So I've been going through a rump in my life lately but something that I just recently got over thankfully... okay let's not beat around the bush here. As of late I've been going through a really severe (or at least what I felt to be a severe) bout of depression. This is something I have not felt in years. I don't want to say how bad it got mainly because of the repercussions that may arrise from it. Luckily, my best friend (from England :) was staying with me at the time and helped me get through it. I want to say that it was a short ordeal but then I'd be lying...
The lowest of the low probably lasted about two and a half weeks. Leading up to it was kind of a long ordeal... The main problem I think with depression is the fact that we really can't talk about it... yes, that's right I said we can't really talk about it. I may sound like somebody going on a rant about the evils of our society but whatever, this is important. We live in a society where it is often seen as a form of weakness to show emotions. Yet how are we supposed to be able to deal with the emotional problems that many of us have. Sure we can go to therapists and psychiatrists but that is much easier said than done...
Even if we do go to a therapist of some sort, we often look at that as a sign of weakness as well. The thing is I have ways of hiding my depression which often work but sometimes it's a bit too hard to hide. Having people ask me what's wrong often make me feel uncomfortable - in the sense that I'm letting my vulnerable state show. It makes me feel as if I were a weakling. and when it comes to the therapist having to go to one can make people feel "weak." Atop that they have to be vulnerable to a complete stranger revealing very emotional details about their lives. It's a spiral of vulnerability.
But i've come to a revelation with the help of friends... Being vulnerable is not the same as being weak. If anything, being vulnerable and allowing yourself to be vulnerable is a sign of strength. You are breaking from the society's standards, rebelling against them. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable only shows how secure you are with yourself and your emotions. It's like what the anthropologist Ruth Behar essentially said - if you show yourself as being vulnerable people will react with vulnerability. Being vulnerable is the only way for others to be vulnerable as well. So let's all be vulnerable, it'll make for a emotionally healthier and sensitive society. It is only through mutual vulnerability that we can truly understand each other...
Yeah, think about it...
Yeah, think about it: thoughts and musings on life from a student studying about death
Read the title, it kinda explains things. Yeah, think about it...
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Saturday, 24 July 2010
Friday, 14 May 2010
Friends, my extended family
This post is probably going to be short, but I feel need to be posted. Then again I don't really plan out the posts on this blog like I do my papers. Often these posts are just thoughts and musings that come semi-spontaneously and randomly. I guess I have a need to be somewhat pretentious and write (type?) it for everyone to read. Of course, since only like 6 people read this blog, I'm really not being pretentious. Who am I kidding? there's probably more like 2 people reading this blog. Maybe I should dedicate a whole post about this matter. Yeah, think about it...
But anyhoo, I should really get on to the real subject matter of this blog... As you faithful :) readers may know, fairly recently I lost a good friend. As mentioned in the previous post, my friend Cole showed me that life was worth living. Furthermore, I also mentioned that he was not only a good friend but my brother. Essentially, I come to realize that my friends have essentially become a part of my family. I know sounds cliched but people say it but never really dealve into the matter.
People often say that you should be able to tell family anything and everything that goes on in your life. That's complete bupkis. well not really. I'll be one to admit that there are many things that I will not tell my family. I guess in a way it's a self-preservation technique, but in a way it's a way of protecting my family. I guess in a way I don't reveal some stuff to my family because I don't want them to see me as "weak" (maybe not weak, but let's use weak for lack of a better word - I will let myself be vulnerable with my family). However, some of the stuff I can't tell my family I will tell some of my friends (of course some level of trust needs to be met). And in turn I won't tell them some stuff, I'll tell my family for the same reasons. So if the whole idea of being able to tell your family anthing, I guess then my family will have to include some of my closest friends.
The problem with living abroad is that you have very minimal contact with your own family if any at all. Luckily, my brother is studying in the same country as I am. So I do get to see him every once in a while even though he can drive me nuts. So really, in a way I needed a kind of surrogate family - luckily I have found a group of friends that can help fulfill that role. So recently with the loss of a friend and brother, I have come to realize that I have gained more family members throughout my life. Now, I have come to realize that much of what I wrote here is contradictory and cliched. But isn't that what life supposed to be filled with them? Yeah, think about it...
But anyhoo, I should really get on to the real subject matter of this blog... As you faithful :) readers may know, fairly recently I lost a good friend. As mentioned in the previous post, my friend Cole showed me that life was worth living. Furthermore, I also mentioned that he was not only a good friend but my brother. Essentially, I come to realize that my friends have essentially become a part of my family. I know sounds cliched but people say it but never really dealve into the matter.
