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.
I received this message in the wee hours of the morning from an old friend.
I’m not calling them old per se, I’m just saying that they are an old friend from high school!
I spiraled yesterday to a very dark place.
I felt defeated.
It came on fast and furious.
Reading this message really helped.
But like they pointed out, I don’t need approval from anyone, none of us do.
However, it sure doesn’t hurt because I can tell you that there is no better feeling in the world than knowing you have so much love and support in your life to keep you fighting.
Yesterday was filled with such a mix of emotions. Regret and self-doubt swirled around in the pit of my stomach all morning as I prepared myself to leave for my Boudoir photoshoot. I’d also woken up at 4 am. with a horrible headache that didn’t seem to want to go away either.
I was teetering on the edge, and I knew that one wrong step would send me flying right over that edge. Thoughts of canceling consumed me all week long, to be honest. What was I thinking? I can’t do this? I’m definitely not worthy of being a part of their 50’s & Fabulous collection.
But as soon as I walked through the doors of that studio, I was made to feel as though I was unstoppable. From the manager who greeted me with so much enthusiasm and excitement for me, right down to the photographer herself, whose encouragement and direction made me feel confident and beautiful.
The photoshoot itself flew by. I let my guard down the entire time and allowed myself to feel vulnerable both in front of and behind the camera. For a brief moment, I was focused. I felt free. My body was not something I feared. I was unapologetically me and embraced my imperfections; scars, stretch marks, and all.
Self-love is a lifelong journey. It’s about embracing your vulnerabilities, loving yourself unconditionally, and honouring the person that you are, as you are. I know I need a lot more practice before I can truly even begin to conquer it. I know I need to start by showing myself more moments of grace in my everyday life, like I did yesterday, and not just once in a while.
A week from tomorrow, I have another appointment at the studio for my big photo reveal where I will get to sit down and view the entire collection of proofs taken of me during my session yesterday. The photographer did show me a sneak peak of some pictures in real time as she was taking them. I tried to look away, though, in order for me to stay focused and continue to be in the moment.
As part of my gift, I have a $750 credit towards an album. I am already feeling very anxious about seeing the proofs and finished product (which will likely take approximately 3 months to get). That journey towards loving myself wholeheartedly feels so far out of reach today.
But, I will continue to hold on tightly to the memories of yesterday and filled with pride for even allowing myself to have this amazing experience.
Just when I thought I couldn’t love Elmo any more than I already do. He then went and sent out a message to his hundreds of thousands of Sesame Street friends on his social media pages a few days ago, which has since gone viral.
His message was simple yet powerful, asking his friends how they were doing, and boy was he ever happy he did given the response. And so am I.
Many people took advantage of his kindness by getting real. They let Elmo know they were not feeling so tickled with life at the moment, many more thanking him for giving them a safe space to feel as though someone is listening.
We all need to be more like Elmo and check in on our friends and loved ones regularly. We need to be there for one another and ensure that everyone in our lives know that they are not alone and that it’s ok to ask for help.
We need to start hard conversations.
Thank you, Elmo, for this gentle reminder to everyone on how imperative it is for our mental wellbeing to take a pause sometimes and to be mindful of our feelings.
I would love for everyone reading this to check in with a friend or loved one this weekend, and while you’re at it, remember to take a pause yourself and be mindful of your own feelings too.
where I spoke about how, after losing both a significant and necessary amount of weight over the past 6 months (which started from a diagnosis of a stress ulcer), has now left me indulging again in many of those same dangerous tendencies I’ve battled with on and off since I first developed an eating disorder when I was 18 years old.
Most people go through life taking very little notice of their thought processes. I, however, am not most people, though.
Yesterday, it was one of my work bestie’s birthdays. My boss decided we should surprise her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a cake, but not just any cake. A vanilla cake from Loblaws. The.Best.Cake.Ever.
We lit candles, sang happy birthday, and celebrated her. And boy, does she deserve celebrating. It was a nice distraction from the everyday grind for everyone, everyone but me that is, because all I began to focus on as this delicious cake stared me in the face was now I was going to have to eat it.
Everyone happily took a slice as I stared at the cake in fear. I felt pressure to have a piece as my mind started to spiral. I couldn’t eat it, I won’t eat it. Well, maybe if I just have a small piece, I just won’t eat supper tonight was my negotiation and thought process in the moment. That would be ok, right? So I gave into the pressure and cut myself a piece of cake.
After I ate it, the guilt got the best of me, and without any warning, I went into a full-blown panic attack. I convinced myself I was dying. My heart was pounding uncontrollably. I thought I was having a heart attack or possibly going into a diabetic coma (I don’t even have diabetes). I couldn’t catch my breath. I felt numb. I was shaking and extremely nauseous. My neurological symptoms flared up from head to toe. I wanted to run and hide as I did everything in my power to hold back tears.
