Rob is basically an amalgam of myself, the self I wish I was, and the horror stories I’d heard about my condition. In essence he’s me and the journey he goes on pretty much parallels what I did when I first “broke.”
I was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was 20 years old.
Memories of that stupid meditative Indian flute music that reverberated through your ceiling way too loudly during many attempts at getting some much needed studying done.
Why is it that when we see a person we might like to get to know we don’t automatically run over to them panting and lick their face saying “OH MY GOD, I’M SO GLAD I SAW YOU!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!”
The last year of my life has been marked by a relative paranoia of the outside world followed closely by a depression that things were never going to change.
At what point does trolling go too far? At what point do the morals we’ve grown up learning (or always innately had) go out the window for the sake of entertaining people?
What exactly is the etiquette of corresponding with someone you’ve never met, but would like to get to know, strictly through social media and electronic communication?
One of the most profound observations everyone makes about becoming an adult is the realization that nobody really knows what they’re doing. There’s serious power in knowing that everyone, even the commander-in-chief of the United States of America is floundering in competing notions about how the world should be.
This speaks to a phenomenon that not a lot of people discuss and is, for the most part, overlooked as a normal facet of living in today’s world. That phenomenon is the deep, seemingly unquenchable need for acceptance from either our peers or persons unknown.
…Over 3,995,000 people have passed who were on Facebook this year alone.