Real Men Go To Work

Toxic Masculinity and “being a man” somehow got mixed up into meaning the same thing. And it’s sickening. Toxic masculinity is not strength. It is weak. And it is good for no one.

The ‘manliest’ man struggles because he cannot ask for help. Men discourage men because the conversation can never be about the last time you cried or the person you care most about.

And what is the result? Nothing less than a swipe right movement. The conversations about how many women you’ve slept with. And it’s never about their names.  It’s never about who they are.  It’s only about the notches on the belt.

The same belt that beats down the hopeful imagination of young boys.

The same belt that hangs from a ceiling fan because a man would rather tighten his neck than loosen his heart.

The belt that holds up pants which cover up your real manhood. The pants that disguise your sense of being a man with a fake sense of belonging and a false confidence that spreads like wildfire.

Truth is real men don’t need belts. Real men wear pants that fit.

Pants that wrap around their bodies comfortably, accepting the imperfections of their body just as they accept the bodies of real women instead of sizing them up to unrealistic standards. Pants that trail down to the top of work boots.

Work boots that go to work for equal rights for all human kind.

Work boots that go to work using their strength to protect the people who feel weak. To use the power in their voice for the people who are not heard.

They are not boots that stomp over the people below. Crumbling their pride, their confidence, or their consent.

Real men grab a hat as they leave for work. Not a hat that hides their true intentions and protects them from any consequences. But a hat that humbles them of their privileges and sets them out to do good.

Real men take sticks of gum and take time to chew on their words instead of spitting out insults, judgments and sexist remarks.

Real men have eyes that see the beauty in women instead of casting down shame on their image.

Men are taught to measure twice and to cut once. Measure your self-worth, build it up, and cut others some slack.  Don’t measure to show off how big you are and cut other people down.

Real men wear dirty shirts. Shirts covered in blood sweat and tears. The blood from their mother that taught them how to treat a woman.  The sweat from chasing after their goals and passions. And the tears that they cry when it all seems a little too hard.

Not the blood of your victims, the sweat from others doing your work, and the tears of the girls you’ve left behind.

Real men go to work. You can pick them out of the crowd by the gas masks they wear to protect themselves from the toxic masculinity that surrounds them. The toxic masculinity that closes in on them and asks what notch of the belt they’re on.

But I say don’t worry. I know my privileges. I am a white male in North America.  I have more opportunity than anyone else on the planet. And yet it sickens me to be a part of this stereotype. A stereotype that is all to true.  A stereotype that reads ‘rape’ all over headlines.

To have girls tell me that my friends have taken advantage of them but no one else can know. Because the verbal assault that follows might be worse than the physical.

To have men all around me cheat and lie

And when they tell their buddies it results in high fives

Cause you got laid bro.

And this is what manhood is. But you’re such a man because you get up and go to work in the morning.

Real men go to work.

They go to work for the ones who can’t.

The High

What was the last thing you truly wanted?

I feel like I’m living a life that ain’t mine.

And every time i share some of my mental health story to the public, and i get positive feedback, I feel a glimpse of what my life should be.

Sometimes I feel so high that I envision myself being famous, I envision myself being known world wide as an advocate for mental health, i see myself helping people through their struggles on a daily basis. I see myself in a movie.  And i see it so vividly that i believe it to be true. Like there is no way that this doesn’t happen.  Because i am meant for greatness and it is only a matter of time before i rise to it.

Sometimes i feel so low that i cant get out of bed and get something to eat because i am  not worthy of life.  I cant get out of this darkness because if someone sees me trying to escape it they will spit on me and shove me back down into the dungeon that is my head.

Every time I write I am trying to get people to understand what I am going through every minute of everyday. My mind does not take a break.  And i will keep writing because i will never find a way to explain exactly how it feels.

People don’t understand the high.  I feel so good, so full of energy.  Cocaine couldn’t begin to understand the high that my own brain can give me.  There is absolutely nothing in the world that could bring me down.  One day someone broke into my car and stole my stuff and I didn’t hesitate for a second.  They must’ve needed that stuff more than me.  Isn’t the circle of life beautiful? The world balances itself out and I can just keep living, keep smiling.