My boss and the rest of my coworkers saw what was happening as much as I tried to hide it. I tried to fluff it off, but I literally couldn’t catch my breath. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t get a grip on reality. They poured me some water before demanding I go home. But only after I promised I could actually drive.
Our minds truly are powerful tools and simply put, I guess maybe I can’t actually have my cake and eat it too.
Last night, I had a Zoom call with a PhD Student. His area of study is in clinical psychology. Our call lasted two hours.
We “met” online several months ago through a private Facebook group we are both members of. Our purpose in joining this group differed greatly. His was strictly for research he is doing for his dissertation. The subject, “Track Two, Non-Terminal Illnesses for M.A.I.D” (Medical Assistance in Dying); my reason was for a very different kind of research.
He had originally reached out to me a few months back to ask if I would be willing to talk to him about M.A.I.D, knowing that I had already taken several steps in the application process. I told him I’d be more than happy to chat with him, but that it would have to wait until the new year as I had a lot on my plate at the time.
He made me feel very relaxed right from the start of our conversation last evening. Everything we spoke about was recorded for research purposes only and in the strictest of confidence.
He told me this was my opportunity to contribute to helping people better understand what it’s like to have conversations about M.A.I.D and what I believe doctors outta hear. He was most interested in learning more about my life experiences, my reasons for researching M.A.I.D, why I made the decision to start the process, and my relationships; mostly he wanted to know how they all feel about me applying to the program, including that of my Therapist and Psychiatrist.
When I first learned about M.A.I.D potentially becoming legal in March of 2023, the year prior, for individuals suffering with a mental illness, I was torn, confused, and scared. A year later though, still torn, confused and scared but now living with irreparable neurological damage, I started looking into it more seriously with each new treatment failing me and my mental health declining due in part to the more recent issues. It was just about that same time that the government announced they were delaying the start date by another year to March, 2024. I made a promise to myself I would hold on until then but I’d also found a loophole in the system where some people with a mental illness may still be eligible “if they also have a ‘grievous and irremediable’ physical health condition. Their illness, disease or disability or state of decline causes them enduring physical or psychological suffering that is intolerable to them and that cannot be relieved under conditions that they consider acceptable.” A person’s death also does not need to be reasonably foreseeable for M.A.I.D eligibility (i.e., a person does not need to be at the end of life).~ Camh
After months of going through the process, I was told in November by one of the M.A.I.D team doctors that my case falls into a very gray area and that I would most likely have to wait until it becomes legalized this year. Just last week, I asked my Psychiatrist during my appointment with him if he had heard anything yet as the March deadline was nearing. He told me he hadn’t but that he would let me know as soon as he did and that he takes every inquiry from his patients very seriously.
Then, this past Monday as I drove home from work, alone in my thoughts, I heard on the radio that the government was asking for another pause on M.A.I.D again for individuals suffering with a mental illness who are seeking assistance in dying. I was torn, confused, and scared once again.
The government still feels, from conversations they’ve had, that the system is not ready yet, that they need more time and if they plan to move forward to make M.A.I.D legal for those suffering with a mental illness, they need to get it right.
Upon hearing the news on my drive home, that promise I had made to myself a year earlier that I would wait out the year suddenly left me with a lot more to think about this week. It’s been all I’ve been thinking about, to be honest. I know my loved ones think that the government’s announcement earlier this week was a good thing. My fear is where is this going to leave people like myself now.
I think last night ended up being quite a therapeutic experience for me at just the perfect time, and the best part was that this research study, unlike so many others I’ve participated in, won’t leave behind any further irreparable damage to my body or mind. After we finished our call, the kind young man sent me a $20 Amazon gift card for my time. I really appreciated the sweet gesture. So, at least for today, I am now focused on deciding what I should treat myself to with my gift card!!! Any thoughts??
When I’m submerged in water, I feel so much calmer, especially when it’s at a warmer than average temperature. I find it really helps to relax my super anxious mind and hypersensitive body.
Last week, I met with a chiropractor. He was quite thorough and performed more tests on me (from head to toe), in our hour and a half long consult than every other specialist combined who I’ve seen over the course of the past 2 years have, including two different Neurologists. But seeing as one of the two Neurologists only took the time to meet with me on a Zoom call, without performing any type of exam and then, based on our 10 minute conversation concluded that a circuit must have broke in my brain the day of the Psilocybin clinical research trial and then proceeded to say, “hopefully it will fix itself one day”. Guess what? Twenty-two very long and very torcherous months later, it’s still nowhere near being fixed.