People often say that you should be able to tell family anything and everything that goes on in your life. That's complete bupkis. well not really. I'll be one to admit that there are many things that I will not tell my family. I guess in a way it's a self-preservation technique, but in a way it's a way of protecting my family. I guess in a way I don't reveal some stuff to my family because I don't want them to see me as "weak" (maybe not weak, but let's use weak for lack of a better word - I will let myself be vulnerable with my family). However, some of the stuff I can't tell my family I will tell some of my friends (of course some level of trust needs to be met). And in turn I won't tell them some stuff, I'll tell my family for the same reasons. So if the whole idea of being able to tell your family anthing, I guess then my family will have to include some of my closest friends.
The problem with living abroad is that you have very minimal contact with your own family if any at all. Luckily, my brother is studying in the same country as I am. So I do get to see him every once in a while even though he can drive me nuts. So really, in a way I needed a kind of surrogate family - luckily I have found a group of friends that can help fulfill that role. So recently with the loss of a friend and brother, I have come to realize that I have gained more family members throughout my life. Now, I have come to realize that much of what I wrote here is contradictory and cliched. But isn't that what life supposed to be filled with them? Yeah, think about it...
Thursday, 6 May 2010
Losing A Friend
Lisa: How come it won't stop hurting?
Marge: Oh, Lisa. it's normal to be sad when a friend dies... but nobody is really gone as long as we remember them.
So yesterday a good friend and brother, Cole, died after a long battle with cancer. The news came to me as a shock and has put me in quite a down mood. The thing is, he was the person that made me realize that life is worth living. During my last year of high school and first year of college, I went through a bout of depression sometimes with thoughts of suicide. The thing was I kept it mostly to myself, so most people would not have noticed this depression. A few friends did notice this bout of depression. In college, Cole was the one who helped me greatly through such tough times. He helped me realize that life is worth living...
The thing is, my graduate school education deals with most entirely about death and yet we are not taught how to deal with the death of those close to us. But how should we deal with the death of someone so close? Really, we don't know unless it happens to us... Unfortunately, it seems that society doesn't want us to really grieve. After getting the news, I called family for support. Essentially, the advice I was given is to be "strong." While nobody wants a family member to suffer such a loss, I find that the advice to be "strong" to be quite bad advice. In our society, being "strong" requires that emotions are not to be shown. Essentially, sadness and grief seem to be signs of weakness.
You cannot force somebody to be strong. Really, the grieving person should be allowed to be as emotional as he/she wants. Being strong requires that these emotions are to be internalized. In my opinion (and I'm not expert on the subject, this is advice from experience), holding in such emotions can be quite detrimental. I believe that a person should be able naturally go through a grieving cycle without any pressure or stress - the stress from the loss is overwhelming as it is. Trying to be strong only adds more stress.
So in a sense, I would say if someone were to suffer a loss, he/she should be as weak as he/she wants to be; they will be vulnerable and will want company. It is not time for them to be strong, it is time for you to be strong for them...
On another note, I never did tell how much Cole made a difference in my life. I'm going to sound cliched here but please let those you love and care for how much you love them, you may miss your chance.
And with that I just wanted to say, Rest in peace, Cole. You will be greatly missed.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
So I've changed the title of the blog... yeah, think about it...
So yes, it's true fans (what fans? there's like only a couple people who actually know about this blog), I have changed the title of my blog! Why? do you ask. well...
First of all, I guess I'm really not living with the dead am I? well, I live in a place where there are dead people fairly nearby, but I'm not living there really. I guess I was trying to be clever... you know... student living with the dead... kinda sounds like a zombie movie. hell, we're students, we end up being like zombies sometimes :)
Secondly, I'm really not writing about my life as a student in the UK really... in a way I felt that I should have a title that's more accurate to what I'm blogging about.
Really I've been writing about my thoughts and musings about life. The studying about death and how people kill each other is just partially a way for me to gain some perspective on life. so let's be honest with ourselves here. I guess...
Plus... if you haven't figured out by now... "Yeah, think about it..." is my catchphrase... (man i'm using way too many of those ellipses things)
But to be honest I did not come up with the phrase. It came from... The Simpsons! (obviously) the particular episode is Homer the Heretic (you should watch it and when the line comes up it'll hit you plus see the image b/c that's where he says the line). Even though I didn't come up with the phrase it's mine... It's like when a singer sings a song and it becomes his/her signature song but it wasn't written by the singer. You know... like Andy Williams and "Moon River."
