Category: Acceptance

Anxiety Disorders; What Would You Put In Your Self-Care Kit?

ANXIETY DISORDERS; WHAT WOULD YOU PUT IN YOUR SELF-CARE KIT?

*****Please read if you or your loved one suffers from Anxiety and/or Panic Attacks*****

As you probably already know by now (like who doesn’t), I suffer with severe anxiety every single day which also includes several panic attacks in any given week.  It’s often unforeseeable, it’s often discombobulating to others and it is highly obtrusive to my life.  My brain is on constant overdrive and with each passing day it seems to be becoming more and more intrusive as I feel less and less able to examine, rationalize or make sensible decisions.  You see, my brain is in a constant catastrophic state of mind where nothing makes any sense at all and it feels as though the world around me is falling apart right before my very eyes.

My anxiety and panic attacks are both equally unpredictable, scary, confusing and most definitely exhausting.  If you were to ask me in the midst of an attack what is wrong or if I’m okay my response will likely be “I don’t know” followed by “No I’m not” and my answers would be both justifiable and completely true.  Believe it or not it is extremely difficult to talk about anxiety but what I find even more wearing is having to actually explain it.  I know that anxiety can seem illogical and unreasonable to many people who don’t regularly live with it but for an individual like myself who does, a simple, “I get it” is so much more valued and treasured.

In general, anxiety is actually a very normal physical reaction to stress and can often be seen as motivational.  However, when it begins to cause grave impairment to your judgment or when it hinders your ability to tackle even the simplest tasks or when it weakens your entire immune system or when it is no longer just a fleeting moment in time but instead lasting for days, months or even years it has now become a debilitating disorder.

I am actively trying to be one step ahead of when my next anxiety or panic attack may occur even though they more often than not will come on strong and without warning.  But much like how the Boy Scouts are taught to “Be Prepared” I too want the same for both my body and mind in order for me to successfully get through it as best I can and with the least amount of resistance.

Over the last several years I have been immersed in many different practices of therapy both individually and in a group setting.  Throughout all of these different approaches there has always been one common theme when it comes to treating anxiety and panic attacks which is called “Grounding”.  Grounding is actually a technique that I find myself using sometimes even though I may not even realize it at the time.  It can be a very useful tool to have “when you feel like you’ve gone too far in your head and lost control of your surroundings.”

Grounding exercises can be used in order to bring your body and mind back to the present moment by using your senses, but don’t necessarily have to be used all at once.  Some exercises are quite simple and some may involve several parts to it, but most of them can be incorporated into just about any situation and be done just about anywhere.

Please have a look at the article I have attached to learn more about Grounding exercises and to find some that may work best for you.

http://www.tothegrowlery.com/blog/2017/4/18/six-different-types-of-grounding-exercises-for-anxiety-intense-emotions

Along a similar path to Grounding many times during an anxiety or panic attack individuals may also turn to a comfort of theirs or something that may soothe them.  It is not uncommon these days for someone to actually keep these comforts close by in their purse, a knapsack or a box hidden under their bed.  It’s truly not a bad idea for someone such as myself to create a Self-Care Kit and keep it close by. I’m pretty sure it would first and foremost include a picture of my family (including Maggie), a fluffy pair of socks, a journal, a bottle of CBD oil, a stress ball or silly putty, some chocolate, a colouring book & pencil crayons, lotion from Victoria Secret and a book of crossword puzzles (I’d keep an extra phone and TV in it if I could too).

Well I actually came up with this list in mere seconds and I’m sure I could think of many more things to include in my Self-Care Kit but for now that is a good starting point and just like the Boy Scouts I will most certainly “Be Prepared” with a kit like that in hand.  So tell me what would you put in your “Self-Care” kit?

What You Didn’t See During The #Summerofrich

WHAT YOU DIDN’T SEE DURING THE #SUMMEROFRICH

As we approach the final stretch of the summer I begin to reflect back on it and of course just how fast it truly flew by while at the same time I am also forced to reflect upon just how truly hard it’s been.  I’m sure you’re all shaking your heads questioning why I said it was “hard” given all the fun and exciting adventures I shared with you on Facebook and Instagram all summer long, but we all know that they only capture half the story, that is the story we all want to believe as the truth.

Sure I honestly meant every word I posted on my Social Media platforms about all the fun and exciting adventures we had this summer.  Sure the pictures I attached alongside those posts captured the incredible memories we made this summer too and sure I am very grateful that the man that I love held my hand the whole way through but lets be honest for a moment, who really wanted to see what my Facebook and Instagram mask was truly hiding.

