When it comes to mental illness, many people often find it tough to get the help they need. This is especially true for young students making the transition(过渡) to college life.

    “Sometimes, students don't realize how hard it is to adjust to college,” said Laura Smith, associate dean of students at the University of Texas at Dallas. “You're not the big fish in your classes anymore; you have all kinds of personal stress; you're away from home. Dealing with these things is not easy.”

    Students who are going through these problems sometimes want to reach out. But if students don't feel comfortable seeking help, many feel that it's the responsibility of their university to help them.

    “I really wish that there was more importance placed on how counseling(咨询) centers help students,” said Comnie Trinh. “Counseling services are just as important as academics and sports.”

    Trinh, 27, graduated from Texas Woman's University in 2015. During college, she hosted various workshops on how to handle mental health conditions. Trinh used her own story to connect with students who might be facing similar problems. High academic pressures, cultural differences as an Asian American and stressful social situations stood out as some of the most common causes of Trinh's anxiety.

    It was only after years of personal problems that she could admit that reaching out isn't a sign of weakness.

    ”If you feel you can't connect with other people around you, you should address the issue without shame,” Trinh said. “You'll find that there are a lot of people out there who sincerely want to help you.”

    Blue Planet II's latest episode focuses on how plastic is having a disastrous effect on the ocean and slowly poisoning our sea creatures. Researchers recently also found that sea creatures living in the deepest place on Earth, the Mariana Trench, have plastic in their stomachs. Indeed, the oceans are drowning in plastic.

    Though it seems now that the world couldn't possibly function without plastics, consumer plastics are a remarkably recent invention. The first plastic bags were introduced in the 1950s; the same decade that plastic packaging began gaining in popularity in the United States. This growth has happened so fast that science is still catching up with the change. Plastics pollution research, for instance, is still a very early science.

    We put all these plastics into the environment and we still don't really know what the outcomes are going to be. What we do know, though, is disturbing. Ocean plastic is estimated to kill millions of marine animals every year. Nearly 700 species, including endangered ones, are known to have been affected by it. One in three leatherback turtles, which often mistake plastic bags for jellyfish, have been found with plastic in their bellies. Ninety percent of seabirds are now eating plastics on a regular basis. By 2050, that figure is expected to rise to 100 percent.

    And it's not just wildlife that is threatened by the plastics in our seas. Humans are consuming plastics through the seafood we eat. I could understand why some people see ocean plastic as a disaster, worth mentioning to the same degree as climate change. But ocean plastic is not as complicated as climate change. There are no ocean trash deniers (否认者), at least so far. To do something about it, we don't have to remake our planet energy system.

This is not a problem where we don't know what the solution is. We know how to pick up garbage. Anyone can do it. We know how to dispose (处理) of it. We know how to recycle. We can all start by thinking twice before we use single—use plastic products. Things that may seem ordinary, like using a reusable bottle or a reusable bag—when taken collectively, these choices really do make a difference.

    In America, the number of people killed in car crashes in 2016 was above 40, 000 for the first time in a decade, data released on Wednesday shows.

    "Americans believe there is nothing we can do to stop crashes from happening, but that isn't true. We are behind the rest of the developed world in addressing highway fatalities(死亡). We just haven't been willing to do what needs to be done, "said Deborah A. P. Hersman, president of the National Safety Council.

    The National Safety Council data shows a 6 percent increase in deaths in 2018 when compared with 2015 and a 3 percent increase in the number of miles Americana drove in 2016.

    "Motor vehicle fatality numbers have been ringing the alarm for two years, "Hersman said." Unfortunately, we have been blind to the data and the killings on our roadways. If we fail to take action, the death tell will continue to rise. "

    "The trend is clear：After years of progress, highway deaths are heading in the wrong direction, "said Jonathan Adkins, a state safety official.

    The number of people killed reached a record low of 32, 675 in 2014, according to NHTSA statistics. That record followed a fairly steady downward track for the past six years that experts attributed it primarily to safety features that have been built into cars and trucks.

    Safety advances including increased seat-belt use, air bags, anti-lock braking, stability controls and electronic warnings and cameras.

    The bad economy and high gas prices also influenced the reduction in deaths. Now, with unemployment and gas prices both low, more people are driving for work and pleasure trips.

