Tuesday, March 25, 2014

On the road to "recovery": Reflections on depression

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Sipping at green tea and reflecting on how quickly the end of my freshman year of college is approaching, I recently decided to read back through the blog I kept during high school. I'm a big advocate of blogging, journaling, or in some way documenting your thoughts and goals. For me, having undergone a dramatic transformation since high school, having a record of my growth has been an inspiring, motivating, and uplifting aspect of my life, as it has served as a reminder of how things can get better, and of how malleable the future is.

However, as I read through my (often stupid, and almost always over-dramatic) accounts of my junior and senior years of high school, I was taken aback by a number of posts. Not only because of their content, but also their quantity. Beginning in the Spring of 2011, my blog was updated with posts like the following on an almost biweekly basis:

How I feel about life: A rant.
I’m a failure. Please note choice of words — I haven’t failed. I’m a failure. The noun. The type of person who doesn’t deserve to interact with other people. Or eat. Or even breathe. I don't deserve to exist.
And I know that other people think it’s okay, and will be my friend anyways, and won’t hate me because of it. But it’s not about what other people think. I want to think it’s okay, and not hate myself because of it.
I don’t deserve anything. I don’t deserve friends, I don’t deserve anything I have, I don’t deserve to eat. And right now I don’t feel like I deserve to live. I'm sorry to everyone who has supported me for letting you down. I don't deserve your support, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking up space in the universe.
I don't deserve all the good things and people in my life, I don't deserve to be alive, and I don't want to be anymore.
I'm done.
             

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Ricotta Herb Soufflés (An ode to cheese)

You know what's awesome? Cheese. 


You know what's not awesome for my wants-to-be-svelte physique? Cheese.



I actually only wrote that sentence so that I could use the word svelte. Actually, it will become relevant soon. But, I digress. 

The point of this post is that cheese rocks and you should eat it. You should eat it in large quantities, at every meal, and whenever given the opportunity. 

I love cheese. I always have. Not only do I love cheese, but I love all cheese. Who's discriminating here? Not me. 


Friday, March 14, 2014

Ahi tuna tacos with mardi gras slaw

I'm going to say something shocking:


I don't like tacos.



To be fair, for anyone who knows me well, this probably isn't all too terribly shocking. Carbs and I have a love hate relationship (I hate them, I love them, I hate that I love them?) and I don't really see why the makings of a good taco just have to be confined to a tortilla.

Because tortillas are delicious. That's why.

Like I said, love hate relationship.


The insides of these tacos definitely need not be limited to the confines of a tortilla. I served myself one taco and had the equivalent of another in the form of just a clump of taco "stuff."

But do you need these tacos in your life? Yes. An absolute, definitive, unequivocal yes. And that's coming from someone who doesn't like tacos.

Saturday, March 1, 2014