I have gotten used to hearing people say to me “oh you must be doing better” or “it’s so great to see you are getting out” and although I know that these words are coming from a sincere and heartfelt place just try to remember that you don’t always see everything.  The truth is I do go out and that I can find some enjoyment in doing so but what you don’t see behind my mask are the persistent racing thoughts, the severe heart palpitations, the physical and mental exhaustion, my mind wandering to a very dark and dismal place, the constant feeling like I’m going to throw up or the numbness or shakiness that suddenly overtakes my body leaving me unable to move and you especially can’t see what it took in order for me to just leave my home at all.

My illness follows me wherever I go and this summer it has become exceptionally draining and inescapable.  As the summer has progressed I have found myself more and more in a constant state of panic and fear with an overwhelming sense of guilt along with the inability to control any of my very scary and very intrusive thoughts.  I have been consciously trying to make a mental note of what time of day it is or where I am during such an incident but guess what, there is absolutely no pattern to it at all.  It begins first thing in the morning when I open my eyes and it happens at 2 am when of course I should be sleeping; it presents itself while I am watching one of the countless (and of course brainless) reality shows I tape each night and it has even occurred right in the middle of one of our fun and exciting #summerofrich adventures.

You see, mental illness has no boundaries, it doesn’t like to discriminate and it most certainly doesn’t give a damn; it feels like I am living with that unwanted houseguest who no matter how hard I try doesn’t seem to want to leave me alone. So I have learned to adapt, to fake it till I make it and to hide behind my mask as best as I can which at times may confuse others who don’t live with a mental illness or love someone who may be suffering with one.   I just ask that you keep in mind that A Picture May NOT Always Be Worth A Thousand Words!

And Just Like That The #Summerofrich Is Over ;(

AND JUST LIKE THAT THE #SUMMEROFRICH IS OVER ;(

In the blink of an eye the #summerofrich is now officially over and the kids are all home safe and sound, exhausted but very happy (and just as sad to be home).  Before he knows it the chaos will erupt and there will be mounds of laundry sprawled out all over the house (that is asides from the six smelly duffel bags filled with dirt, bugs and sand that need to be washed, folded and neatly put away), three very hungry mouths to feed and lets not forget the daily demands being expelled from those same hungry mouths.

Over the last four years my husband has been overwhelmed with having to take on many additional roles in our family in order to ensure that everyone’s needs are being properly met which has without a doubt included much of the typical, daily “mom” responsibilities.  Before I became ill we shared all of these duties and responsibilities equally when it came to both the household and our kids but now, well that’s a whole other story.

The thing is, that is what you do for the people you love, especially as a spouse or a parent, you step up to the plate at any cost and even if you strike out sometimes you keep going to bat for them.  I mean my kids certainly didn’t wish for this to happen to our family and they most certainly don’t deserve to suffer because of it either.   They never asked to be brought into this world but from the moment they arrived, it is our duty as their parents to ensure that they are provided with the essentials of life which of course includes food, clothing and shelter.  Asides from the essentials of life kids should always be provided with a safe and nurturing environment, an education and be taught the importance of values, morals, self-esteem, discipline and an overall mutual respect for one other.

When I look at the list I came up with above, I know in my heart that I can confidently reassure myself that I have completely fulfilled all of the essential responsibilities as a parent (well past their 18th birthday) while continuing daily to instill the importance of kindness and happiness in them as well.   So then why does my illness keep fighting me on this and making me believe that I am the worst mother and wife on this planet; okay, well maybe not the worst, but just one who believes in her mind that their lives would be less stressful, less complicated and less demanding without me in it.

This summer while my kids were away at camp I have tried to ensure that the #summerofrich was both enjoyable and relaxing for him (which surprisingly is even possible while hiking in the sweltering heat).  I think that overall he will look back on the #summerofrich with that same sense of relief he started with some 7 to 8 weeks ago while delighting in a pedicure almost moments after our youngest child left for camp but for me I am left feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt.

This overwhelming sense of guilt stems from knowing that my husband has had to play both the role of mom and dad for the last four years and that because of me he is even more deserving than ever of this much needed break from parenting.   At the same time though my illness has spent the summer reflecting on just how much I have failed my kids as their mom and to what degree it will impact their future selves (or already has) by having a mom who never feels she is good enough for them and truly believes they would all be better off without her.