Wouldn’t a normal response be hey my sh*t just got stolen that kinda sucks?

People don’t understand the low.  There is literally a voice inside my head screaming at my every move, my every thought.  The voice is me.  The voice isn’t ME.  The voice doesn’t go away it just is quiet sometimes and louder at other times.  My mind almost always knows whats best, but my voice shuts it down a lot.  My thoughts go hey Chris you’re feeling down because you’ve been in bed all day. Maybe if you just get out of bed your head will clear up a bit.  My voice goes Chris you’ve been in bed all day because that is all you’re good for.  I go but voice I gotta make it to class today.  My voice says but everyone will see you and I’ll tell them how fucked up you are and everyone will judge you.  What would you do?

I work and I work.  I have a civil war between my ears.  It is all about the small victories.  The voice told me I can’t get out of bed today.  So I don’t get my homework done. But I make it to class.  Win.  I play it off like I was too cool to do my homework.  I get a couple more wins.  I make it to the gym or out for a run.  I get the good drugs pumping through my head.  I get a couple more wins.  I keep battling.  I keep working at it.  You don’t think I can get out of bed? Too bad, I’m f*cking doing it. And then one day I wake up and the sun is shining.

Right now I’m waiting for that day.  And it can’t come soon enough.

I WANT this voice to f*ck off.

Cause this life ain’t mine.

Moments of Bliss

It’s about moments. Moments of bliss. We do it all. We battle. We get up when we can’t stand. We shout when we have no words. We listen when we can’t hear outside our own head. We feel for others when we cannot feel ourselves.

We hear people tell us that it gets better. We do not believe them. But we keep going. We go minutes, hours, days, weeks, months without hope. We keep going. Why? We battle. All for those moments. We don’t know when they come. We cannot always create them. But they are life. Moments of bliss. When you are surrounded by friends and loved ones and you realize that you are just laughing in the moment. You escape all the darkness. And by the time you have come to the realization of this moment, it is already gone. Quicker then it came. But it was bliss. We get up. We eat. We shower. We go to work. We go to school. We battle to do all the things that we are supposed to be able to do everyday. It is so hard. We keep going. We will never stop. Why? Moments of bliss. They are magical. They are what makes us alive. They are ineffable and unexplainable. And they will always come again, no matter how long they disappear for. So we keep going. Because all of the struggles are worth it.

Even if.

It is only for a moment.

“All I want is

And all I need is

To find somebody

I’ll find soMEbody”

To the kid I never knew

To the kid I never knew-

“If I fail this test I’m going to jump off the building” I’ve heard similar words being said thousands of times while I walk through the library. And I’m sure you heard them too. Too bad no one realized just how real those words could be.

But of course I don’t know why you did it. I didn’t even know you. This is all I will ever know you for. Many students will shutter at the thought of “the kid who jumped off the library roof”

I don’t know why you did it.

I don’t know you.

But I wish I did.

And I wish I could say there will be only good things left behind. But they will talk. “What kind of loser does that” “that’s so selfish” “I couldn’t even enjoy my Starbucks”

I remember my high school history teacher informing a class full of young students that anyone who commits suicide is a coward. That word has stuck in my mind ever since. Coward.

But I don’t think you’re a coward. Not at all. I think you’re brave. And no one will know just how much courage it took for you to hold on as long as you did.

Isn’t it hard to explain what it’s like to be driving down the highway to go to school and to wonder if you could turn the car and drive head on into the cement barrier. To take your meds every morning and wonder how many of them you’d have to take to die. To look out a buildings window and wonder if the fall would be enough to kill you.

Yes they will talk. And they will show that the negative outlook on mental illness is alive and well. But I want you to know that you didn’t die for nothing. You’ve given us a gift, whether people want to admit it or not.

Because of you, people will hug their friends and family a little tighter. They might end stupid arguments that have been going on for too long. They might smile at the stranger walking past them on the staircase.

