Hitting Your Reset Button

Hitting Your Reset Button

When life calls for a restart
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You ever find yourself working on a computer only to find that the computer wants to work less than you do? Most of us have. What’s the first thing you do to fix it? Other than bashing the keyboard and maybe muttering obscenities under your breath, I mean. Answer: You turn it off and then you turn it on again.

Sometimes people are like that too. We get so worked up about so many little things in our lives that seem so important, and they all build up to a big breakdown mentally. It doesn’t have to be super dramatic like a freak out, just a failure to cope as well as normal, or an inability to put things in perspective and feel comfortable with going on with life as usual. Emotionally, I think just as many of us have had to deal with this as we’ve had to deal with broken machines.



I liken people to computers in this instance not because they’re as mechanically rigid but due to a similarity in their fixes. Just like machines, people need to be rebooted every now and then. You obviously can’t literally shut a person off and then put them back online because that would be deadly, (and I take no responsibility for anyone who dies trying it) but you can reset your own frame of mind and that’s what’s important here.

Remember to take a day to yourself every now and then and really consider what is eating at you. Where is the breakdown occurring, why, and what can you do about it? Set aside some time to ponder this, make way for a resolution, and then take the rest of the day to just be. Relax and feel at one with yourself. It sounds cheesy but it can make a big difference and we could all use it occasionally.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my own power button.

Cover Image Credit: The Rainmaker Companies

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Everything You Will Miss If You Commit Suicide

The world needs you.
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You won't see the sunrise or have your favorite breakfast in the morning.

Instead, your family will mourn the sunrise because it means another day without you.

You will never stay up late talking to your friends or have a bonfire on a summer night.

You won't laugh until you cry again, or dance around and be silly.

You won't go on another adventure. You won't drive around under the moonlight and stars.

They'll miss you. They'll cry.

You won't fight with your siblings only to make up minutes later and laugh about it.

You won't get to interrogate your sister's fiancé when the time comes.

You won't be there to wipe away your mother's tears when she finds out that you're gone.

You won't be able to hug the ones that love you while they're waiting to wake up from the nightmare that had become their reality.

You won't be at your grandparents funeral, speaking about the good things they did in their life.

Instead, they will be at yours.

You won't find your purpose in life, the love of your life, get married or raise a family.

You won't celebrate another Christmas, Easter or birthday.

You won't turn another year older.

You will never see the places you've always dreamed of seeing.

You will not allow yourself the opportunity to get help.

This will be the last sunset you see.

You'll never see the sky change from a bright blue to purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows meshing together over the landscape again.

If the light has left your eyes and all you see is the darkness, know that it can get better. Let yourself get better.

This is what you will miss if you leave the world today.

This is who will care about you when you are gone.

You can change lives. But I hope it's not at the expense of yours.

We care. People care.

Don't let today be the end.

You don't have to live forever sad. You can be happy. It's not wrong to ask for help.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for fighting.

Suicide is a real problem that no one wants to talk about. I'm sure you're no different. But we need to talk about it. There is no difference between being suicidal and committing suicide. If someone tells you they want to kill themselves, do not think they won't do it. Do not just tell them, “Oh you'll be fine." Because when they aren't, you will wonder what you could have done to help. Sit with them however long you need to and tell them it will get better. Talk to them about their problems and tell them there is help. Be the help. Get them assistance. Remind them of all the things they will miss in life.

If you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline — 1-800-273-8255

Cover Image Credit: Brittani Norman

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Poetry On Odyssey: Anxiety

Are they listening when I talk? Will they laugh when I talk? Please, just don't ask me to talk.

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As the semester comes to an end, I am finishing up all of my final projects. For English 213, Introduction to Poetry, my final project is to present one of the poems that I workshopped during the semester in a public space. So, for my project, I decided not only to post my poem to Odyssey and advertise the poem by posting pieces of it around different bulletin boards around campus that display the link to the website. So, without further ado, here is my final poetry project:


Anxiety.

I'm listening,
Listening to the buzz of a dial tone
With the receiver in one hand
As I'm biting the already throbbing
Skin around the nails of the other.
I'm trying,
Trying to work up the courage
To press the numbers I need.

Who is going to pick up?
Will they pick up?
Please, just don't pick up.

I'm waiting,
Waiting outside in the cold
With my balled-up hand in mid-air
As sweat lingers on my frostbitten
Forehead that is cold to the touch.
I'm looking,
Looking for the strength
To knock on the door I'm standing at.

Is anyone home?
Should I just go home?
Please, just don't be home.

I'm slouching,
Slouching in my chair
With my head tilted downward
As I'm scratching the raw wound
That never gets the chance to heal.
I'm hoping,
Hoping that no one asks
For my clumsily formed opinion.

Are they listening when I talk?
Will they laugh when I talk?
Please, just don't ask me to talk.

I can't live my life.

I'm rehearsing,
Rehearsing my order
With my menu tightly gripped
As I stutter the words in my head
That echo my past mistakes.
I'm praying,
Praying that I don't forget
Anything that I want to say.

Are they judging my order?
Is there too much to my order?
Please, just don't comment on my order.

I'm keeping,
Keeping my headphones in
With no music playing
As my trembling hand fumbles
With the frayed bottom of my shirt.
I'm wishing,
Wishing that my weird little quirks
Won't be pointed out.

Are they laughing at me?
Should they laugh at me?
Please, just don't laugh at me.

Anxiety.

It's not a way to live.

It's a way to die.

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