tips for studying with depression

I have been suffering from depression for a long time now, I’ve survived high school and I’m trying to survive college right now. If you’re a student struggling with depression you know that it’s hard. Sometimes it even feels impossible. Today I’ve written down some tips, that help me study. I hope it will help you too.

BEFORE YOU START: CLEAN

Yes, you read that right. Before you start studying clean your room, do your laundry, do all the chores you’ve been meaning to do. Clean environment will make you feel good. Plus you won’t have to think about it for the rest of the day. I hate when I start studying, but all I can think about is all the chores I haven’t done yet.

NUMBER ONE: ORGANIZE

The first step is to plan what exactly you need to study for. Take a look in your diary and prioritize the exams. If the exam is hard, plan more days for studying. Don’t study at the last minute, the stress wil only worsen your depression. Then check your notes and materials. Be sure you have everything ready before you start studying. If you don’t have the notes ask a classmate.

NUMBER TWO: STUDYING

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Study for more exams at the same time. Instead of studying the same materials all day, change it up. For example study anatomy for 1 hour, then microbiology, then psychology, then anatomy again. The change of subjects is what keeps your brain from being tired and aphatetic which makes your depression worse.

NUMBER THREE: TAKE A BREAK

This one is super important. Break your studying into segments and after completing each segment, take a break. For example after you read 25 pages you watch one episode of your favourite Tv show (I’m obsessed with Buzffeed Unsolved right now, go check it out). Just take a break when you feel tired or overwhelmed. Listen to some music, read or take a nap.

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NUMBER FOUR: DON’T CARE ABOUT THE GRADES

This only works If you’re not a scholarship student. This is especially easy for me to say because college is free in my county. If you’re not a scholarship student then I suggest to stop caring about the grades. As long as you pass the exam you are fine. Don’t feel pressured to have great grades. As soon as you stop caring about it, you won’t feel so guilty about a bad grade.

NUMBER FIVE: IT’S OKAY TO GIVE UP

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I’m in the middle of my finals right now. I still have three exams and couple of hospital training days left before the end of the semester. This month has been crazy, last week I had five exams and so far this week I had two. Today I was supposed to have anatomy exam, the hardest subject of the semester. I had three days to study, but I didn’t. The thing is I know I would have been able to pull it off. I just didn’t want to. I decided to look out for my mental health fo once and not do it. When you feel like you just cannot do it, then don’t. I’m writing this in my experience with my country’s education system. Here, we have three tries for one exam before we have to re- take the semester. If you have similar opportunities, take them. You don’t need to complete everything on your first try.

NUMBER SIX: YOU’RE DOING GREAT

Don’t compare yourself to other students. Remember that depression is a bitch and makes everything 100 times harder. If others have no problems with the exams it’s because they are healthy. Remember you are strong! You can do this!

why the fuck do we suddenly talk about money ?

When I was growing up we had nothing. We were constantly hanging on the edge of poverty. My mom raised us on  her own and with four children and a minimal wage it was hard. My grandma helped us, but every time she did she made sure mom would never forget it. But we were happy, because we had each other. My twin brother, my sister, who is a year younger than us and our little sister, who is five years younger. We were always Very close and always tried to help our mom. Especially us three, because our sister was much younger than us, she never felt the responsibilities we did, because she was just a kid. Something we had to give up pretty quickly. We would tell mom, that we don’t want to go on a school trip, just so she could save money, for food and clothes.

It was a little different for my brother and youngest sister. My grandma liked them more than me and my sister. She always had and she still does. In me she saw our father, who left us and spent time in prison, never to care for us or pay his alimony. She hated me for looking like him, acting like him for reminding her of the man who abandoned her daughter.

In my sister she saw our mother. Who at nineteen left her home for Prague and found a man who made her four kids, a lot debts and left. She dislikes my sister, cause she is so much like my mother. So it was a little harder for us two, but we still had each other.

Now, not so much. The youngest will be seventeen this year and she is growing up very differently than we did. My brother started working after he finished school and he earns a lot of money, he lives with his girlfriend. I got married, my sister still lives at home, but works he ass of so she could afford an apartment and move out.

The problem is, that my brother seems to have forgotten that we stared from nothing. He has money now. The middle class money. He is very mean to my sister, always telling her that if she worked harder she could afford a car or the apartment or whatever. He sounds like the kids who used bully us in school. He says the stuff they used to shout at us. He became what we always despised.

