Wife, mom of 3 beautiful children, dog lover, creative sole and children's book Author. Sharing my journey with depression and anxiety through blogging in hopes of educating and ending the stigma.
Today, I am honouring the strength and resilience of those living with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder on this, “National PTSD Awareness Day.”
PTSD is a mental illness, one of many that are often misunderstood. Many people who suffer from PTSD suffer behind a brave face, in silence, and too afraid to speak up due to the stigma attached.
I am here to tell you that no matter its cause, whether from being witness to or experiencing a traumatic event yourself, its impact is oh so real.
Trauma does not discriminate, and neither does PTSD. Nor should it ever be seen as a weakness.
Today and every day, PTSD deserves understanding, empathy, compassion, kindness, and a listening ear; without judgment.
Let today be a reminder to anyone suffering with PTSD that you are seen, that you are not alone, that it’s okay to not be okay, that you are enough, and that your story and healing journey matter.
If you or anyone you know is struggling, please reach out for support. Help is always available.
In Canada and the US, please call 9-8-8.
Feel free to share my post to bring as much awareness as we can today, and together, let’s end the stigma.
Seeing ABBAMANIA at the summer “Concerts in the Park” is my favourite summertime ritual. There’s just something about ABBA’s music that hits a chord deep inside me like nothing else can (I’ve seen the musical Mamma Mia 8x).
I truly can’t explain it. Their music just gets me – every time.
Yup, my emotions were in overdrive tonight.
Mamma mia, here I go again My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again? My, my, just how much I’ve missed you?
Yesterday was my birthday. I was truly thankful to everyone who reached out to wish me a happy birthday. It always makes the day feel just a little bit lighter.
Birthdays are supposed to feel joyful and celebratory. The truth is, though, for the past 11 consecutive birthdays, living with depression, I have quietly carried a heavy guilt on my shoulders. It silently screams at me, “You should feel grateful,” when, inside, I’m actually feeling overwhelmed and sad.
With depression and anxiety always nearby, it can be super draining. This year, I felt a particular heaviness in my heart on the day of my birthday and even on the days leading up to it. Over time, though, I have learned to celebrate in ways that feel more manageable for me. Birthdays don’t always need to be big and loud to feel joyful and meaningful.
My survival is its own kind of celebration. I can hold space for my sadness and overwhelm and still honour my day in my own way, at my own pace.
Last night was just that, and just enough. A birthday dinner with Rich and our 3 kids.The people who matter most to me. We shared a meal, stories, and laughter and made memories together. Being present, catching up, and in the moment.
I finally made it to the Nova Festival exhibition today, on its very last day.
I wanted to go sooner, but the truth is, my anxiety kept holding me back. It does that often, even for things that are important to me. Thankfully, though, the regret of not going became a far greater force, which allowed me to push through, and I’m so glad I did. So, too, was Rich.
I’m still processing the weight of today, in the most raw and powerful and healing way.
What I witnessed today will stay with me forever. The pain and unbearable loss of so many innocent lives stolen. The music that was silenced. The joy that was taken in an instant. The sheer disregard for human life. The terror. It is pure evil.
What I witnessed today as well as we walked through the exhibit, reading every story, seeing every photograph and memory of those who didn’t survive, seeing every item on display from the festival, watching every video recorded in real time, and hearing every voice of those who survived that tragic day was a tribute to humanity, resilience, strength, courage, community, a place of shared values, and a light in the darkness – giving hope that we will dance again.
We also got to hear another live testimonial, too by one of the many remarkable festival survivors. Her story was both heartbreaking and inspiring. I was mesmerized by her bravery, her strength, and her beauty. Getting to meet her afterward and giving her a big hug was such an honour.
This exhibit was “a sacred space of grief, remembrance, and strength.” As heart-wrenching as it was, the truth must be told. The denial must be stopped. We owe it to the victims, to the survivors, and to our future as Jews to continue sharing their stories around the world.
This afternoon, we were to attend Rachel’s university graduation ceremony. When she completed her final presentation back in April, earning her a well-deserved degree in interior design, this very proud mama couldn’t contain her excitement and immediately chose to share her amazing achievement with a blog.
