Unspoke Magazine: Issue One

U N S P O K E M A G A Z I N E

ISSUE ONE

MARCH 2017

♦ About Our Magazine ♦ In today’s world, we are faced with conflict and constantly changing social, political, and economical issues. These issues are commonly suppressed and are “taboo” subjects of conversation. Our mission, is to expose these topics and get people talking. We want to release the unspoken, and shine a light on it.

♦ About Mental and Physical Health ♦ Health can be defined by our everyday mood, or our blood samples at the doctor. Either way it is a factor in our lives that cannot be ignored. It is not always shown on the outside, and can affect us all in an innumerable amount of ways.

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Healthy Eats That Even College Students Can Make

By Rachel Flynn

If you’re like me, you moved into your first apartment thinking that you would be cooking and eating healthy on a regular basis. However, that quickly becomes unrealistic when you realize just how busy you are with classes, friends, and work. These recipes are quick and easy, and their health benefits will keep you alert, even during your 8am’s.

Groovy Fruit Smoothie

Some of us (okay, maybe more than some) are guilty of picking up our smoothies from Starbucks or Jamba Juice rather than making our own on the cheap. Buying frozen fruit in bulk not only saves money, but can last for even a whole semester. This recipe calls for a mix of mangoes, peaches, and pineapple, but it can be customized based on the fruits available to you.

1. Place frozen mango cubes, peach slices, and pineapple chunks into a container and leave out to thaw, in order to make blending easier.

2. Place fruits into a blender. Add enough orange juice to at least cover the fruit. More juice can be added for a thinner blend.

3. Add in crushed ice to turn it into a slushy, or use honey as a natural sweetener. Use vanilla or plain yogurt to thicken the mix.

4. Blend well and enjoy.

Don’t have a blender or just hate cleaning one out? Invest in a $20 hand blender that not only takes up less space and is simple to clean.

Okay, hear me out. Vegetables, let alone carrots, are usually not the first thing that comes to mind when looking for snacks. But this recipe is so tasty I’m ready to make it into the exception.

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1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. 2. Slice carrots down the middle in order to ensure that they will cook all the way through.

If you are using petite carrots, you can skip this step.

3. Drizzle olive oil over the carrots and mix so that the carrots are well coated. Feel free to add in salt, pepper, brown sugar, or honey for flavor.

4. Spread carrot slices onto a baking sheet and bake for around 30 minutes.

Sweet Roasted Carrots

Oatmeal Bites This is one of my favorite things to snack on during long classes. Also makes a great on-the-go breakfast if you take the time to make it the night before. Makes 12-16 depending on size.

1. Mash up one banana, then add in one cup of oats.

2. Add in a quarter cup of peanut butter, and then add in honey, maple syrup, and/or Nutella until mixture is sticky.

3. Add Cinnamon, vanilla, or chocolate chips to make it sweeter. Flax seeds or chopped nuts make great mix-ins as well, and add to the health factor.

4. Mix well with a spoon.

5. Wash your hands and then use a teaspoon or tablespoon to scoop bite-size pieces of the mixture onto a baking sheet. Use your hands to mold the pieces together if they begin to fall apart. Don’t worry, they won’t be perfect, but the mixture should stick together.

6. Freeze baking sheet for about an hour, or until it’s ready.

Helpful Tips:

- If you’re planning to enjoy these snacks as part of a breakfast, it can help to prepare or cook these snacks the night before to allow yourself a few more minutes of sleep in the morning - Make these recipes in bulk, so you can enjoy your handiwork over the course of a few days and not have to worry about cooking all the time.

- Customize! These are pretty basic recipes that call for only a few ingredients. Make them your own based on your taste and what you already have in your kitchen!

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R U O Y P L HE T S I T R A W O L EL

F

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e c n e r u a y CJ L

b

As I type away on my laptop, I am in a hesitant mood. Do I go on further into detail about the cost of finding what’s “real”? Do I forget all about it and tell you something else? No, you as my audience deserve to know the cost of getting in too deep, seeking truth, and getting spat out like a piece of old chewing gum. You deserve that much.