Now we talk about money. We never used to do that. That’s maybe the only perk of not having money, you don’t talk about it. Look at me I’m writing about it. I would never imagine myself writing about something so unimportant as money. But here we are.

He spoils my youngest sister. He does and it pisses me off. More than rich people we always hated spoiled kids and now my little sister is one of them. It’s different with me, because I do now have the middle class money, but it’s my husband’s money. What I’m afraid of is that, when I do start working and we will have more money than we do now, will I become a middle class asshole like my brother did? Why do people change like that? There is so much more you could have than money.

 

 

 

 

new year, new bullshit

The time has come for everyone to write about the past year and their hopes and dreams for the next one. I’m not going to do that. You probably wouldn’t even expect me to. I used to give myself new year’s resolutions, back when I was naive. I know myself now, that’s the problem. I know that no matter how many lists I make, how many blog posts I write or how many bullet journal pages I dedicate to the resolutions I will never actually do them. That’s just how it is. It’s prehaps a little sad and upsetting and great many tears and frustrated wines have been given as were  a lots of swear words. That’s also the only thing, I realized, I could do about it, because nothing will ever change about me. I have no motivation and my will to do anything (including living) has left me some time ago  with no intentions of ever coming back. At least with no resolutions I will not feel guilty after not completing them and that is the only good thing I could hope for in 2018.

The new year’s resolution business is too definite for me anyway. To change something about yourself, your habits, to achieve your goals, to do all of that in a year?? That’s not only impossible, but actually really cruel. Most of people can’t change all their lives and just how many books, films and song a have been written about people who achieved nothing and their dreams never came true, but still something makes you think that you can  do it. You have to be really motivated and brave to do that, because you probably won’t and you will be disappointed and you will feel like shit, maybe you’ll even feel slightly depressed. Don’t do that to yourself. Come to the quitter side, we may not have cookies, but life is, oh so much easier here.

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There are people, I heard of them, but never actually met one, who can achieve their goals. Apparently they’re called adults. Their natural habitat is diner parties. If you ever get invited to their tastefully decorated house,  don’t forget to bring a bottle of wine, which will remind them of  the wine they drunk on their trip to Italy they took a couple of years ago, but still can’t stop talking about it.

 

So, If you’re a responsible adult and have your shit together, I applaud you. Go and live your life and enjoy every second of it. And to us, the 20 somethings who haven’t quite grown up, I say this: go and get drunk. Not the most sophisticated advice you can get, but let’s be honest, what else can we really do to help us survive the bullshit that is life?

This post is a mess. Like all my posts, another thing I won’t change in 2018 (yay!). In a  conclusion of this mess – Please give your mental health a break and skip the resolutions, go see a Star War instead, or read a book or something.

Happy New Year to all!

the bathtub

Everytime my depression gets bad and I feel like I just can’t take anymore I go to the bathtub and cry. I just strip down and sit in it, but it’s not like in the movies when there’s a girl sitting in the water staring into the distance while a single tear falls down on her beautiful face. No, this is different.

I cry, my nose is running. The tears mixed with saliva are flowing to my neck as I struggle to breathe. I’m cold. I don’t know why it’s happening and there’s only one though circulating through my mind over and over again:  i’m going to die, i’m going to die, i’m going to die.

Right when I feel, that  only another pain could stop this I reach for the shower head and raise my hand to strike myself with it, my husband comes in. This is not the first time he sees me like this. He touches me and starts talking slowly. As he’s talking he helps me clean myself. Then he takes me out the bathtub and walks me to bed.

I feel better now. I needed to relieve some tension. I’m telling you because you shouldn’t feel ashamed for crying. Of you feel like it cry. If you can’t take it anymore, go to the bathtub, but you should have someone who pulls you out of it. Don’t be ashamed about your deppression. Tell someone and I promise it will help you.

charlottesville

I as a European have always watched the political events in the United States. It is one of the biggest countries in the world and arguably the most influential one. I never comment on it though. Because I am not an American I don’t live there and never have so I feel it is not for me to comment on the political situation there. But I have to talk about this.

For those of you who don’t know on August 12 a “Unite the Right” rally was planned  to protest against  the removal of a statue of Confederate icon General Robert E Lee in Charlottesville, Virginia. Speeding car, driven by one of the protestors, rammed into counter-demonstrators injuring more than 30 of people and killing one of them.

The protestors were waiving Nazi flags, shouting “blood and soil” and “white lives matter”. Let’s call them by their name, they are Nazis. No alt right, no sugar-coating. They are Nazis. The are horrible, disgusting people. They make me sick.