Around the same time, Rachel let us know the date of her graduation ceremony, which I quickly marked off on my calendar. I couldn’t wait to see my baby all dressed in her cap and gown, walking across the stage to collect her diploma. A moment in time that was sadly stolen from us back in 2020 when her high-school graduation was canceled due to Covid.
Graduations are meant to be a celebration of hard work and accomplishments, so when Rachel told us a few weeks ago that she was not planning to attend her ceremony, it crushed me. Only in recent days did she share with us her actual truth as to why she made the decision not to go. I understood and admired her strength for standing by her values. Admittedly, though, I was still crushed, but by now, it was on a much deeper level.
Since October 7, 2023, antisemitism has dramatically surged around the world, with several university campuses in Toronto playing a key role in it. One of them being the university she attended.
During the last year or so, Rachel had expressed her feelings to us about being uncomfortable when on campus, sometimes concerned for her safety and needing to hide her religious expression. It is a cruel reality that speaks to so many of us.
Regardless of whether or not Rachel chose to walk across that stage today to receive her diploma, they can never take away what is rightfully hers. Every project completed, every challenge she pushed through, including spending her first 2 years online, no one can take that away. She earned it.
Your feelings are your own, and you have every right to feel them, especially if something doesn’t sit well in your heart. As your mom, I am truly proud of your courage and resilience and for recognizing that, in good conscience, you could not stand quietly in a place where antisemitism is tolerated or how you felt you could not be celebrated “in a space that made you feel erased”. You were blessed, though, to have had the support and mentorship of a fellow Jew as one of your professors. Someone who shared in the hurt helped at times to ease the hurt.
No matter the situation, I am crushed that this moment was taken away from you (and me too!)…again, but I admire you for always standing your ground. I am also grieving for you today for what else has been taken away for a second time as well. First it was a once in a lifetime high school graduation trip that got canceled last minute due to Covid and now, an upcoming trip to Israel next month where you and a friend were to spend time volunteering. But I can promise you one thing. You will get back to Israel again, and when you do, She will be there, waiting for you, stronger than ever.
It was forty years ago this month that I graduated elementary school (grade 8), and the last time I strolled the halls of the place that shaped so much of my childhood.
I was born in Montreal but moved to Toronto (Thornhill) in 1979, a week before the start of third grade. I was a shy, scared 8 year old little girl in a strange city, who knew no one. It didn’t take me long, though, to settle into my new school, in a strange city, knowing no one. And for more than 40 years now, those halls have held a very special place in my heart.
Last night, as I entered those same corridors again after 40 years, alongside a very dear “old” friend to attend its 50th anniversary celebration, I wasn’t prepared for how much emotion would rise to the surface.
I was quickly drawn back, even if I was way outside my comfort zone. Drawn back to a rush of memories. Fun memories. Happy memories. Faded memories. Memories of friendship (some whom I’m still good friends with today), mentors, first kisses, slow dances, public speaking contests, track & field events, school trips, assemblies, puberty, fears, simplicity, curiosity, birthday parties, sleepovers, creative sparks, triumphs, sticker collections traded at recess, playground politics, schoolgirl giggles, and the innocence of childhood.
Seeing so many familiar faces (none of whom have aged one bit!) was like recognizing old parts of myself, parts of myself I have great affection for, but I also couldn’t help shake a feeling of sadness for missing the girl I once was.
Together, we wandered, in awe, through the unrecognizable corridors that have since been repainted many times over, walking along the tiled floors where carpet once lay, picturing ourselves sitting in those tiny desks in classrooms that once had no walls between them, climbing the gym apparatus that no longer exists, and reminiscing about our teachers—some of them I’m sure are long gone by now, but never forgotten. Some for making learning fun, some for their guidance and inspiration, some who made us feel seen, some who challenged us, who believed in us long before we knew how to believe in ourselves and some who were downright scary and mean!!
I could feel the presence of our Principal, Mr. Maunder following behind us down each hallway, calling us out by our last names while jingling the coins in his pant suit pockets. I spoke of my favourite teacher of all time, Mr. Armstrong with great affection, who I was lucky enough to have as my homeroom teacher for both grades 4 & 5. He left an impactful imprint on my heart.
Last night felt surreal. Powerful.