I am reminded quite often that I am a good mom despite what my depression and anxiety tell me.  Sure my heart knows that I have provided them with all the essentials in life, along with the wherewithal to build a strong footing for their future and as much love and encouragement as I can possibly give them but my illness doesn’t want any part of it.  It is also unable to accept that maybe somewhere deep down inside I am also a good wife too and not just a burden to him or a failure.  It was from that same place in my heart that I pulled some strength from despite what my illness is telling me in order to ensure the #summerofrich be filled with so many fun and happy memories, especially knowing that it is probably the last one for many years to come ;(

Language Matters, Words Matter

Language Matters, Words Matter

*Warning Sensitive Content*

“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world” Robin Williams 1951-2014

Today marks four years since Robin Williams took his own life.  That week, or more precisely that particular day, August 11, 2014 my illness became very real to me.  It had been four months since I had begun struggling with Depression and at the exact moment when I heard the news of his death I was alone in my car, no one knowing my whereabouts, contemplating suicide.  It wasn’t the first time in that first four months that I had come close to acting upon my urges and it certainly hasn’t been the last; but it was the first time that I truly understood the seriousness of my illness.

Whenever there is a reported suicide of a famous person like Robin Williams something called the “Celebrity Suicide Effect” occurs and there is a noted rise in copycat suicides that happen following such tragedies.  That night as I sat alone in my car, scared and visibly shaken, I got caught up in the moment of it all as I began reading the headlines.  He was someone who I had admired since I was a young child, he was someone who made me laugh and he had just done the unthinkable, he had taken his life, which only left me wondering why not me too.

As I calmed myself down enough to eventually return home later that night, my attention diverted to what Robin Williams must have been thinking and feeling in the moments prior to his death and now in the aftermath, what his family and friends must be thinking and feeling too.  The headlines that night and the days and weeks that followed were oftentimes cruel, insensitive and full of judgment as the frequently, very avoided and much whispered about topic of suicide was in the forefront of everyone’s minds.

Since Robin Williams death four years ago there have been countless other celebrity suicides in the headlines, and I do mean countless.  And although there have been great strides forward in trying to end the stigma attached to Mental Illness and suicide since then, some things seem to never change.  The headlines continue to use inappropriate language when describing their death as something criminal when all you see in big bold letters next to their name is…”Committed Suicide”.

When individuals like myself who live with daily ideations of suicide or for someone who has lost a loved one to suicide it is essential to keep in mind that our language or more importantly our words matter.  The word “committed” when attached to the word suicide implies wrongdoing or sin and only makes it more difficult for those suffering with thoughts of suicide or for those who may have been left behind from a loved one’s suicide to want to just bury their heads in the sand with shame.  This of course accomplishes absolutely nothing and only keeps society as a whole from accepting that Mental Illness is a very real, often lonely and sometimes deadly disease.

An important step forward for society right now as a whole is to try and understand that our choice of words and language are imperative when talking about Mental illness and suicide.  A person who has unceasing suicidal ideations or dies by suicide have more than likely been overtaken by their illness and it has now consumed their ability to live.  But maybe, just maybe if we can learn to use less negative connotations surrounding Mental Illness and suicide starting with the use of more sensitive language and words, it will make room for more positive conversations, more individuals wanting to seek help and less people “taking their own lives” or “dying by suicide”.

Canadian National Suicide Hotline 1-833-456-4566

Admitting Defeat

ADMITTING DEFEAT

Before the summer began and the end seemed so far in the distance I tried to set some small, yet attainable goals for myself to focus on (some of which I have mentioned in previous blogs).  These goals to most individuals may seem like a normal part of their everyday routine, but for someone like myself who suffers with depression and anxiety on a daily basis they can seem as massive as trying to end world hunger (all by yourself!).  As the summer began to progress (quickly) I found that some of my small, yet attainable goals were being reached and even though one of my goals of going to the gym several times a week has turned out to be a one-time thing way back in week one, I was able to refocus this particular goal instead on trying to ensure that I go for a long walk most evenings with my hubby and pup; and lets not forget how many “steps” I’ve taken this summer during our #summerofrich excursions.

But even though it is so important for me to center my attention on any and all of my goals I achieve as equal, I am left feeling very deflated and empty once again.  You see, I had one BIG goal I have been working toward accomplishing for several months, a goal that I have only shared the most intimate details of with a handful of people, a goal that would give me a real sense of purpose and a goal that would give me a real sense of accomplishment.  As I said, it’s a BIG goal with many parts to it and not something that could be completed overnight so I had to break it down into several components to help try and make it more achievable and yes, much less overwhelming; which brings me to today.

