but I didn’t want them to know their stupid comment had affected me so much, so I muttered something unintelligible back and stayed for another two hours. Sat in my own misery, staring at the beautiful, delicious salad in front me which no longer tasted delicious.

Their words sliced through old, deep keloid scars in my mind, on my thighs, on my stomach, on my arms. Each one raw and oozing once again with the same feelings of shame, guilt and ugliness. Their seemingly innocent comment was probably just a testament to how close we are but to me it made me feel microscopic and mammoth all at the same time.

The following weeks were spent letting myself go – hiding in clothes too big for me, neglecting my health and neglecting my relationships. My friend’s comment put a huge strain on my life with my spouse and he was confused and frustrated as to why I was being so negative. I didn’t want anyone anywhere near me and I certainly didn’t want to talk to anyone.

The pinnacle came when, after a particularly rough day he came home from work and drove me to the beach. We both needed to clear our heads. He left me near the shore and went for a walk. I burst out crying to stormy waves and grey skies, every breath heaving and shuddering with the rise and fall of the tide. Twenty minutes passed and I was mid-cry when a lady touched my shoulder and asked if I was okay. I sobbed “yes” and she softened and hugged me.

Image Source(s) – 1: http://dlfeschool.in.th/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/storm-surge-cover.jpg

Image Source(s) – 2: http://pbs.twimg.com/media/ClkpS9TWAAAZ3Pn.jpg

 

A third year Professional Writing student with a deep love for snacking, baking, cute animals and coffee flavoured gelato! Join me on my literary adventures through and around Toronto (and hopefully, the rest of the world).
Hey! I'm Stephanie Wilcox, and I am a professional writing major here at York U! I spend most of my time playing piano or ukulele and crying over books and boybands. I'm currently studying Korean as an elective, and I hope to do plenty of travelling after I graduate. I believe in fighting for a better, safer, and more equal future, especially through words and writing. This is my third year at York University, and I am thrilled to begin writing with Her Campus this year as a CC and seeing the impact we will be making here!