Something I used to love doing. Something I used to do with my eyes open and closed. Now I dread my dreams, and I pray I don’t have them or remember them. When my loved ones tell me their dreams, and I try my best to be happy for them and listen like I actually even want to. In reality, I am filled with envy. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Fear. Why? Somewhere along the line, my dreams stopped being happy. They started being an accumulation of my fears, traumas, and most profound thoughts I never choose to think of. Maybe it’s because when unconscious you have no choice, you deal with what you’re given. One day I hope to enjoy my dreams, or at maybe at the least enjoy others.


I describe my mornings as, unlike many other peoples. Why may you ask? Well, I wake up every day with a constant fear of what is in store. You may even say the fear starts the night before when I am going to bed. The thing is I am unlike most people because of a diagnosis I received two years ago. Anorexia Nervosa has since then impacted most of my days, hours, and minutes since then. It starts in the morning when I wake up with stomach pains because I damaged my digestive system so much that still, it has not repaired itself. Then we move on to getting dressed. Oh, how I used to love this part of my day. I could wear whatever I wanted to without any backlash from my body or mind, and now my body quivers at the thought of tight clothing. Not because I don’t like the way I look, but because I hate the way I feel – no wonder I own nine pairs of sweatpants -. Next, I go downstairs when I should be eating my first meal, but nope not with how my schooling schedule is planned out, and definitely not with how my digestive system aches. So now that I am probably late for school, I leave to go to a class I’m more than likely suffering in. Commonly for the next couple hours, till I go home, I will sit in a dull ache in my whole body, try to stay focused. Now I drive home, immediately change into clothes that I feel good in. After this, I start my 1 of 6 meals for the day. I’ll end this here, or I’d be encroaching on my afternoon, and that’s a whole new story.

Budget Cut Me Out Of It

Over the last month, which in retrospect has only been 14 days – wow feels much longer – my mind has continued to go back and forth from my day to day issues and politics specifically to do with schooling. If you read my post ‘Left or Right’ then you may already have an understanding as to why this topic is hard for me. Commonly I think of the conservative side as businessmen and businesswomen who are very traditional, and the liberal side as human rights advocates who adapt and change with society. I grew up and still live in a household where business is all around me as my father is a businessman and has his own company. This opened my mind to see perspectives I would have normally been closed off to in politics mainly. I find myself nervous to say my opinion on the budget cuts in Ontario’s education system for a couple of reasons. I don’t agree with every aspect of it, but I advocate for the cuts, I have had many excellent teachers who I would hate to lose their jobs, and I don’t like Doug Ford. Basically the liberal in me. I believe that though I don’t want teachers to lose their jobs its because I feel bad, and I know that emotional decisions are not always the right ones. I also know that many people become teachers for the wrong reasons, I also understand that some classes could be filled more, along with taking 4 classes online is not that hard at all. I know that paying for art programs that are having a declining enrollment rate is useless. However, another part of me feels terrible that some of my favorite teachers could lose their job while terrible ones could stay. Or that the kids who love art and hate their other classes will be affected by this, and that kids with autism need help. The conversation with myself on this topic goes back and forth, but the logical side of me always lands on the cuts. If I had one wish other than our government not getting us in billions of dollars worth of debt, it would be to CUT ME OUT OF THIS.


What is honesty? To be free of deceit and untruthfulness. Does anyone sincerely know what it is, to be honest? Does anyone even feel honest? I know I don’t. When being honest with yourself, do you find yourself lying to others? Or do you lie to both? I’ve discovered when I do it’s only to you. I always know my truth even if it’s never said aloud. Is it to make you or me feel better, and that I don’t know. One day I will, and then maybe I’ll lie to us both.

Right or Left

I find myself stressed over this choice, am I left wing, or am I right wing. Am I liberal or conservative? Why do I have to be either? What if I like some ideologies from both sides? What does that make me? I believe that voting is so important, maybe its because I am a woman and I am a woman of color, or maybe its because I see the amount of value voting has, or perhaps it is both. I also believe that many people do not feel this way and those reasons I could not tell you. But what I do know is that choosing is hard, defining yourself as left wing or right wing, liberal or conservative is hard and that it gets in the way of why we’re voting. We vote to choose who will be running our town, city, province, state, and country. We are not voting to choose sides. I wish we could just take the hostility out of being one or the other, and only voted who we felt would do the best for us as a collective society. I personally get very stressed when I talk about politics and have an intense inner dilemma because of the way each side is spoken about, and because I don’t know what wing I identify as and feel pressured to choose one. I find when I agree with the right wing the left wing part of me struggles and vice versa. Where is this pressure coming from I ask? Not my family, not my friends, but from the media and society. So instead of challenging myself to choose, I will challenge myself not to and to feel comfortable with not knowing. I will confront myself to do as I say and vote who I believe will do the best for us.

The Girl I Used To Know

I thought it would be fitting to take myself back to the time I came into high school, specifically Innisdale Secondary School. It was orientation day, and my mother and I were touring around the school. We ended up talking to a teacher I now know as Mr.Fraser, and at the time, of course, I didn’t listen to anything the teachers had to say. Now I think about it all the time. He told me ‘the friends you will make are you’ and here five years later I wish I would have listened. I spent the first two years with a group of people I thought I would know forever, and in those first two years of my high school journey I thought wow it is true when they say high school is the best years of your life. Now I think, jeez if that is the case for you I feel bad. I wonder where in my life I would be if I had stayed the course of destruction I was on. Running from authority, responsibility, choosing the wreckage instead of restoration, eating away at myself from the inside out, pretending to be someone I didn’t even know, allowing myself to be in situations that I knew could only end a couple ways, and live a life that was never meant for me. But maybe the path I had taken was perfect because would I be me if it wasn’t for her? The girl I used to know.