So yeah, I just wanted to let you people know why I changed the title of the blog. Yeah, think about it...
Thursday, 15 April 2010
I want my elephant
"So isn't that what we're all asking in our own lives, 'Where's my elephant?'? I know that's what I've been asking." -Kent Brockman
As many of you should know (because I am assuming everyone should watch The Simpsons), the episode I'm alluding to is the one where Bart wins some radio contest where he gets the choice of an elephant (the gag prize) or $10000. Bart being the adolecent that he is chooses the elephant. Initially the radio station refuses to give him the elephant and a whole fiasco comes about because of it.
But let's think for a moment. Where is my elephant? It seems that as we grow older and more "mature," we come to ask this question less and less. Now I'm not talking about a literal elephant, but something that we so desired as a child that may seem so ridiculous. But what's wrong with ridiculous? Life was so much simpler as a child. Well now that I think about it maybe not so much. We've lost much of the wisdom of innocence. Wow! did I just say that? Maybe I should've been a philosophy major. yeah right...
But anyhoo let's expand upon that idea of wisdom of innocence... The life of a child is not as simple as many would claim. I'd say to the contrary. Everyday was an adventure and everyday was a lesson, an education. Something that I'm guessing most adults cannot say of their own lives at the present. With all these lessons and chaos going around them, it is surprising to think of how resilient children really are. But in other ways being a child was simple. Despite all these new lessons and adventures being bombarded at them, there were very few rules to really live by. but I digress...
What I'm trying to get across is... if you were to get on a time machine and travel back in time to when you were a kid, what would your kid-self say/think of you? Essentially, it seems that as we get older we become more and more cynical, paranoid, etc. The main issue is cynicism. I guess as a child I always wanted to see the good in people and generally try to be nice/pleasant to everyone. Really if we kept that kind of mentality don't you think the world would be good place? It is also as a child when we are constantly asked what we want to do when we grow up. I guess I'm tying this entry with a previous one about passion, but let's see where this takes us. As we are growing up, we always had these ideals of what we wanted to be as we grow up, but looking at some of the career choices that many have made, is that really what they wanted to be when they were growing up? What happened in their course of life to make them choose occupations that strayed so far from their original plans?
Growing up I wanted to be three things a doctor, archaeologist or paleontologist, or a superhero. yeah, think about it... Most of all I wanted to be a doctor (with some superhero qualities). Essentially I wanted to be able to save lives, make a difference, etc. Then I was hit with the reality of the fact that I can't save everyone and that most likely I will lose a patient. Certainly I could've chosen a field where I can't lose patients but I wanted to work in pediatric oncology or neurology. Well, I guess losing patients doesn't happen all that much in neurology, but as I became more acquainted with that field I've learned that all to often there is nothing I can do for my patients and would have to watch them suffer. Essentially, I knew I couldn't bear such responsibilities and hardships. However, this revelation didn't come until I was well into college.
Luckily, I decided to also be an anthropology major at the time, which has led me toward archaeology. So essentially, despite my path in life I was able to stick with something I wanted to be as I was growing up.
However, I am trying to maintain some of that child-like innocence in my life. During my junior/senior years in college I realized how cynical I became and started toward a more idyllic approach to life and people. And I must say I am really liking it a lot.
But what happens to people that cause them to lose such innocence (remember, I am not equating innocence with naivete)? I guess I am imploring people to find that innocence to find what they are truly passionate about in life and go for it. And in the end when we ask ourselves "where's my elephant?" we can reply back to ourselves "It's with you."
yeah, think about it...
Friday, 5 March 2010
On Homesickness
"She complains now but when we go to pick her up she won't want to leave." -Marge (after reading Lisa's letter from Kamp Krusty).
So yeah, it's been about five or so months since I have first set foot on the country of England. Let's just say my first impression of England was fairly average. Not too fascinating, but not so boring either. Frankly, I was wondering what all the hype about this country was from all of my friends who studied abroad. Well, I guess to be fair they studied in London. In some ways, I think they were just caught in somewhat of a tourist trap. Then again, I fell into a tourist traps of sorts... I decided to attend a school in Bournemouth. While the average American will most likely never have heard of this place, it seems that Bournemouth is a place where people from the UK would want to go for a vacation.