I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember, often telling vivid and imaginative stories from when I was very young. As I got older though, I became addicted to true, unfiltered honesty in storytelling. Truth, unfortunately, is lacking in the world of today, with fake news and other various bullshit artists infecting your parent’s or grandparent’s social media pages like a non-lethal Bubonic Plague. How do we find the truth through the mass amounts of lies and bullshit we’re surrounded by?

The answer is nowhere to be seen.

Instead we have a bunch of hacks and bullshitters who present themselves as

“reliable” journalists and talking heads, filling the poor, easily manipulated, gullible bastards we all know with lies and misinformation.

In my search, I came across many a terrible things. Seeing the effects of said things in my hometown, seeing paranoia transform the people who I’d known most of my life into hateful warjunkies. There was no love to be found there, it slowly dried up, like a puddle on a hot summer’s day. It’s difficult to realize that being in denial, for many folks in the town I came from, was the easiest way to cope with a variety of bullshit and corruption. My point here is to tell you how life can drag you down so far, so deep, that there’s no way to feel good. There’s nothing but fear and loathing permeating my mind. Life isn’t easy, not by any stretch of the imagination. We all should know this, as even getting into college was a difficult and harrowing set of trials for all of us.

I’ve struggled with depression for a decent portion of my life. I struggled

to find my calling, even contemplating whether or not I’d pursue a higher education. As I engaged with an inner dilemma such as this, I reached out. I cried out to my family, my closest friends. I asked them for advice on what I should do with my life. After weeding out the vast amounts of smartass remarks, indecipherable quotes, etc. I realized that I needed to educate myself, or else I was doomed to serve the remainder of my natural life to the steel mills. I channeled this anxiety into my writing.

So that’s what I did, and I applied to college the following week. I’ve been at Columbia College ever since.

Here, in the United States, many people only look out for “number one,” choosing themselves over anyone else.

We can’t degrade ourselves to this kind of selfishness that has been prevalent since the Reagan years. Here’s the deal folks, we’re all in this TOGETHER. We can’t be nomadic and selfish, not in times like these. We have to rely on others in all portions of our lives. From when mothers feeding us when we were infants, to when a nurse has to help you change your clothes when you’re too old and weak to do it yourself.

Many of us have or will be depressed at some point in the time we live, whether it’s caused from sheer randomness, a failed relationship, or even the loss of a loved one. We need to look out and care for one another. As

artists, we are often associated with depression and other mental illnesses.

Those who aren’t involved in the creative fields aren’t as familiar with the phrase “art is pain.” Depression is no joke; it is brutal, unflinching, and will not hesitate to consume everything you are if you’re not careful. It’s as if a shadow is cast over you, and turns you into a shallow husk of your former self. In a time where we as students of the arts get a lot of shit for pursuing our creative passions, sticking together, is necessary in the struggle to protect fellow artists from a world that does not understand them.

In conclusion, I hope that all of us artists and intellectuals will stick up for each other, care for each other, and most important of all, love each other. If we don’t, then we are doomed to suffer similar fates as artists of old. Even something as simple as asking someone who’s going through a rough patch if they want to go get a cup of coffee and chat for awhile. Little things like this that many people never really think of in the heat of the moment, can show someone who’s suffering with depression or anxiety that someone is out there, that there is someone out there who cares about them. We as people, need to have more love and compassion in our lives, especially in times of uncertainty. In these uncertain times, having people in your corner who support you will go a long way.

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A GUIDE TO EAT Anorexia Nervosa

Someone is obsessed with weight and body image and often will succumb to selfstarvation.

• little to no appetite • refusal to eat • obsession with body image • extreme weight loss • weighing or limiting food portions • excessive exercise • weighing often • wearing baggy clothing

Bulimia Nervosa

Someone binges and purges as a form of controlling body image and weight.

• worried about body image and weight • eating a large amount of food at once • using the restroom after eating • damaged teeth • sores in mouth and hands • raspy voice

Binge Eating Disorder

Someone who loses control when eating, often to experience guilt and shame afterwards.

