The Remains of the Day

For my Lectures in Literature class, an assigned reading of mine is "The Remains of the Day" by Kazuo Ishiguro. Previously for this class, we've had to read a portion of The Canterbury Tales, Goblin Market, Dr. Faustus, and a slew of short stories. I do enjoy The Canterbury Tales, but having already taken a class dedicated to its entirety, I was pretty worn out by Chaucer. And while the other readings were things I have never read before, they didn't capture my interest very much.

So when I picked up The Remains of the Day, I was expecting it to be yet another book I would have to trudge my way through in order to be prepared. However, it couldn't have come at the right time in my life. I read the first half of it during the few hours before class, and promptly finished it the same day. The book simply could not be put down.

It's a story about a butler reminiscing about working for his old master, Lord Darlington, in the transition period between WWI and WWII. Stevens, the butler, first started preparing for the profession under his father, a butler himself. Yet while at Lord Darlington's, his father's circumstances change drastically, and Stevens chooses dignity instead of family.

The story is so odd, for at first I saw Stevens as a blank man, one without purpose besides his job, and one without enjoyment outside of duty. Yet when you read between the lines, you see more into him and how he truly does have a mind filled with conflicting ideals. Does he choose duty and honor or love and passion? He struggles with choices he has made and the ones he didn't make.

I just found that the book came at the right time in my life. Right now I'm leading a life full of struggles. However, with whatever choice I make, I am going to push through it. It's perfectly fine and downright human to look back and reminisce, but we can only live out the remains of our days.

I only have a couple more sessions of therapy left and I can say that this past month I have discovered a few new things about myself. Yet the most important is learning how to simply deal. To simply cope.

A couple nights ago I became confused about my emotions. I was upset yet I could not figure out why. But by sitting down and really thinking, I was able to deduce that I was simply stressed out. The pressures of school are mounting again nearing the end of the semester, not to mention the frustrations of figuring out classes for fall and making sure I get exactly what I need in order to graduate. Then at the end of April, during finals week nonetheless, I must move out and move into another rental. Soon after I will be doing a two month back and forth travel between two jobs in order to afford another semester of schooling and get a head start on my savings.

Yet I was able to break them down and deal with them one by one over the next two days. Classes in order, employment in order, the housing hunt going well, my head feels so much more freer to engage in things I enjoy.

At the end of April I am aware my tensions will be running will be extremely high, but I am not afraid of it. I understand I can cope with it. I have done it before successfully and I am able to do it again.




Many may think that I am not taking a larger investment in my psychotherapy. Others may not see the importance and necessity of my desire to have something short term and not long term. It's not simply what I look for in order to fit my schedule, but it's a trait and program I look for in my therapist as well.

I do not treat therapy as some might see other treatment programs. Depression can be seen as strange form of addiction. When individuals attempt to let go of one addiction, they turn to programs in order to cope. While they are beneficial, help one cope, and open up options, they may also turn into another addiction to fulfill the one lost. I do not wish to fall into that trap, and my therapist sees that as important as well. Therapy is not a way of life, it is simply a stepping stone. It is there to help a person get back up on their feet and give them the right direction and right tools. Therapy is not something to cling to, not to be used as a crutch.

It's about finding a greater strength within yourself. An ability to go forward on your own.

It has been a year.

That statement, that fact, just completely blows my mind. A year ago today, a senseless act of violence left a wonderful human being and friend dead in their own home.

It is difficult, getting over the sudden death of a friend. He is such a kind, funny, and warm hearted person. He worked hard for others and for himself. And then just suddenly, he is gone from the world.

I woke up the next morning hearing the news. I was so utterly confused, and for some reason I thought it was someone playing a really sick joke. But then reading the reports online, I learned it was anything but. I was in an complete daze, not sure really what to do. Then while in my Environmental Literature class, my professor asked me if there was anything wrong. She noticed I was turned off from the world. I burst into tears right when she asked, and I had to face the truth and tell her that a friend of mine was shot and killed the night before. My daze and confusion was my disability to find a way to react at the time.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. I was going to school at a new campus at the time, jumping in at the middle of the school year, and literally had no friends. All I had were my professors and the occasional video chat to my closest back home. It was an awful transition back into school life. Then upon hearing the news, it was a complete breaking point for my stability.

Mitchell Dubey was a great friend to many people. I may not have been as close to him as others, but his friendship impacted me. It was a terrible loss to lose him then, and it's still a terrible loss now.

Help and concern comes from unexpected places sometimes. The last person I'd expect this to come from is an instructor of mine. Professors and TAs and the like are there to grade your papers, guide you along the academic life, and open up your mind to their area of teaching. One would not expect for them to open up their concern over your recent changes.

Today I was contacted about how I missed an assignment and my teacher noted how it was very out of character for me. He then went on to say that it concerned him and that if I needed someone to talk to I could either confide in him or another professor.

It just goes to show you that help and concern for someone's well being can come from the most unexpected places. There is a lot of empathy in the world, and I still strongly believe that people generally want to help others who are in need.

I decided that I needed to find a more healthy, geared area for me to write in. Yet an area that isn't privatized. An area very public and very out there. This is part of my ongoing therapy that takes me outside the little world of my journal. Outside of this protective bubble I have created for myself.

I have had depression on and off for quite a few years now. It has been something I can manage for the most part, but in dark moments it rears its ugly head and becomes quite overbearing in my everyday life. Recently I have chosen to go back into therapy and counseling again, but this time for the long run. With this, I feel I'll better be able to cope when times get hard, and not chose to fall into drastic measures like I have done before.

The past two weeks have been trying to the point where I attempted to take my life. I believed that I would never feel that low again. However, I did. It's hard to cope with your own self when you have such negative thoughts. I'm the type to look on the bright side of many situations, to look back and see that things weren't so bad. Yet I fell into my trap of depression and impulsively saw it fit to chose such a fate. And with this, I lost a growing and great relationship with someone I truly care about. I lost something because the other cannot face hardship. At least they cannot face a hardship that I am living with.

Yet with this, I have found hope. I chose on my own to go into therapy and be completely honest with a woman that I have never met before. With her help I was also able to come clean and be honest with my parents about how I have been feeling. By just taking a simple step, I feel freed. I feel better.

And despite being let down by some, I have learned that I have people around who love me throughout the ups and downs. I have lost support, but have gained so much more. Without them, I'm not so sure that my healing process would go as smoothly.

It's going to take time. It's going to take a lot of time. It's going to take my entire life. Depression is not something that can be healed, it is something that can be managed. It is an illness I will have for the rest of my life, yet by having a support system and the right tools, I can make out alright.

One thing I learned is that I shouldn't be striving to be happy. That's unrealistic. What I should be striving for is to be content. To be okay. To find some sort of peace within.

Despite learning the bad about who I am, I also am aware of such good that I contain. I do not just like myself, I love myself. I am an intelligent, driven, and talented young lady still full with untapped potential. I am compassionate and loving. I have a pretty little smile and warm, dark eyes. I'm silly and serious.

I also admire my willingness to give second chances and to forgive. Without this, I wouldn't be the person who I am. I am an individual who in the end believes in the goodness of people. There's a lot of bad out in the world, but I must hold out hope that people will do what's right. I wouldn't want to live any other way.