    "It's not just that Americans drive more miles when the economy improves; it's the kind of miles they drive,"said Adrian Lund, president of the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety.

    Knowing a little first aid could be life-saving if you see someone lying unconscious.

    Too often people don't do anything because they think they will kill the patient, but by learning simple rules you could make the difference between life and death.

    First, you need to find out if they're unconscious, asleep or drunk, by squeezing the skin between their neck and shoulder and shouting. If there is no response at all, you need to establish if they are dead or just unconscious—sometimes it's very difficult to tell the difference.

    Open the airway by placing one hand on their forehead and gently tilting the head back while lifting the chin.

    If there are no signs of life—no obvious pulse and their chest is not going up and down—call an ambulance and then start cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) (心脏复苏) to maintain (获得) a flow of oxygenated blood to the brain and heart.

    Do this by pushing up and down on the centre of the chest, with your hands interlocked together, constantly until an ambulance arrives.

    Push at a rate of 100 beats a minute. You can't harm them doing this and might just save a life.

    "Dad," I say one day, "Let's take a trip. Why don't you fly and meet me?"

    As a manager from IBM, my father's job filled his day, his thought, his life. While he woke up and took a warm shower, I had fun under the Eiffel Tower. While he tied a tie and put on the same Swiss watch, I rowed a boat across Lake of the Ozarks.

    My father sees me travelling without a purpose, nothing to show for my 33 years but a passport full of funny stamps. He wants me to settle down (安定下来), but now I want him to explore the world.

    He agrees and we meet four weeks later in Rapid City.

    "What is our first stop?" asks my father.

    "What time is it?"

    "Still don't have a watch?"

    Less than an hour away is Mount Rushmore. As he looks up at sculptures of the four Presidents in granite(花岗岩), his mouth and eyes open slowly, like those of little boy.

    "Amazing," he says, "How was this done?"

    A film in the information center shows sculptor(雕塑家) Gutzon Borglum devoted 14 years to the sculptures.

    We look up and I ask myself, "Can I devote my life to anything?"

    No directions, no purpose. I always used to hear those words in my father's voice. Now I hear them in my own.

    The next day we're at Yellowstone National Park, where we have a picnic.

"Did you ever travel with your dad?" I ask.

    "Only once," he says. "I never spoke much with my father. We loved each other—but never said it. Whatever he could give me, he gave."

    The last sentence—it's probably the same thing I will say about my father. And what I want my child to say about me.

    In Glacier National Park, my father says, "I've never seen water so blue." I have, in several places of the world. I can keep traveling. I realize— and maybe a fixed job won't be as boring as I think.

    Weeks after our trip, I call my father. "The photos from the trip are wonderful," he says. "We have got to take another trip like that sometime." I tell him I've decided to settle down and find a fixed job, and I'm wearing a watch.

    I didn't know how to say no, and was afraid to tell people what I wanted. Instead, I got myself tangled (纠结的) in a web of obligations, anxiety, and white lies.

    The worst thing was that I didn't even realize what I was doing. I thought I knew how to say "no"—but couldn't remember the last time I had. Like a lot of people, I just wanted to be accepted, appreciated, loved—and that the only way to get those things was to put everyone else's needs before my own.

    I never seemed to have time for things I really wanted to do. I'd like to learn Spanish, write more fiction, and travel. These aren't huge, unrealistic goals. And yet, my people-pleasing ways dramatically cut into my free time to pursue these desires.

    But recently, I decided I'd had enough. As an experiment, I began standing up for myself, even at the risk of alienating (使疏远) myself from everyone and having my entire life come crashing down around me. Several days ago, a good friend asked me to go for coffee at 5 p.m. I was planning to hit the gym and then binge—watch Mad Men for the millionth time. I said, "Sorry, I've got things I want to do tonight." She said, "That's fine. Maybe another time." It was all so painfully simple that I wanted to cry.

    Saying "no" is so much easier. If someone asks me to do something I have zero interest in, I'm polite but honest. "I'm sorry, I don't think that's really for me." The words slip out my mouth faster than some other lame excuses.

    Learning how to say "no" has added several extra hours to my days, days to my weeks, and what feels like months to my years. I no longer have to back-burner my plans to help friends with their job search, or set aside a weekend to read a book draft by someone I barely know. Saying "no" has set me free.