• eating often and a lot • dieting without weight loss • lack of control when eating • depression • anxiety • hoarding food

What To Do:

Toll free ConÞdential Hotline through NationalEatingDisorders.org: 1-800-931-2237 Text "NEDA" to 741741

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TING DISORDERS

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My Long Journey to a Better Me

by Hannah GonzaleZ

I’d like to begin my stating a few

dimmed the lights, lit my favorite

facts about myself. The amount of

scented candles, and plopped myself

carbs I intake daily exceeds the

in the center of my bed, criss cross

recommended quantity by a shameful

applesauce style. If you’re anything

amount, I stepped foot inside of a

like me, you relate to Lena Dunham’s

gym once and left after four minutes,

attempt at meditating in more ways

and from the time I wake to the time I

than one. It’s hellish at first as your

fall asleep, anxiety lingers above me

mind is prone to wandering, but then

as a reminder of all the stress I try to

I thought “why not?” It’s ok to release

repress. With that being said, I’m

your worries, your what-ifs and even

painfully aware a change is needed.

your goals, as long as you’re

!

Subjecting myself to a trial run of physical and mental remedies was my attempt at making the disbelievers, including myself, acknowledge that this stuff actually works. For seven days straight, I tested out three at-home remedies that claim to be suited for those just entering the world of mental and physical serenity.

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once each day, I felt a connection with myself. Being candid with myself in a silent, honest setting slowly did wonders for my self-esteem and sanity through removing the pressure I bury myself under.

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Next, yoga. !

I was finally able to put to use the pink yoga mat that collected dust in a

Let’s start with the most common

corner of my room. After unraveling it

tactic: meditation.

and propping my laptop up across

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I aimed to complete the whole aesthetic that follows meditating; I

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releasing them. After practicing this

from me, I searched for some at home yoga lessons. “Yoga tutorials

for beginners,” I typed in Youtube's

become more involved in your

search bar. Before me was a

physical health is one that must go.

collection of 40 minutes to hour long

Truth is, I ate a lot, and by a lot I

videos; “yeah, this isn’t for me,” I

mean purse was filled with

thought. Just as I was about to find

tupperware that I purchased

an alternative physical practice, I

specifically for this experiment. Each

found a video titled “Yoga For

of these container held compact

Complete Beginners - Relaxation &

portions of snacks. I treated myself

Flexibility Stretches 15 Minute Yoga

to medleys of fruits, cheese

Workout.” 15 minutes- that’s do able.

assortments, almonds and cashews,

I admit, at first, I found the

colorful salads; I’ve been eating it all.

instructors “too soothing” of a voice

After doing my homework, I learned

to be rather garish, but it quickly

the obvious: protein is crucial, so I

grew on me.

stuck to this idea. Truth be told, I

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The video is ideal for anyone intimidated with this process; it moves at a slow pace, describes each move while informing you of its benefit and really puts you in a trance as if you were surrounded by 20 other yogis taking the class alongside you. By the end of the

wish I had done this much sooner.

Not only did I get an unfamiliar surge of energy, but the world seemed brighter. My morning commute became less dull, talking with friends became more lively and my nap count reduced tremendously.

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Though I only practiced three tactics

week, I strongly considered

to boost my mental and physical

reopening my gym membership and

strength, it’s important to remember

had nearly six pairs of yoga pants in

this is only the beginning. If you too

my Lululemon cart.

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Thirdly, I ate — a lot. !

are someone who wants to take the

The misconception that we must

did while adding some steps that are

starve ourselves when intending to

personal to you!

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first steps in bettering yourself, I strongly encourage you follow what I

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All the World’s a Stage... and everyone is staring at you.

Anonymous A young girl dreams of becoming a ballerina. She pictures herself walking onto the vast stage, the warmth of the spotlight spreading to the tips of her toes. Her sparkling white tutu catches the light and spreads a fractured rainbow on each surface. She feels beautiful, and nothing can contradict this. This is the fantasy of a child. The innocence of youth is a protective bubble that will eventually be penetrated by the social demands of today’s world.

“The body cannot lie. You cannot be somebody else onstage, no matter how good of an actor or dancer or singer you are. When you open your arms, move your finger, the audience knows who you are, you know.”