Maybe “Go kill yourself” could stop being a common insult and instead could be the words no one ever says.

Maybe the words “I’d jump off this building” won’t be joked about anymore.

To the kid I never knew

I hope you have lost all the guilt and shame that came along with those thoughts.

I hope people may see you for who you were; not a loser or a crazy person but a good kid fighting an invisible war.

I hope you never have to see another person face the same choice.

I hope you have peace.

Stupid F*cking Movies

Spoiler alert i guess…

So this stupid f*cking movie called A star is born is stupid and I’m going to tell you why.


Bradley Cooper (the main character) gets drugged up and hangs himself using his belt and a ceiling fan.  He leaves his brother behind, as well as his wife who clearly loves him more than anything.  I’ll give the movie one thing, it does a good job portraying addiction.


The end of the movie is supposed to be beautiful.  In a movie review it literally says that the star is born in the end because “Ally at the end of the movie is just starting. What’s she going to create is going to be even bigger than what we’ve seen prior.” So what the point is that if the love of your life kills themselves it means your going to be able to write some really songs?  I don’t think she is going to give a sh*t about being a star anymore if she could have him back.

Then it says “…the human courage to persevere and to move forward. I just thought this was brilliant”  Yeah bloody f*cking brilliant.  It’s so easy she can just move on and have a great life and itll be beautiful.  Like he just kills himself and she sings a song and then it ends.  Like that’s it.  What about the fact she, no, everyone he’s ever connected with has to try to live the rest of their lives with this gaping f*cking hole in their heart.  Like the movie just gets to end, real life doesn’t work that way.


Suicide is ugly.  Suicide is brutal.  Suicide is forever.  Suicide hurts so many people.  Just thinking about suicide hurts so many people.  The movie industry has no idea about the impact it has on people.  Like how many more people are going to be thinking of killing themselves because of this movie?  How many more people are actually going to do it? This movie makes it seem like suicide is an answer.  It says she’ll be better off without him.  No person is ever better off after something like that.  Suicide is never an answer.  It is devastating.  And it is devastating that we could suggest that suicide is anything but ugly.  What about the people who can’t go home now because they don’t know what they would do?  You can’t put suicide into people’s minds like this.  You just can’t.

Stupid F*ucking Movie.



Everything you need.

“You already have everything you need right now in this very moment to be at ease with your life and yourself.” -Mark Van Buren

I don’t want to be preaching the exact same mindful words that every one else is preaching about ‘living in the present’ but with that in mind, why is everyone preaching it? Because it’s so unbelievably true and because we as habitual humans NEED to be reminded of this constantly. Personally, this summer has been full of objective destinations. I NEEDed to get a nice new vehicle. I NEEDed to get a nice new place. And I NEEDed to get my body into peak physical appearance.

Now I can see my summer of free time nearing an end and I’m looking back at what I accomplished. It is so easy to look at it objectively. I got a new vehicle. I’m moving into a new place. My working out wasn’t quite that successful… but you get the point. No. These THINGS have not changed me at all. What have I actually accomplished over the past 2 months? I made huge strides with my mental health getting a new diagnosis and new medications to trial. I worked on myself as both a friend and a roommate in figuring out what is truly important to me. I’ve made small steps in owning my emotions and learning to recognize when I’m going into one of my phases.

Right now, in this very moment, I have everything I NEED to live a long as happy life. If someone asks me in person I might say I’m trying to save my money for someTHING, I might tell you about the new stuff I got, and I might tell you about the drinks I had. But right now me and you are gonna share a little secret; that sh*t doesn’t matter. I matter. You matter. Sh*t doesn’t matter.

Thanks for listening.


