{"id":876,"date":"2017-04-27T12:21:01","date_gmt":"2017-04-27T16:21:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/inside.gcschool.org\/gracegazette\/?p=876"},"modified":"2017-04-27T12:21:01","modified_gmt":"2017-04-27T16:21:01","slug":"liam-stewart-chapel-talk","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/liam-stewart-chapel-talk\/","title":{"rendered":"Liam Stewart: Chapel Talk"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cDING-DING-DADING-DADING!\u201d I don’t believe there is a worse sound than the screeching of an alarm in the morning. Slowly, you find enough strength to open your crusty eyes and flop your palm onto the snooze button with only the force of gravity pushing your lifeless hand down. But there\u2019s a problem\u2026 you\u2019re still not up and ready to take on the day. Muscle memory forces you to pick yourself up, as you kneel on your bed looking down longingly at the comfortable safety of the bed you just left. \u201cJust get your lazy butt out of bed and go to school.\u201d \u201cWhy? It\u2019s too early for anyone to be awake; I didn\u2019t get to finish my homework last night; I have a quiz in class that I\u2019m not prepared for; and the sun isn’t even up yet. Why shouldn\u2019t I just go back to sleep?\u201d \u00a0\u201cC\u2019mon, don\u2019t be like that. If you miss school you won’t get to see your friends and you\u2019ll fall behind.\u201d I\u2019m sure everyone here has had a similar morning argument with themselves about whether or not it\u2019s worth getting out of bed. Normally, the fear of falling behind and not seeing friends is enough to persuade you to get out of bed, but, instead, at one point recently I started to tell myself things like, \u201cMy friends don\u2019t really care about me and it\u2019s not like I’m even smart enough to be successful. So, it doesn’t matter if my grades fall. I\u2019m just going back to go back to sleep.\u201d That\u2019s when I realized what depression really felt like. Have you ever lost your favorite pair of headphones or your favorite shirt, and, after you realized what had happened–all you could did was wallow in the memory of it? No one understands how you feel, because, to them, it\u2019s just a pair of headphones or a shirt; but to you it meant so much more. Living with depression is a lot like that: becoming significantly sad and angry at events others might find insignificant. <\/span><\/p>\n

My depression was brought on by a myriad of traumas. Even before having to withstand the anxiety of the college process, for months I endured a physically and emotionally abusive relationship only to, weeks later, sit powerlessly listening as my brother disclosed to me his desire to commit suicide. So, as you can imagine, by the time school started I was at the lowest point in my life I\u2019d ever been and the only way I knew how to deal with it was to repress all of my sadness. I\u2019m sure each of you has experienced having a big project assigned before a long weekend, and you tell yourself, \u201cOh, perfect, I have all break to get it done.\u201d It\u2019s so easy to tell yourself that… but you don\u2019t actually set aside a specific day and time to finish it, do you? Throughout your vacation, the memory of your project will sporadically bother you like a rock in your shoe–but you and I both know that the project won\u2019t get done until the day before school starts. Repressing stress is just like that: it\u2019s easy and at first it seems like an efficient way to cope, but I promise you that at one point or another you\u2019ll be forced to acknowledge reality and the pain will have only gotten worse. \u00a0In my case, I was saved by a memory, a memory of a six-year-old Liam running around with a Lego starship, on a crucial mission: to destroy the Deathstar (or in this case, a piano). This memory reminded me of how much fun I could still have all by myself. I was <\/span>not<\/span><\/i> alone. As long as I had my own life, I would never be truly alone. Maybe once I die I\u2019ll be alone… but until that day comes I will always have myself to help me get through life. \u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Realizing my own strength was an essential first step, but to do so I had to be honest with myself and stop repressing my past, which unfortunately brought on a great deal of self-loathing and rage. As a child I stood about four feet tall and weighed 60 pounds basically I was tiny in comparison to the other kids my age. Of course because of that I was made fun of a lot and it drove me crazy. I was too small to fight back and had no way of making myself bigger, I felt powerless. The anger that tortured me as a child stayed with me even as I grew older and would reappear anytime I felt powerless. Deep down I still saw myself as that small 60 pound kid and when I couldn\u2019t change the reality of my past relationship, when I couldn’t change the sadness my brother felt, when I couldn\u2019t just skip to the end of the college process, when I couldn\u2019t change a bad grade I got that same anger I felt as a kid resurfaced. I hated the man I saw looking back at me in the mirror every morning. I blamed myself for every misfortune plaguing me and the people I cared for. I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I knew I had the fortitude to survive my self-deprecation, but the emotional and physical scars would plaster my identity forever like a glamorous mural graffitied onto the side of a weathered red brick building. And without help the rage only became worse and worse. If I wanted to live a better life, without self-harm, without feeling like an angry bomb about to blow, I had to face my biggest fear and talk to someone honestly about my struggles. After opening up to my best friend I felt stronger than I ever have and with that newfound strength I was able to open up to even more and more people. The more and more people I opened up to the stronger I found myself feeling; eventually, I built up the courage to seek professional help. I started taking medication and worked with my therapist to create safe, effective coping mechanisms that worked for me. My therapist helped me realize that my anger came from my childhood and he helped me understand that I wasn\u2019t that same 60 pound kid anymore. During my lowest points I considered taking my own life, fortunately the people I had opened up to helped me understand that if being powerless to help is what bothered me so much then taking my life was the opposite of the solution I so desperately wanted to find. <\/span><\/p>\n

While working hard to battle my depression, I learned a few valuable lessons that will stay with me forever. I learned that people needed me, and, even if I didn’t know it or believe it at first, there would always be people out there who need me. I learned that as easy as repressing pain may be, allowing myself to feel made me stronger than repression ever could have. I learned that being honest and vulnerable with the people around me didn’t make me weaker–but actually made me stronger. And, lastly, I learned just how unbreakable I am\u2026 so the next time you feel unimaginably alone remember this moment because I am going to tell you something you will never admit to yourself. <\/span>You<\/span><\/i> are the strongest person that you know and you alone have it in yourself to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and be courageous enough to ask someone for help. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cDING-DING-DADING-DADING!\u201d I don’t believe there is a worse sound than the screeching of an alarm in the morning. Slowly, you find enough strength to open your crusty eyes and flop… Continue reading “Liam Stewart: Chapel Talk”<\/span> <\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":880,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"appful":[],"class_list":["post-876","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-school"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9uEnr-e8","jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/876","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=876"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/876\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=876"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=876"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=876"},{"taxonomy":"appful","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gracegazette.org\/wordpress1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/appful?post=876"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}