-

Mikhail Baryshnikov

From the time, I started ballet to the time I quit, I always loved the stage. It was the people watching me that were my enemy. They were looking for my every mistake, blemish, and fault that I would make. I fell prisoner to their opinions. Every move I made, was being scrutinized, and I was squashed under the audience’s magnifying glass.

“Nothing is more revealing than movement.” - Martha Graham

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I trained in ballet for thirteen years. After my freshman year of high school, I quit. I had a general list of excuses: I’m too busy, I want to explore other options, too many injuries, etc. These were to please people, and because I was lying to myself about the real reasons. I wasn’t going to tell people that every time I put on a leotard I tried different ways of sucking my stomach in so I wouldn’t look fat. I would never tell them that when I came home from school I would consider not eating. Then, I would eat so much that I would spend almost an hour on my knees in the bathroom, trying to throw up. People didn’t need to know that when I looked in the mirror during my class, all I could see were the flaws.

I was never overweight, but I wasn’t skinny either. I loved to eat, and everyone knew it. So much so, that every time I sat down for a meal I would get badgered about what I was consuming. I began to depend on food to make myself feel better. I would eat at restaurants and the servers would comment on how little my body was, and how it was crazy how I could eat so much. At family gatherings, I would get teased about having a whole serving dish to myself. Each time, I would feel worse. I would skip meals and then be so hungry that I would eat until I got sick. It was an endless routine, and it wore me down every day.

“To dance is to live.”

- Isadora Duncan Everything became a criticism. “Your steps are heavy,” meant an hour by the toilet. “Are you going to eat all of that?” was a day of starvation. “You sound like an elephant when you walk,” became a day in front of the mirror, poking and prodding.

I loved to dance, but I don’t anymore. If you ask me, I’ll lie and say it’s because of injuries, but that’s not the truth. The truth is ballet isn’t what made me hate my body. It was everyone around me. My friends, my family, social media; they put an image in my head of what I should look like.

“The main thing is dancing, and before it withers away from my body, I will keep dancing till the last moment, the last drop.” Rudolf Nureyev I will keep dancing, but it will be a constant battle with my body and my mind to do what I once loved.

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Anxiety is a component of nearly any

One form of trait anxiety is known as

person’s life. Certain circumstances may

Ògeneralized anxiety disorderÓ or GAD.

affect a person’s reaction to a situation

According to the Anxiety and Depression

and catalyze feelings of panic or worry,

Association of America, GAD is

which can be referred to as state anxiety.

characterized by “persistent and

State anxiety is circumstantial and is

excessive worry about a number of

caused by external stimuli. For example,

things,Ó and those with GAD Òmay expect

a person can become easily anxious if

the worst even when there is no apparent

they’re too close to the edge of a cliff, or

reason for concern.Ó This would include

a child could become anxious if they get

Þxation on things like work, school,

lost in a grocery store. Basically, it’s the

h e a l t h , f a m i l y, o r m o n e y t o a n

stimulation of the autonomic nervous system, which is responsible for the ÒÞght or ßightÓ instincts. Most i m p o r t a n t l y, i t ’s temporary.

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IF CAN BE A DANGEROUS WORD BY LILI MAC

unreasonable extent.

Life’s variables come at rapid Þre speed, and for some it is all too much to handle or perhaps to even comprehend.

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However, those with a more chronic state

I was more or less diagnosed with GAD

of worry and stress have trait anxiety.

by my family’s psychiatrist. A person with

This could be a person who has serious

GAD (which is often accompanied by

problems having face to face interactions

depression) will Þxate more on the

with others or someone who frequently

possibility of failure, so much so that

experiences panic attacks without overtly

failure becomes, in that person’s mind,

traumatic triggers. This sort of anxiety is

inevitable. The most seemingly mundane

not temporary, but it can be treated or

situations can send the brain snowballing

assuaged with therapy, medication, and

into an absurd line of cause and effect.

other coping mechanisms.

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!