So much life happened for all of us inside that building. We were awkward, innocent kids, full of possibilities and dreams that hadn’t yet taken shape. But looking back now, as an adult, it was clear to me just how small that fraction of our lives truly was compared to the 40 years that have lapsed since. We’ve been through more graduations, marriages, divorces, childrearing, careers, illness, joy, and loss. Each one of us carrying a piece of our childhood with us on our own paths. Our own journeys; with our own messy, beautiful, unpredictable story to tell.
Was that shy, scared 8 year old little girl who entered a new school, in a new city, knowing no one proud of me for everything I’ve survived, or was the confident, thriving young teen who left the school upon graduation full of potential, in awe of how I continue to show up for the world, even on the hardest of days. Both of them were certain they had it all figured out back then.
I’m happy I stepped outside my comfort zone last night to attend my elementary school’s 50th anniversary celebration – reconnecting with old friends and classmates (most of whom, thanks to social media have been following my journey for some time now), taking a stroll down memory lane together in the place that shaped so much of our childhood and most of all, for getting to embrace the part of me who already believed that I was enough decades ago.
Yesterday, I spent the afternoon relaxing on our friend’s boat. Yesterday, my body and mind were craving the quiet, the fresh air, and the wind on my face.
Today, that same body and mind were craving a good hike. Today, they both needed a steady rhythm of movement, being one with nature and feeling the ground beneath my feet.
Both resting and hiking are equally important and healing for my mental and physical health.
Listening to our bodies and minds regularly is critical in maintaining proper self-care and overall well-being.
Staying attuned to the messages they are sending us and responding to them appropriately helps foster emotional regulation and balance. It lets us know when rest is needed, when it’s time to take a break, when it’s time to get moving, and even when extra support is needed.
Listening to our bodies and minds can also help to prevent burnout, chronic stress, anxiety, and illness.
What did you do this weekend to listen to your body and mind? What helps you check in with yourself?
After a really tiring few days, all I wanted to do last night was get some much needed rest. I was exhausted.
Was that too much to ask?
Well, apparently so, because my mind had other plans for me.
The more I tried to relax, the more riddled with anxiety I got. My thoughts quickly spiraled into a deep, dark rabbit hole.
It hit me out of nowhere as I lay in the quiet of my thoughts watching a movie. There was nothing I could do to stop it before the dam broke wide open. A flood of tears followed next. I felt like I was drowning in myself.
Every emotion was shouting at me, each one louder than the next. I couldn’t shut my brain off.
I was overwhelmed by feelings of grief, hate, disgust, shame, failure, loneliness and fear.
Rich comforted me until I calmed ❤️.
Today is “World Caring Day”.
Today I am choosing to take care of me.
Pushing the pause button.
I deserve gentleness.
Being kind to my heart.
Reminding myself that I am enough.
Embracing self-compassion.
One moment at a time.
Today I’m giving myself space to rest.
Breathe.
In the open skies, surrounded by water and dear friends.
“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is the rest we take between two deep breaths.” — Etty Hillesum
“If you wanna go fast, go alone, but if you wanna go far, go together.” ❤️ Celine Dion
As Rich drove home yesterday afternoon, bopping to Frank Sinatra tunes on his playlist, I took that opportunity to write down some of my thoughts and reflect upon the last 4 days on our 30th Anniversary #summerofrich adventure.
In doing so, I started to get very emotional – and anxious.
No big surprise.
This past week, Rich and I set out on an unforgettable journey we’d been dreaming about for 5 years now.
In four days, we hiked ten different trails along the Bruce Peninsula, one of them being the starting point of the 900 km Bruce Trail. Pretty cool. In all the years we’ve been exploring the Bruce Trail, this was our first time venturing to the Bruce Peninsula area. Unfortunately, we’ve never kept a running tally of how many kilometers we’ve actually completed over the last 7 or 8 years, but we are pretty certain we aren’t anywhere near the halfway point yet.
