Trigger warning: this text contains mention of suicide.
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I wouldn’t wish a day inside my head on anyone. It’s often bonkers, with boundless creativity (good!) but also boundless overthinking (less good!). I sleep with a noise machine on because for me, complete silence is the loudest thing of all…
My mental health journey peaked during my teenage years, notably with clinical depression, anxiety and insomnia. Couple that with school and family issues and it culminated with a suicide attempt at…16? I don’t fully remember, that time was kind of a blur.
I ultimately beat most of those issues for two reasons:
1) music – the greatest thing in the world
2) realizing at 17 that I wanted to go to college for radio – because having a goal to strive for saved my life
Fast-forward to now, a 41-year-old anglophone from Halifax, Nova Scotia who’s been living in Québec City for the last three years.
Upon arrival I had basic French: the ability to get myself around as a tourist but not hold a full conversation. As someone who literally used to talk for a living, not being able to properly communicate verbally was wild. I’ve improved immensely because, despite living alone and working mostly in English, I embrace this incredible francophone city and bust my hump to do so. But of course, it’s a work in progress: at times I still struggle, still get frustrated, still get treated like an idiot by (mostly well-meaning) people. It’s going to be a while, if ever, before all that changes.
You know what’s funny to think about when it comes to living here? I’m a straight, white, cis male, and… I’m a minority. For the first time in my life, I, a member of basically the only demographic on Earth that doesn’t face discrimination and/or oppression, am included in a marginalized group.
When people compliment me on finally saying YOLO and taking this leap, I thank them, but add that immigrants are the real brave ones. Moving from much farther away, entering a completely different culture, having to change official documentation and other stuff that shouldn’t be as difficult as it is, not having a support system at hand …that is an adjustment.
I still experience a good amount of generalized anxiety. One delightful thing about that is, I often replay social interactions in my head and then curse myself when something didn’t necessarily go ideally. You know what’s even better? That, but in my second language! Yay!
Mental health issues come for everyone at some point. What I try to remember – as simply a human being living on this beautiful mess of a planet – is that I can’t control what other people do or think, and that’s freeing in itself.
Now, do I worry about making other people look bad somehow? Absolutely, I try desperately not to hurt anyone. If I go down, no one needs to come with me.
I know that the things that pick me up when I’m down are music and laughter. As I write this, I’m listening to a song called “Empty Like the Ocean” AND just rocked “Puits sans fond” by Québec’s own Vulgaires Machins, a title that means “bottomless pit” – like where mental health issues can send you. That’s probably my cue to wrap this up, isn’t it?
Good luck to you, and one thing I pride myself on: Even if I can’t help, I’ll listen.
Thank you for reading my story.
By Kevin Bottaro