Here’s an example of this: I had to do

diverse and whose graduation should

a huge, complex science project that

not be contingent upon a skill set only

was required by my high school to

a portion of the student population

graduate. I am terrible at science, and

possesses. Yet that wasn’t completely

when I realized the caliber of research

clear to me at the time. Going through

that was expected, I short-circuited. If

the motions with GAD, I was the one

I didn’t do this project well, I would get

to blame. I was the dunce. Literally

a failing grade, and if I failed, I

anyone who graduated from my high

wouldn’t graduate, and if I didn’t

school completed this project, but I

graduate, I wouldn’t go to college, and if I didn’t go to college, I wouldn’t get a job, and if I didn’t get a job, I wouldn’t become successful, and if I didn’t become successful, I would

couldn’t seem to even

IF

fathom it. I was the fuck-up. I, and I alone, am responsible for becoming homeless because I am not competent enough.

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This may seem like an absurd way to think,

become homeless and die, cold and

and an even more absurd way to live,

alone. This was (and, at times, still is) a

but that absurdity is at times very real

natural line of thought - that the

to me and to many others. As far as

smallest mistakes will tip the scale of

dealing with it, there’s meds, there’s

life into full-on entropy.

therapy, and then there’s just holding

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onto what’s real, what’s really

Looking back now, I can recognize

happening and not what might. It’s

that my high school had an unrealistic

avoiding the constant If. And If can be

expectation of their of their student

a very, very dangerous word.

body, one which is intellectually

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RUNNING ON EMPTY! ! ! ! !

BY ANONYMOUS

It was Þnally the day IÕd been waiting for. Adorned in my old, familiar black Nikes, a high school tennis hoodie, and leggings, I set off down the hill by my house. It was a fairly cold December afternoon, but it didnÕt matter to me- I was able to run again for the Þrst time in months. With my usual mix of alternative and hip-hop music blasting, I started off in a slow, light jog down the bike trail near my house. A thin mist and fog Þlled my lungs with every breath I took. The rain picked up more by the time I reached my halfway point, and then I realizedÉ I need to listen to my favorite workout song.

Then, I selected ÒGonna Fly NowÓ from the Rocky soundtrack. ThatÕs when I kicked it into full gear. With the freezing rain pouring at this point, I sped and glided by way up a hill with its broken pavement. Tears of pure joy welled up in my eyes as I made it up the mountainous hill. And just like Rocky, I had gone the distance. ! !

Prior to this recent October, my workouts were a journey for me. Running past the usual neighborhood scenery was a new and unique experience for me every time.

But after a while, my body began to take a toll on me. In mid-October, I began to feel terrible, sharp, shooting pain in my lower back. Even after quitting working out for a few days, the pain progressively became worse. It got to the point when I woke up one morning, unable to walk, bawling from the pain, and I had to miss school. I also began to secretly use my old hydrocodone, that was prescribed to me after my wisdom teeth were removed, in order to take away some of the pain. ! !

My parents scheduled me an appointment with a spine doctor shortly after. Xrays and MRIs were taken of my back. The screens and photos showed a spine, broken up like an undone jigsaw puzzle. I had two spine fractures in my lower spine, which caused the pain, along with a herniated disc in the middle of my back, and mild scoliosis curving to the right.! !

My doctor told me that there was a very low chance that my spine would heal, even with the aids of braces and medication. Despite this, I was still put in a large, ugly, bulky, plastic back brace through the middle of December. What killed me the most though was the fact that my exercise capability had been reduced to sitting on the exercise bike and walking on the treadmill. I also had to do physical therapy. I was crushed and almost cried in the doctorÕs ofÞce. It was like taking heroin away from a junkie.

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Depressed and without motivation, I felt like I was pointless and a waste of space if I couldn’t be physically active. I was still in pain too, and my hydrocodone use became frequent. I always felt sick and distant from the rest of the world while on the drug, but I became dependent for a while because the pain was so bad. I would eat nothing or very little because my appetite was diminished. Throwing up from the drug’s sickness was also a constant Þxture of my life. It also didnÕt help that the big, bulky brace made me appear very large and awkward at school, when I know deep down that I am somewhat attractive. I have fought with depression before this, but drug dependency was a different kind of low for me. I maybe worked out twice in my brace to the best of my ability, but for the most part, I just sat there useless. ! !

My body was trapped in a tight, heavy brace. My mind was trapped by hydro.! !