Along our travels this week, we met so many amazing people from all over the world (including from 2 cruise ships docked there for one day). Who would ever imagine that a community located at the northern tip of the Bruce Peninsula in Ontario, with a permanent population of under 100 residents year round could be such a popular tourist destination, but it is. During the peak tourist season from mid-June to the end of September, Tobermory is buzzing with non-stop tourism and seasonal residents, which the community thrives on. We learned from speaking with many of the locals, that those few months of the year is enough to sustain their livelihood so that somewhere between early October to early May (some later), the only 2 places you will find open are the LCBO (liquor store) and the local grocery store. That’s it! Not even a restaurant! Most residents leave the area for warmer climates and travel, and many others are students just there for the summer to earn their college or university tuition in tips!. As unfathomable as it sounds, it’s very intriguing, nonetheless!!
From the moment we left home Tuesday morning, we hit the ground running (well, hiking is more like it!). Our hearts were filled with excitement, and our car was packed with all the essentials, including simple meals and snacks to eat on the go, and lots of bug spray (which surprisingly we rarely needed!). We were energized and raring to go. Our jam-packed itinerary was well-researched, very detailed, and methodically thought out.
Our first 2 hikes on day 1 were just outside of Tobermory. First stop, Grieg’s Caves, which is a beautiful, well-maintained, privately owned trail. We had to sign a waiver before entering (that was definitely a first). It wasn’t a very long trail, which was a great way to ease into the week ahead. As we walked the wood chipped trail to the magical, massive caves, the scenic views made us feel like we were Dorothy following the Yellow Brick Road to see the great and powerful Oz, or in our case, the great and powerful geological phenomenons.
After we completed the hike, still in the same area, we headed to Lion’s Head Provincial Nature Reserve. If we were only to have had time to visit 3 trails during our trip, Lion’s Head would have been on that list for sure. The stunning views of Georgian Bay, the turquoise waters, and white limestone cliffs were breathtaking. We took lots of photos along the way and sat for a while to be present in the moment together. It was a longer trail, longer than all the other trails, but nothing we hadn’t done before. It’s estimated time on our All Trails app said it should take about 3 hours to complete. We took our time, but just around the 3 hour mark, I hurt myself. I don’t know how or what happened, to be honest. All I knew was that all of a sudden, I felt like I was paralyzed from the waist down. I could no longer stand up straight, and the pain in my upper thighs and lower back was excruciating. I literally started walking bent over to my right side, squeezing my waist and hips as tightly as I could to try and hold myself up. I needed to stop every 10 feet, rest my head between my legs, and take several, deep intentional breaths, just so I could make it another 10 feet. I was panicked, scared, in tears, and needing to throw up several times. I begged Rich to leave me there to die before our parking reservation expired! I just kept praying that a bear would come find me and eat me for supper as there was no other way out (there were signs all throughout the Bruce Peninsula warning of active bears, and rattlesnakes in the area).
No bear found me, and I did eventually make it back to the car TWO hours later. The trail felt like it would never end. I have been in excruciating and indescribable pain ever since, but the feeling of paralysis thankfully went away shortly after I got in the car and somehow I kept pushing through cuz I still had lots more adventures ahead. Although very scared it could happen again.
We headed straight to our accommodations next, which was still a half-hour drive from where we were. It was a perfect little one bedroom, newly renovated cabin attached to an Inn right on the main highway, in Tobermory. By now, it was getting late, well late for Tobermory standards since this time of year everything closes between 5 and 8pm. After we had a quick bite, we went to the on-site hot tub to try and relax our achy muscles. Something we continued to do every day after our hikes.
Day 2 started with a morning tour and history lesson aboard a glass bottom ferry to Flowerpot island. This was the second of my top three trails I couldn’t wait to see. Flowerpot Island is famous for its 2 rock pillars, lighthouse museums, and shipwrecks. It did not disappoint.
Once back from the island, we walked around the main strip for a bit to look at some of the local shops, got a scoop of ice cream, and then headed to our next trail. A bit more of a hidden gem. We saw several classes there on field trips (as was the case on quite a few of the trails). So much incredible history surrounding the formation of the Bruce Peninsula, dating back millions of years. We were all ears, wanting to learn as much as we could about its magnificence.
Afterward, we picked up subs, headed back to our cabin, and made a beeline right for the hot tub again. It started to cloud over, and they were calling for rain later that evening, but we still had one more hike on our agenda, which was to include a sunset trail at Singing Sands. We didn’t end up doing most of the trail and given the cloudy sky, we didnt get to see a beautiful sunset either, but we strolled peacefully along the boardwalk and walked the sand dunes which was still pretty cool.
