Dimensions

By: Andreas Lymberis

    College is a war, fighting to submit that assignment before the due date, battling the urge to do anything else besides studying, trudging through social circles, and struggling to find that one internship that will reply back to your application. As college students fight this four-year war, they are faced with another one, dealing with the effects that these things, and the things that come with being a human being, have on one's mental health. Analyzing the faces walking between Dealy Hall and Hughes on Fordham's campus, smiles seemed to be a spreadable disease, only seen moving throughout large groups and pairs of people walking by. Everyone else walking alone had the same emotionless face that seemed to be on autopilot as the only thing on their mind was going to their next class or location. However, this could not be the only thing on their mind.

    As I sat in my dimly lit apartment, head resting on my futon, staring at the texture of my ceiling, I remembered my friend Billy inviting me to a Men's Mental Health Union meeting. The meeting was on a Friday at 6 pm, an unusual time as Friday evenings were usually used in preparation for going out. However, a good amount of people showed up, all with the same emotionless facial expressions. It was the same one I had on, one that showed the uncertainty of going to a meeting about dealing with our deepest emotions and feelings that we never really express to others, but my straight face turned into a smile when I saw Billy smiling at me from the back of the room. The setting in the room mirrored what I saw outside on campus: groups sitting together smiling, like Billy and I, and then isolated individuals sitting by themselves with that expressionless look, waiting for the meeting to begin. Turning to Billy, I asked if he knew what today's meeting would be about, to which he replied, "I don't know man, mental health maybe?" I would normally laugh, but my smile went away, and now I felt what every other person was: anxiety about speaking about the things you refuse to tell others about. As a man, mental health was something not talked about, but with the first slide appearing on the board, that was about to change for every member of the room.

    Slides went by, discussing the close-interknit qualities of the club and the different events that would take place, which was typical for the first meeting of a new club. Soon, slides became hypnotizing; the circle of the dimensions of wellness put the audience in a trance; everyone seemed to try and calculate how each dimension should be tweaked in themselves, or if one should be prioritized, or if another was already a part of them. The importance of confidentiality was discussed; this confidentiality seemed almost like a reverse straight jacket of sorts, others placing it onto you to protect you from yourself, to help you express yourself from something you had refused to speak of for so long. The club leader proposed a question as the last slide appeared on the screen.

"Any questions?"

    To which a long pause followed. People looked around at each other, the ceiling, and the walls. I looked at Billy, and he was looking at a wall. I tried to think of a question, but a million things started racing through my mind: Do I break the silence? Should I talk about my thoughts? What is everyone else thinking about? Before I could think of another thought, someone yelled out.

"Yeah, where is the pizza?"

    The leader pointed toward the front of the class, where boxes of pizzas sat, and surprisingly, everyone sprinted to the front to start eating. Soon, everyone was speaking to each other. Pizza broke the ice. Pizza lit up all the previously emotionless faces, and now discussions occurred.

*In writing this essay I wanted to use Michael Herr’s new journalism approach to talk about something I had recently observed and talk more about topics found in the readings from class. Reporting on this matter, I added my own personal thoughts and feelings just as Herr did as he reported on the Vietnam War. I additionally added Herr’s style of using imagery and description to help set up the emotion present in certain moments.