Remy Dhami
Bio
In order to change the future, we must first accept the past.
Stories (20)
Filter by community
Let’s Talk About Coming Out
When I came out, I felt so free. Like, in all honesty, I felt better in a way that I’d never felt before. It was like the weight of knowing but feeling too upset or being too deep in my own denial to acknowledge it was gone. And it was shockingly easy.
By Remy Dhami6 years ago in Humans
How It Feels To Attend University When You Have Depression
I've had depression since I was 16. I wasn't formally diagnosed with it until I was 19. But when I described the symptoms, which had been so painfully consistent for so painfully long, I rolled back the years in my head and realised just how long it had been. Three years. I hadn't just been sad. I'd actually been depressed. This year, I have seen my mental health spiral massively for reasons I'm not sure I understand, still, this far along. And I've started to genuinely realise how hard I've found it to attend university. Sometimes I become numb to these things. I forget my struggles because it seems people don't want me to have them. I forget my feelings because they so often don't seem to matter. But now I'm alone, it seems I can muse on them more intensely. So, a typical Uni day from January until term finished looked like this.
By Remy Dhami6 years ago in Psyche
Politics and Actual, Honest To God Friendships
This story starts with a friend that I no longer have. Nothing happened to this individual. I just cut him off when I reached the end of my tether, and the story of how I did that, although it was something I should have done a long time ago and I readily acknowledge that, actually begins with the death of George Floyd.
By Remy Dhami6 years ago in The Swamp
The Carousel Of Dreams
Under a dark oak apple tree, in a green land far from here, stood a young girl with eyes as green as the grass, hair like the sunshine, and a quixotic mind. This young girl was named Annie, and despite her dreamer’s imagination and talent for storytelling which drew everyone in the land into her, she was desperately sad. Annie had lost her parents a few years earlued. They were dead, and she was now alone, with nothing but her stories and the apple tree. On a cloudy day, when the sky was iron grey and the air was heavy with malaise all across the country, Annie heard a woman’s voice as she was sat under the tree. Follow me, whispered the voice softly. Annie mused that it could have been the wind, or in her head, but she decided to follow nonetheless, through the red-bricked lanes into the empty villages, across the fields of black earth and wheat, stretching into the pale horizon where land meets sky. Eventually, it lead her to a bright silver roundabout, illuminated like a star, in the shape of an old-fashioned carousel. It was completely silent, other than a soft chime. The voice whispered to Annie that she had one wish she could make. One wish. That was all. Annie thought long and hard about what she wanted most. Finally, she spoke, in a voice broken with emotion, to ask for her parents back. The carousel split open, and out from it stepped Annie’s parents, as though they had been in there the whole time. Annie was overjoyed, and so began to walk with them back to the village. But her parents soon began to wilt and fade - they were no longer of this world, and slowly became a heap of silvery-grey glitter on the shadowy pathway. Annie sunk next to her parents and cried, devastated that they’d left her again. As she did so, one of her tears fell onto the dust. It rapidly began to spin around and take a shape, the shape of a tall, beautiful woman, with long flowing hair and immense gold-tinted wings. She bent down, and told Annie in a voice shimmering with compassion, that there had been a curse on her family - a curse dooming all of the women of the family to die young. But because Annie found the carousel of dreams, she said, and made a selfless wish, the curse was broken now.
By Remy Dhami6 years ago in Futurism
Here’s what I, a sufferer of a mental illness, want to tell you
I’m angry. I feel deserted by society, and I’m angry. People keep claiming they don’t understand mental illness until a designated day of the year, or until some pretty celebrity writes something on Instagram. So here, I plan to make you understand it, once and for all:
By Remy Dhami6 years ago in Psyche