By day 3, I was still in terrible pain and Rich’s already fragile knees were feeling the miles but we were excited for what we had planned for the day ahead, especially hike number 2, which happened to be my number one trail I was looking forward to the most. But first stop was on a trail called Halfway Log Dump. Pretty romantic sounding, am I right?
Well, I was wrong because parts of the trail leading to the rocky beach on a clear, warm summer day, I could envision how romantic it was as the gentle waves made it one of the most tranquil moments of the trip. We did, however decide to take a detour for part of the trail due to the heavy rainfall overnight and when we came to a section of extremely steep rocks that were slippery and wet it not worth either one of us sustaining further injuries. It was okay, though, as it left more time for us to explore our next trail, The Grotto.
What a stunning gem it was. Everything I hoped it would be and more. Rugged, yet peaceful as we climbed rocks and maneuvered our way through a maze of large boulders. It’s definitely the most challenging trail we’ve ever attempted, but my favourite of all time, even if I panicked once we got to the top of the escarpment as I am terrified of heights. I could not imagine attempting this trail during peak season with 100’s of daily visitors.
Once back on solid ground we took a short break, refueled in our car with some food that we’d brought with us and then made our way to the next trail which happened to be attached to the same parking lot as the Grotto.
Cyprus Lake. A beautiful lakeside trail looped around a quiet forest. As beautiful, calm, and scenic as it was, we only walked halfway and decided to turn around as we were beat. Before heading back to our cabin, though, we took a detour into town to visit a couple of shops we hadn’t been into yet and then grabbed a drink. Rich had a coffee, and I got a tea. We joined another couple of tourists sitting on a bench overlooking the Harbour and chatted with them for some time. They were lovely, and we probably could’ve chatted for hours more, but the hot tub was calling our name.
After we cleaned up from the day, we went to the local pub for our last dinner in Tobermory. The food was delicious!
Then, our final day had arrived. It felt bittersweet. We packed up early morning and said goodbye to Tobermory. We still had 2 more trails left on our itinerary heading towards home in another small town called Wiarton, home to our famous groundhog, Wiarton Willie. First stop, Devil’s Monument. It included some more stunning views, lots of varied terrain, and is home to another flowerpot formation, this one, double in size to the one on Flowerpot Island. From there, we headed to our last destination, Bruce’s Caves. Our final reminder of just how special this corner of Ontario truly is.
We weren’t ready quite yet for it to all be over so we took our time and explored the small but surprisingly bustling town of Wiarton, visiting the statue and Monument set up in the local park of Wiarton Willie and learned the history behind him and the week-long festivities that take place around Groundhog Day each February. We also walked the main strip for a bit. I love small town shops! The last stop before hitting the highway for home was Tim Horton’s. Can’t get more Ontario than that! Fun fact: Tobermory does not allow for any fast food chains in order to preserve its unique character and support its local businesses. I couldn’t agree more, but boy had we missed our Timmies!!!
In four days, we covered some of the hardest trails. The trails along the Bruce Peninsula are way more challenging than any we’d ever experienced before due to its rich history of 400 million year old glaciers and evolution, which has left the ground way more unstable and rockier to walk on.
But we did it!! We hiked ten different trails, each one offering its own version of breathtaking beauty, calm, and challenges. We laughed together, we moaned in agony together, we awed at the beautiful views together, and we walked every step of the way together.
The Bruce Peninsula gave us more than just a hiking experience — it gave us perspective, connection, and a fresh appreciation for the simple joy of being in nature together.
Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness Month. I’ve spent so much of my last year in survival mode, and so much of the last month focused on healing while also trying to navigate my way through the start of my wonderful new job. But these past four days in nature, I kept pushing my limits, both physically and mentally, proving my resilience. I kept reminding myself that I can do the hard stuff and that even when my mind feels heavy, my strength runs deeper. I was unstoppable this week, but I know I couldn’t have done it without my “Rock”, the man who still considers me his favourite view at the end of every trail, even after 30 years of marriage, and the one and only person I wish to hike through life with, forever and a day.
YouAreEnough 
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