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Fuck, like not being fine is so not shirt or sweet. Why can’t everyone just be all good, you know? No, I’m kidding: that was a joke. This is a funny column, right? RIGHT? VALIDATE ME I AM VERY INSECURE THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS DUE RIGHT NOW. But honestly, the point is that it’s actually so easy to not be fine. The economy is going to shit because capitalism (duh), election results were v stressful, it’s crunch time all up in academia and basicness is rife. Mental health among Millennials is notoriously bad. How are we meant to learn:
How to be okay
When we’re immersed in a 24/7 media culture that is either dragging us through near-continuous exposure to horrific events or pulling the fluff over our eyes with stories about ugly McDonald’s burgers with the only middle ground being irrelevant stories about Taylor Swift’s weak-at-best feminism defending Emma Watson’s far from game-changing (but probably bleakly necessary) feminism. The contrast between the horror and the fluff is an interesting and, if you’ll allow a bit of melodrama (you will), sinister parallel to what pseudoscience communities internet-wide have to say about the widening gap between the realities of what Millennials can achieve (horror) and what they have been taught to want (Fluff. Fluffy. Fluffy cats. Fluffy internet cats. Fluffy internet cats doing funny things).
To be sure, it’s tough, and although mental-illness rates do seem to have an interesting social context, the reality is that mental health is a deeply personal and variable beast. I am not even a Psychology student, let alone a psychologist (declined entry to PSYC122 because I applied too late), and so I’m not gonna talk any more about mental health. I am, however, a firm believer in the positive mental effects of the sweet-and-shirty lifestyle. This is why you must honour yourself. Your body is a temple. A bigger, fancier, more gilded temple than anyone else’s, with more mosaics and incense and flowers. But, like, maybe keep your deities on the down-low.
Temples have excellent acoustics, and you should never underestimate the healing power of a hearty scream when confronted by the void/exams/basic people who don’t understand what’s good for them like you do/your finite existence/the finite existence of our planet.
Scream loud and scream strong. Be angry and sad and downtrodden, but know that you aren’t fucking ‘broken’. You don’t need fixing. You don’t need romanticising. You just need to always buy cans with pull-tabs on top. I promise you, if you try to open a can with a thing that isn’t a can-opener, you WILL NOT BE OKAY so just don’t.