On the last day of the conference, a few fellow conference goers asked me about where I was staying. We were talking over lunch at an affordable Chinese place not too far from the fancy hotel that served as the conference venue. “It’s a hostel that’s filthy and smells like pot,” I responded. “And it’s…
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Self-Awareness (So Easily Said and So Difficult to Actualize)
The most central part of my journey, and central to every sub-section of this blog series, is self-awareness. The first step was learning to know when I’m in a depressive phase. Believe it or not, I’d been having depressive phases for the better part of a decade before I learned to recognize them for what…
“Where Are You From?”: When I Became Japanese
In the third term of fourth grade, I was transferred out of public school and into a small private school. Everything changed. I was extremely culturally confused and had a temper that flared up at very inconvenient times and places that I myself couldn’t explain…and yet I made friends. I had had friends in public…
The Quirky Hostel Manager (Pt. 2)
On day 2 of the conference, I walked up the hill through the rain to attend the 6am coffee session. After that, still pretty damp, I attended panel after panel. I’d forgotten my phone in the hostel, so after lunch (just as I was starting to feel dry) I rushed back to the hostel to…
Keeping Ahead of the Shadows: An Introduction
Of the blog series that I’ve decided to write, I knew from the start that this would be the most difficult. It was also the one I most wanted to write, because I think that it might be helpful to someone if I put my experience out into the world. I suffer from chronic depression….
“Where Are You From?”: The Beginning of an Identity Crisis
“Where are you from?” is among the most common of getting-to-know-you questions. It is also my least favorite question of all time. I can’t think of a realistic context in which I would ever have to rank my least favorite questions in order, but I can say with absolute certainty that this question would top…
The Quirky Hostel Manager (Pt. 1)
I dragged my larger-than-necessary suitcase from Powell Station to the hostel on 6th. I’d just flown in from Tokyo for the San Francisco Writer’s Conference that started the next day. I was exhausted and my phone was not making my day any easier: the battery would lose charge like sand through a sieve, and it…