Wanna be


Growing up I was constantly asked “WHAT do you want to be when you grow up?”
Of course I didn’t know the answer to this question. After some time I would respond “I want to be a fire truck”
Many people laughed and took this for face value, as a silly kid giving a silly answer.
The way I see it was giving a dumb answer to an even dumber question.
Of course a “fire truck” will never define what I become.
And neither will a “doctor”, nor a “fast food worker” nor a “criminal”
Silly adults, asking WHAT will I become as if one label will define my entire self.
I hope that one day people will ask my parents what there son is doing and they will reply “he is happy” and they will be proud.
When will we ask WHO do you want to become. And I’m not talking about super-man. I’m talking about super-Chris.
What morals will you hold dear to your heart? What memories will always make you crack a smile. What experiences will teach you valuable lessons? What goals will you put your all into? How will you learn hard work, determination, and resiliency? What challenges will teach you what is and what isn’t “worth it”? Do you want to get caught up in your failures or entranced in “what else ya got?”
When I was a kid people told me I was so smart I could be a lawyer. So eventually I said I wanted to be a lawyer. And then when I stopped feeling smart I stopped thinking I could be a lawyer. Truth is “super-Chris” was never a lawyer. “Super-Chris” is getting back up again after falling down for the millionth time. Super-Chris is saying the things that his head told him he could never say, and taking the leaps of faith that his head told him he could never take. Super-Chris is casually answering a phone call at midnight and talking a friend down from a panic attack. Because Chris isn’t perfect and he gets insomnia sometimes but maybe that doesn’t mean something is wrong with him but instead it gives him an opportunity to be there for someone. Super Chris isn’t a lawyer, super Chris is walking into a room with confidence and laughing so hard everyone in the room has to laugh back.

Lawyer-Chris could probably get his research paper in on time, but super-Chris can probably give someone else the ideas and strength to finish their essay and to not give up on themselves.
Lawyer Chris would probably learn to hide his sensitivity and act like words cannot hurt him. Super Chris can probably wear his heart on his sleeve, so EVERYONE can see his true self. And with a heart right there, maybe he can stay true to it. Maybe he can realize his passions and chase them relentlessly. Maybe he can pursue happiness and enjoy the ride. And maybe he’ll get that essay done…. eventually.

“WHAT do you want to be when you grow up?”

How about “WHO do you want to be when you grow up?”

I think I’ll be Chris.

#becomingchristopher #wannabe #positivity #mentality

Stay at home boyfriend?


I could be a stay at home boyfriend.

Wait… could I be a stay at home boyfriend?

I’m sure everyone is somewhat aware of the concept. However generally it occurs the opposite way. A woman finds a man, often older but more importantly richer, and they stay with him. He makes all the money and they just get to live at home and never work during their life. And if you’re like me then I’ve sure you’ve had your moments where you’ve thought “ah that wouldn’t be so bad.” So could I, a 22 year old somewhat attractive young man with no impressive set of skills, be content, happy, or in any way fulfilled by living the life of a stay at home boyfriend?

First of all we have no idea what feelings I could have for this hypothetical woman, both physically and emotionally, so let’s just skip past that minor detail (haha).

I’m bad at housework as it is. And I don’t like doing it. Folding the laundry is an extremely painful experience for me and I don’t see how doing it more often could change how strongly I feel about it. If you want to know how I do washing dishes just talk to my roommates. So I think you get the point. We are off to a rough start. However, as someone who currently has no idea what they are doing with their life, having that weight taken off my shoulders sounds like a blessing. I would have a purpose. Right? Just keep things in order and then my life would be taken care of.

Wrong. I’m starting to believe that the reason I have struggled so much with finding my true passion and more importantly channeling my passion into actually doing something is because I need something big in my life. I need to accomplish great things or I will never be satisfied. I could take away so many of the struggles I deal with in my current life. Where is my next paycheque coming from? What am I going to pursue? Who am I going to pursue? I could answer all of the common questions I ask myself. That would be nice. But would I capture the art of fulfillment? Hard no on that one captain.

But what if I never achieve fulfillment? What if I never find my true purpose, my bliss? I still have to try. I believe the journey will be worth it if maybe, somehow, I can get away with doing a little less laundry.