For the most part, nobody knew of my hydro use. However, one of my best friends caught on after a while. Whenever he would FaceTime me from his college, I tended to always be on hydro. At Þrst he didnÕt think much of it, but after a while, he became extremely judgmental and even mean about my dependency. As I realized my relationships with friends were ripping at the seams, it snapped me out of my dependency a little bit. I was hard for me to be intimate and genuine to even my closest friends while on the drug. I knew I needed to change after my friend left me in tears.! !

It was difÞcult, but I quit using hydro for my back pain by my back brace release date of December 21st. A CT scan showed that my back did not heal at all, but I didn’t care. I just have to take care of and keep tabs on my back problems for the rest of my life. But, I was ready for my freedom to do what I wanted with my body again. I was done with the brace and the constant hospital, doctor, and physical therapy visit. Done with the meds. And most of all, done with feeling useless. ! !

December 22nd was the day. I was going to exercise again. I was frightened and timid of what my back could do while on a run. Was it going to give out on me? Would I be in extreme pain tomorrow? But, I guess I just had to Þnd out. So, I strapped on those old, familiar Nikes, and ran out the front door. It was day one of my new body, and new outlook of Þghting my depression, dependency, and anxiety of the past few months. So, my feet hit the pavement and I was off. !

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“Merits”

Emily Wilkinson

Factored into the equation of a modern corporation, where commerce confines the cogs into ticky tacky boxes, while the ticky tacky bosses judge their cubicles based off merits, the girl in cubicle seven had panic attacks.

In her tiny meritocracy, walking lines of mediocrity, she’s intertwined with this atrocity, living authentically or cautiously.

The girl from cubicle seven fought to breathe.

Everything was alright, or at least she thought it ought to be, and knew she’d end up fine.

Her heart rate slows in anxiety’s throws.

She sees the boy from cubicle nine.

Now, one cubicle between them, Seven saw her double.

Although a stumble over him must’ve doubly asked for trouble, and all the “7 8 9” jokes would make anyone uncomfortable, the girl from cubicle seven still thought that he was wonderful, and he was worthy of merit.

In such an oddly shaped equation, the sum of seven and nine just felt so… even.

But this numbers game did a number on her brain always told since she was younger that real strength came in numbers.

But this girl didn’t want to be just another nine-day wonder.

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So Seven made her play at the dawn of the seventh day.

Dressed to the nines, pressed on a smile, and said, “Hey.” And Cubicle Nine said, “Hi.” And for a moment he was more than his merits and just like any other guy.

He put her in seventh heaven, and she’d go after him with all nine lives.

But she wondered if he’d be as careless too, if conformity drove him into hysterics too, and this corporate collectivism only fit a fairish few.

She wondered if he saw her for more than her merits too.

And if she knew, she would’ve told him taking seven away from nine, they would still be left with cherished two.

But immediately the girl from cubicle seven felt her heart rate quicken.

The boy went back to cubicle nine as her anxiety sickened.

The girl bid farewell as the boy walked away, told herself “things happen,” to try again another day.

It only took a bit wonder, seeing merits walk a different way, and that although their days were far from numbered, love was only one ticky tacky box away.

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Credits Natalie Day - Founder, Designer, and Editor

Natalie is currently a freshman at Columbia College Chicago where she is studying acting and

journalism. She is originally from Omaha, Nebraska. She is so happy to be a part of providing a

platform to discuss issues that aren’t always talked about in daily life and hopes that the words of this magazine affect at least someone.

Carsen Schroeder - Founder, Designer, and Editor

Carsen is from Overland Park, Kansas. She is currently a freshman at Columbia College

Chicago as an acting major. Carsen has also been a dancer for many years and loves anything to do with the stage. She has always been a storyteller and has been writing as a hobby for

many years. She is very happy to provide an outlet for people to tell their stories and discuss these important topics that we avoid so much.

Contributors:

Other Credits:

Rachel Flynn

Lili Mac Photography

Natalie Day

Fonts for Peas

Hannah Gonzalez Julia Kender Erin Kruger Colin Lenberg Lili Mac Carsen Schroeder Emily Wilkinson

Coming Up Next Issue: Drugs and Alcohol