Rebecca Corbett
Stories (4/0)
Diet C(j)oke
I will not beat around the bush, I will go right ahead and say it: I absolutely hate Diet Coke. I really do and yes, it is a strange topic and admittedly I am somewhat of an odd character but the other day I was having a discussion with a friend about how much we both hate Diet Coke and ever since I just have not been able to let it go. Why? I have no idea. Yet here I am. For me It is not really a matter of whether or not it is "better for me" or "healthier" (which by the way I do not think it is, sweeteners? No thanks) but for me it is just that Diet Coke tastes like… well, nothing. Acknowledging that regular Cola is not entirely a healthy substance in itself but if you are going to put something like that into your system you want it to at least taste of something, right? Time after time I have given Diet Coke a chance but each time, without fail, I have swallowed it only to find myself still thirsty and questioning why I thought this time it would be different. I know that I say that with such conviction as if it has somehow wronged me similarly to a bad ex asking for a second chance. I know it is just a soft drink but you can imagine the amount of distress it has caused me for me to truly go out of my way to express my opinion in this way.
By Rebecca Corbett6 years ago in Feast
Depression
Living with depression is hard to portray to someone who is lucky enough to not suffer from this mental illness, or any kind of mental illness. I like to think of myself as a good writer but even now I am struggling to find the words to give even the slightest insight. On the worst of days, living with depression is not living. Mental illness is something widely and commonly misunderstood. Of course, mental illness differs and there are various types of it, all of which are life altering, but I will focus on depression as it is the most common and something from which I suffer myself. The idea that something inside my head is not right, not only terrifies me, but deeply saddens me. I often think: why me? What is it about my head and my brain that is different from that of a normal happy person? Well, I think that I know the cause. I believe the root of my depression stems from losing my dad when I was age 15, but there are many other factors. Some people have no specific cause or trauma that triggers it, it just happens. Either way, I have to live with it. And so do many others. To think that a chemical imbalance in my brain has had such an impact in my life, more so than real people and real interactions. It is all in my head and I always think to myself ‘why can’t you just be ok.' There is so much in my life I have to be grateful for, but it’s almost as if it is just out of my reach. It is as if I am looking at my own life through a glass screen. I’m not in control. Sometimes it is easier to stay in bed. There is a sort of safety about that, something I can’t explain.
By Rebecca Corbett6 years ago in Psyche