Sure the place is nice. It took a while for it to actually grow on me. but yeah I've gotten used to the fact that I am living and studying in a foreign country. But lately, I've come to realize how homesick I am. Yes I am one of those who is driven nuts by their family, but who isn't? However, it's not just family that I miss. It's pretty much everything. Driving on the right side of the road, American-sized portions, American way of spelling/pronouncing words. really, it's all the small, subtle stuff I miss. But what I miss most of all are my friends. Yes, I know missing my friends more than family seems harsh, but in all reality, I know that I'm going to see family eventually. but with friends it's a bit more unsure. I don't know what I'm talking about anymore. Anyhoo, the thing is my homesickness really didn't hit in until this week, really. So elections for student union president and stuff was going on this week. One of the candidates for an executive position, looked surprisingly like my best friend Anna. When seeing this candidate from afar, I thought to myself "Anna? What are you doing here?"And then it hit me, on how much I miss her. So I really haven't come up with any soul affirming resolutions, I guess I just needed to write down what I was feeling... So to all my friends out there, I send out my love and miss you all! Yeah, think about it...
Monday, 8 February 2010
America: explaining the negative
So living in the UK for the past few months have made me see my own country from a different light and point of view. Often I find myself agreeing with many of the grievances and problems people may have about America. Sometimes, people's "hatred" toward America is rooted from some of the things that I had hated. One of the biggest things that people equate with American culture is the idea that we sue just about everyone - we do not take responsibility for our actions and try to blame someone else. Frankly, while in America I did believe that lawyers had too much fun with suing a whole lot of people. But after living in the UK now for a little bit, maybe people abroad aren't suing enough.
Now hear me out. I'm not saying that people should go around suing each other for the smallest of foibles or anything like that. It's just that in America, we just have the guts (cajones, balls, etc.) to stand up for what we believe in. Here, people are just too damned "polite." Actually, I think of it as people being too passive in the UK. Well maybe passive-aggressive. If someone is angered by something, people will often just gripe about it and do absolutely nothing else. At least in America, we are willing to do somehting about it. Sometimes, unfortunately, it leads to many of us suing each other up the wazoo.
I guess what I'm saying is that much of Americans' actions are derived from the fact that we are passionate about the things we believe in and do. This passion I really haven't seen in the British people. Don't get me wrong, the British maybe passionate about things, but the extent and ways of showing that passion is kinda lacking in terms of American standards.
Another grievance people have had with America is America's focus on race. A friend (from the Netherlands) earlier this year talked about how much better it is in the Netherlands because they have transcended the need to talk about race and that people have no problems with interracial relationships and there is no mention of race when it comes to milestones, etc. The thing is, I'm glad that America brings up issues with race. Frankly, for talking about it, we are better off. First of all, it is a matter of pride. Race, despite, what some "enlightened" people want to belive (who often tend to be white - just an observation not a racist statement), is part of someone's identity. It can be a marker of individualism. Don't go around telling me, "I don't see skin color, I only see humans." That's just complete bulls#$%! I am Korean, it's what helps makes me me. Don't take that away from me! And frankly, our talking about race only makes us less racist, in my opinion. After watching a few shows in the UK, I found myself listening to a lot of things that were blatantly racist. Sure most of it was not very serious but really? Do you really need to portray a people in a negative fashion just to get a few laughs? Frankly, they were unapologetic about their racism. If there is no discussion of racism, how can we get past these differences that we are so aptly ready to point out and poke fun at?
Another thing, people from around the world seem to equate Americans with the stereotypical image of the obese person. So I ordered pizza the other day and like many people I know back home, I blotted the pizza with a napkin to soak up the excess oil. While doing so, a friend asks me, "How unAmerican can you be? Just eat the damned thing and drink up that grease." Also watching tv I'm intrigued at how fat jokes are aimed at America in general. Even in the "Nerve," Bourenmouth University's magazine type thing says how our president is so weird by the fact that he's a thin American -besides Taft was there ever a truly obese president? Being in the UK, I think I've lost quite a bit of weight from the sheer fact that I'm not eating as much because food here is so damned expensive. Back home food is cheap (I mean the quality is very good but the prices are very low). Frankly, I think the quality of food in the UK is subpar compared to American standards but a hell of a lot more expensive. So I retaliate to the idea that all Americans are fact by asking the people of the UK, how can any of you be so fat from the fact that your food is so damned expensive. Frankly, I see just as many obese individuals here as back home in the States. Yeah, think about it.
So to end this entry, I give you Bart expressing his way of showing his patriotism...
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