My assessment last week ended up taking a bit longer than planned. It is something I have come to expect these days because, like many others before him, once I began to explain the intimate details of what led me to his clinic, he literally became speechless. He thought he’d heard it all by now in his long career and even had to take a few minutes to google parts of my diagnosis in order to grasp the full picture of what my body is going through, day in and day out; for twenty-two very long and very torcherous months now.
I’ve become pretty numb to sharing my story by now, especially since participating in the clinical trial which only ended up taking another piece of me with it; this time though, it was a big chunk.
The reason I decided to see the chiropractor was simple. He works in conjunction with an aqua therapy and rehabilitation facility.
Water has an incredible power to rejuvenate and heal both the body and mind. I love water, whether it’s a hot bath, a soothing jacuzzi, an aqua fitness class, or a warm pool to splash around in; it’s the best feeling in the world.
After our consultation last week, the chiropractor, along with his team of specialists, including physio and rehabilitation therapists, helped put a plan in place for me. Last night I went for my first hydrotherapy session where I spent 30 minutes alongside the chiropractor’s assistant doing some very gentle exercises and stretching my muscles with the goal in mind of relieving some stress, repairing muscles, calming my nervous system and hoping to improve my circulation in my hands and feet which tingle all day and night.
Am I hoping for some small miracle or a cure at this point in time by doing this? Nope, all I’m really looking for at this point in time are things that bring my body and mind a few moments of calm and joy. I just hope I’m not asking for too much.
I always get a mix of emotions when my Facebook memories show up today. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing all the pictures and reminiscing about one of the greatest nights of my life 12 years ago when we celebrated the B’nai Mitzvah of Jacob and Hannah with all our family and friends by our side, but still, I can’t help but feel a sense of sadness and loss when I reflect back on that night either.
I am not the same person I was back then. That person is gone forever. I don’t even recognize her beauty and confidence or her zest for life anymore. She all but vanished into thin air just 2 short years later.
I was beyond the moon happy that night, living in the moment and beaming with so much pride. My kids, legit proud of me as well.
I feel like I have fallen short of being a mom; a good mom that is, over the past 10 years. Even the slightest thought that I have failed my kids in any way fills me with so much pain and heartache. And no matter how many times I apologize to them for my shortcomings, the pain and heartache never seem to go away.
There is so much guilt that comes along with feeling so broken, yet, this very well-intentioned mom somehow continues to fight, and keep fighting every day of her life, not just for herself, but for them too. Through her fight, she is also doing her best to instill important values into these 3 beautiful humans.
She hopes they understand that although life will not always be easy or fair, they will always be honest with others, but more importantly, with themselves. She hopes they never, ever forget their self-worth, or how to love themselves first. She hopes they will always feel confident in their own skin, no matter what life throws their way. She hopes they will always treat others the way they wish to be treated, that is, with empathy, kindness, and respect. She hopes they always know that it’s okay to get angry or to be sad sometimes because all of our mixed up crazy emotions matter.
She hopes they know that we all have weaknesses but that the only thing that truly matters is the strength it takes when we choose to turn them into something positive. She hopes that they will always accept responsibility for their actions, that making mistakes does not equate to someone’s failure, that they know by serving others is where we often find the most joy in our lives, and she hopes they always remember that they deserve to be loved. That they are very loved.
If you’re a parent, it’s pretty much guaranteed that your kids will remember everything we did wrong, but I sure hope that they will also remember everything we did right too. Or at least okayish!
I am beyond overwhelmed with emotion by the kindness of both friends and strangers alike over the past many days and weeks.
I could have never imagined though, the incredible generosity, support and guidance I was about to receive after both friends and I shared my desperate pleas for help in finding a FURever home for my brother in law’s precious cat Nana on several social media pages, including my own.
It’s been more than 6 weeks now since my brother in law passed away suddenly, leaving behind sweet Nana. For five of these six weeks, family members continued to enter his apartment regularly, searching for the cat, but could not find her anywhere. They’d leave food and water and change her litter. There were signs showing she was in there, somewhere, and alive. Then, by some small miracle, last Sunday morning, when Rich and his other brother opened the apartment door, Nana scurried past them, ran into the kitchen, and jumped up top the cabinets. They could not get her down.
For weeks now, I have been worried sick about Nana and can’t even begin to imagine how frightened and sad she must be feeling, traumatized, and unable to understand where her daddy has gone to. It’s a difficult enough concept for us as humans to comprehend our emotions when a loved one passes, let alone any animal. Animals do go through a grieving process, too.