Life is a mirror

I’ve been having a very difficult time lately. Which isn’t entirely uncommon for me. I know I’ve been in a very similar position before. And I’ve realized that when I go through these especially rough periods in my life, 2 things are always present.

1. I believe that life is being unfair to me.

2. I act out with anger, frustration, and negativity.

Is it just me or do those 2 things probably affect one another? I am reminded of the story where an angry dog walks into a room full of mirrors and only sees angry dogs staring back at him. Then a happy dog walks into the same room and he only sees smiling dogs and wagging tails.

Truth is, although I feel almost entirely convinced that life is out to get me right now; logically it just isn’t so. Maybe, MAYBE 1 or 2 bad things have happened to me that weren’t at all my fault. But last time I checked, that’s what life is. In fact, I’m starting to think that the reason it feels like life is picking on me is because I’ve become angry and I’ve been expressing too much negativity to life.

Sure, maybe even if I never got angry then 1 or 2 bad things would still happen to me. But I’m guessing that they wouldn’t feel as bad and they’d be easier to handle. Do you guys think I’m on to something here?

Problem is now I’m stuck in this rut where too many bad things have happened to me and my shoulders are so so heavy and I can’t let anything go because I don’t even know where to start.

I’m reminded of an idea from Tony Robbins in that blame can not be one dimensional. “Cause if you’re going to blame people for all the sh*t you better blame them for all the good too.” Accepting that statement makes it a lot harder to keep grudges.

Whether it be relationships, family members, or jobs; if you want to blame someone or something for 1 bad thing you have to give them/it the credit for all the good that has come too.

How can I stay mad at life when life has shown me the most amazing things in this world? If I want to blame life for the bad then I have to blame it for every time I’ve cracked a smile, broken up in laughter, or been stunned by something so beautiful.

How can I stay mad at a parent for doing me wrong in one aspect when I have them to blame for making me the man that I am today? The man that is sweet and caring on the inside. Not the man that fights with the world, showing snarls and clenched fists. But the man that is open and confident with his heart on his sleeve.

Smile at the mirror if you want it to smile back.


#christopher101 #tonyrobbins #positivity #mentality #positivementality #wellness #forgetselfhelp #helpyourself

Life is a 3 ingredient meal.


You know those moments you’re breathing so fast but not breathing at all?

You’re crying out so loud but you can’t make out a sound?

The worlds moving so fast but time won’t move at all?

I pray you don’t.

But what do you do? Simplify. In school they teach you to multiply. I can do that with my problems. I can add them all up. Make it a game, we’ll call it 7 up. My problems grow exponentially. They could never stop growing; potentially. My problems always multiply. But instead I think I should simplify.

Life is simple.

It’s a 3 ingredient meal.

I was just a kid. Too young to remember, too old to forget. I went to bed real early. Because I could feel a storm coming. My mother was smoking. My father was pacing. My fingers were loosely gripped around the pillow that was cowering over my head. And then those chubby little fingers clamped down the very second that I took my last real breath of the night and my parents shouted the first daggers of the fight.




I never actually remember the arguments. My father was gone. I sat outside my mothers bedroom and listened to the tears rolling down her cheek inside. Eventually she came back to the present. She had a kid to take care of. Something to do. I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I don’t know how she managed, but she came out of that room with a smile on her face, asking me if I wanted to go to Mcdonalds.

I always do.

And when we got there and the restaurant was closed, her brave smile remained. Looks like we get to make something at home!

It was late, we were both very tired, and there wasn’t a lot of food in the house. What to do? Simplify. There were always noodles in the pantry, eggs in the fridge, and sugar in the cupboard. Cook the noodles, fry them with the eggs. And add sugar to sweeten up your life. With those 3 ingredients my mother showed me how to make the easiest, and at that moment, most delicious meal in the world. It was awesome. And I went to bed that night with a happy stomach to battle my worried heart.

3 ingredients to life.

1. Something is going to happen

2. It is going to effect you in some way

3. You get to choose what to make of it.


#cooking #mentalhealth #mentalhealthy #simplicity #wordstoliveby

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