One of the things makes me sad is that most of the American public doesn’t really know about the horrors of WWII. Of course they know about it from history lessons and so on, but they never get to see it and hear about it on a regular daily basis. I live in the Czech Republic. Our country was occupied by the Germans from 1938 to 1945.

I was born 51 years after the war ended and I know the stories. My great grandparents lived through it. They were farmers, living in a small village nowhere important and even they were terrified of the Germans. They feared that one day they will come for them and send them to a concentration camp. My teacher used to tell me stories about his childhood, how they would hide in a basement when the Nazis were patrolling  the streets. I read the books by Arnošt Lustig and other great czech writers about their suffering in concentration camps. I had the pleasure to hear his sister Hana talk about her experience in Terezín and Auschwitz. If you speak czech or know someone who does please watch this video and listen to her talk about her horrifying experiences.

I visited Auschwitz couple of years ago as a school trip. It was horrifying. I will never forget how I felt when I was there. Standing in places where unspeakable horrors have happened and so many innocent people suffered and died is terrifying. I saw the clothes, the suitcases, the toys, the shoes, the hair of the people who died in gas chambers. But I don’t have to go that far to be reminded of those who lost their lives to hatred. There are two monuments of the WWII victims in a walking distance from my house. And not just here, it will probably be impossible to find a village or a town without a similar monument.

I promised myself that when I have kids I will talk to them about it, that I will educate them so they would never let history repeat itself.

But it is happening right now. It makes me angry that there are people who believe that other people should die based on the color of their skin or their religion.  James Alex Fields Jr is a terrorist. White supremacists are terrorists. Yet Trump is blaming both sides. He is saying the alt- left (whatever that might be in his head) is as evil as the white supremacist. I can’t wrap my head around it. By alt – left he probably means communists and yes socialistic regimes are also evil, but the USA has never got even close to socialism. Never. But that is a topic for another article. Basically the president defends the Nazis. I have nothing but disrespect and disquist for that man.

I am affraid, because I know the history. I’ve met people who survived concentration camps and those who lived in fear and saw the terrors of the Nazi regime. I am affraid the history is gonna repeat. But I know that now, more than ever is time to speak up against it. Speak against the white supremacy. Don’t dismiss it. Read a history book. Watch The Pianist or The Schindler’s List. Do something. Stand up for what is right.

 

the bubble

Me and my husband have been married for three months and I can honestly say it has been the best period of our relationship so far. I am happy and everything is great. The only thing that worries me is that I know the bubble is gonna burst. I just don’t know when.

Yesterday me and my friend hang at a coffee-house and talked about her relationship. She and her boyfriend have been together for a year. Yesterday he told he that he loves her, but he doesn’t want to settle down. So right now they live together as friends with benefits. It is hard for her to leave him, even though I think that’s what she should do. She loves him so much she is willing to stay with him even though he doesn’t want to share his future with her. They were happy and then the bubble burst. Is it gonna happen to us as well?

Of course, they weren’t married like we are. That made me examine the married couples I know. My parents are divorced. I have two aunts who are trapped in loveless marriages. My grandparents are divorced. Most of my friends parents are divorced or separated. I know only one or two married couples that seem to be happy.

Is our bubble gonna burst? Why can’t we just stay in this moment, perfectly happy and comfortable. I don’t want to look at my husband and not seeing the love. What if I wake up one day realizing I don’t love him anymore. I can’t bear that thought. I will protect the bubble at all costs.

the summer of 2012

Over the course of my life I have met many people, none of them however changed my life and helped me find myself as the three I met in the summer of 2012.

I just turned 16 couple of months before the faithful summer. Me and my brother and sister had a group of friends whom we knew our whole lives. Em my brother’s girlfriend at the time, inherited a house after her mother died when she was little and this was the first summer her grandparents allowed us to use it. It was a big, beautiful but a little beat-up house.The furniture inside was relic of the 90’s with only three rooms fully furnished. The central heating didn’t work, the water was cold and we could only use electricity occasionally because it was expensive.

We loved the house anyway, spending most of our time there. We would throw parties and invite everyone who’d bring booze. As I said I only had a small group of friends, but that summer I met many new people. Among them was Dee. She and I became friends, she was like a breath of fresh air. I could talk to her about everything. She was free, talking about sex, smoking cigarettes and drinking on weekdays. I have lost my virginity the year before we met to a guy who never called me back afterwards, but I have never talked about sex before. With newly found confidence I started smoking, drinking and brought Dee into the house.

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