Over the last while, I have been reaching out to several beautiful souls I know who I knew had been involved with rescues and fostering cats. They guided me to names of reputable organizations to contact for help but every email or Facebook message I sent either went unanswered or I was turned away, only to be told they can’t surrender anymore cats at the moment and don’t have enough fosters to keep up with the demand.
It felt hopeless but then, after sifting through the 100’s of comments and heartfelt private messages I received in less than 24 hours from posting in several local community groups, I was now faced with the daunting decision of choosing who I felt would be the PURRfect match. There were so many incredible offers from people wanting to help trap Nana, foster her, or give her that FURever home she so desperately needs and deserves right now.
It didn’t take long, though, because one particular message stood out above all the rest. It was a message from a guardian angel wanting to connect two warrior women together with one common goal in mind; saving Nana.
I felt an instant connection to her before we even spoke. I learned from my guardian angel who’d first connected us the other night that, Denny (that’s her name) had started her own cat rescue just over a year ago with the strength of her husband by her side after they had been fostering kittens for years through other organizations. Tragically, though, just 6 months into establishing their new cat rescue mission, her husband was killed by a drunk driver this past summer.
She suddenly found herself alone with her new mission, and instead of giving up in her time of grieving, she has worked tirously to keep her cat rescue going, wanting nothing more than to make her husband proud. Which I’m pretty sure he is.
When my guardian angel first reached out to me the other night (who helps run a non-profit pet rescue organization called “Good Will, Good Karma”), I could hear the excitement in her heart when she began telling me how she had the PURRfect person in mind and had already sent her a message to tell her all about Nana. But when she told me the name of Denny’s rescue, I got chills. It’s called “Newmans New Beginnings”. For those of you who don’t know, or wouldn’t know, my maiden name is Newman!!!
Denny was all in as well. Wanting to come to the apartment to not only rescue Nana but to keep as her own among her other fur babies. Another guardian angel 😇.
Later that day we spoke on the phone. You could tell how heartfelt she was and had such passion for the amazing work she does. I asked her where the name “Newmans New Beginnings” originated from and she began to share with me that it was named after one of her beloved cats who’d passed away and that she and her husband were huge Seinfeld fans. If I hadn’t been sure before this moment, this sealed our fate. Rich is such a huge Seinfeld fan as well, and just the evening before, I heard him laughing hysterically from another room in our home. I got up to see what was so funny. He was watching a TikTok video. It was a scene from Seinfeld with none other than “Newman” himself.
Nana is now safe in the arms of her angel and new family. I had a good cry this afternoon, right after Denny and her son drove away to Nana’s new home. I feel like it’s no coincidence that Nana has brought these 2 incredible warrior women into my life. And I have all the confidence in the world that Nana will be able to live out the rest of her deserving days surrounded by so many new fur friends and so much more.
I am FURever grateful to everyone who offered their support and willingness to help our family out during this difficult time.
And if I didn’t believe it before, I truly do now, cats really do have 9 lives!!!
During an appointment with my Psychiatrist yesterday, I let him know how vulnerable I have been feeling lately due to my frustration and anger toward the lack of communication with the specialist I was scheduled to see this coming week. I declared defeat as I updated him on what has been happening, and how THREE emails and a follow up phone call nearly 2 weeks ago, where she promised she would send me the signed insurance form right after we hung up, once again never got sent.
He completely understood my frustration and anger and acknowledged how, once again, our healthcare system has failed me.
I told him that I no longer have the energy to keep going or to keep fighting for my life. Once again, he completely understood, but encouraged me to please try one last time to contact them today and instead of cancelling my appointment all together for this coming Friday, that I try to reschedule it for another day, hoping they would finally hear my cry for help and send me the stupid document I need from them in order to submit it to insurance. A form she promised to sign at my initial consultation on Dec 6th.
I agreed and set aside some time to call the specialist’s office this morning; it’s not an easy feat for me. After finding enough courage to make the call, I was then left on hold for quite some time before the receptionist finally answered. She proceeded to search for the form, which she eventually found sitting in my file. It was signed but never sent out. The kind and patient woman on the other end of the phone then asked me if I would do her a favour and call her back again in 10 to 15 minutes as she needed to speak with someone before releasing it (the doctor was not there today). I asked her, nicely, to please call me back when she was ready because it is very difficult to get through to them and very difficult for me to find the energy to make another call.
Two hours later, she called me back, emailed me the form, (woohoo) and rebooked my appointment. When, you ask? In 3 months from now. SMH.
Rich submitted the form for me as soon as he got home from work today, so for now, it’s a wait and see game. I now have to wait and see if, after all this, insurance will even cover the procedure at all, and if so, do I even have the strength anymore to wait another 3 months to see if the treatment will even slightly help my symptoms.
YouAreEnough 
You must be logged in to post a comment.