With all my time and effort I have spent working toward accomplishing my BIG goal the process has now become tremendously overwhelming for me and has left me with even more sleepless nights, even more self-doubt, an even more sizable feeling of worthlessness, even more tears (who knew), even more anxiety (who knew that was even possible) and an overpowering sense of failure once again.  I feel like nothing I ever do is good enough, that every decision I make is the wrong one, that every step forward I take only sends me five steps backwards and that my negative self-talk just continues to lead me spiraling further down that dark and lonely hole toward a general sense of defeat.

I never said that this goal was going to be an easy one to attain (I set the simplest of goals everyday and sometimes just getting out of bed or taking a shower is an achievement in itself) so I knew from the onset that this was going to be quite difficult but I needed to undertake the challenge in order to try and save myself.   I also know that everyone may have feelings of defeat from time to time as it’s a normal part of the human experience no matter who you are or the path you may take in life.

Feeling defeated is really nothing new for me, in fact it has kind of just become part of the norm in my life.  It’s as though my illness is always taunting me and trying to ensure that no matter how hard I try to beat it I am more than likely just going to fail or that I am more than likely just going to feel defeated.  I have not given up on my BIG goal but this overpowering emotion has just left me wondering if there is an actual limit as to how long you carry on before you admit defeat?  How many times do you take one step forward only to be taken five steps backwards?  Are we just supposed to keep accepting our defeat in our endless attempts toward wellness as part of our journey and do our best to keep trying to move forward even if our efforts seem to be spiraling further down that dark and lonely hole?  Do we persevere no matter what we have to tackle along the way or how long it may take to get there (is there a time limit toward wellness)?  Does admitting defeat make us a coward or weak or is it true that it may actually make us brave and fearless?  What do you think?

Are You Living Life Or Merely Existing? “What I Know For Sure”

ARE YOU LIVING LIFE OR MERELY EXISTING? “WHAT I KNOW FOR SURE”

“The Proper function of man is to live, not to exist.” – Jack London (1876-1916)

I guess it is probably safe to say by now that for the last four years I have found myself existing but not actually living.  Living means that you are enjoying life, doing things that you like and that you are chasing your dreams and fulfilling your goals whereas a person who is merely existing means that you are simply breathing while doing the things that you have to do in order to get through each day and thus allowing your emotions like fear and anger to control you.

This has been a particularly tough week for me and my anxiety and depression have crippled me to the point of feeling non-existent.  A person who is living has the ability to understand their emotions and not allow them to impede on their choices or determination, to me living means you have purpose, and right now I feel as though I am only existing on the outside of life looking in.

By merely existing places many boundaries and restrictions on someone and believe it or not it takes a lot of effort to do so.  Existing like I do each day means being stuck in the past and always worrying about the future.  It means not having the capacity to feel what is happening around you in the moment or being able to reach your true potential, simply put, we feel powerless over our emotions.

While I am existing I am left waiting, left searching and left yearning to escape from the loss of control that these powerful emotions have taken from me, wishing that the next breath I grasp will be strong enough to renew my will to live.  To exist is to survive from the sidelines but to live is to do more than just survive or gaze upon, it means you are no longer left waiting, no longer left searching and no longer left yearning but instead you are actually leading the way to your own happiness and purpose; leading the way to feeling alive.

So after feeling so defeated by living, how does one learn to break the habit of merely existing?  The thing is if I had the answer then I wouldn’t be merely existing.  I recently read Oprah’s book titled “What I Know For Sure” which is filled with her inspirational life experiences with great insight and revelation.  Oprah is the Queen when it comes to learning how to overcome adversity and hardship and in my eyes she is also the Queen when it comes to living.

This book was super easy to read and so powerful and moving.  It was filled with page upon page of wisdom and honesty and chapter upon chapter of how to truly capture the art of living and appreciate its gift in return.  I am regularly reading books which will encourage me, inspire me and support me but this book is one that I am sure to return to time and time again in order to instill the value of living life over merely trying to exist in it.

Distress Centers, Demi Lovato & Doug Ford

DISTRESS CENTERS, DEMI LOVATO & DOUG FORD

Tonight Rich and I were planning to attend the Jason Mraz and Demi Lovato outdoor concert in Toronto.  Neither of us are necessarily big fans of their music but we were planning to go because it was a benefit concert to raise awareness and funds in support of Kids Help Phone.  Kids Help Phone is Canada’s only 24 hour, bilingual and confidential phone counselling, web counselling and referral service for both children and youth.  No one can argue that this outreach program (which was introduced almost 30 years ago) for our kids is needed now more than ever before and relies on donations both publicly and privately to keep it running.  Whether a child is suffering with mental health concerns, addiction or abuse, volunteer counsellors are there to listen and without judgment.

When the news broke the other day that Demi Lovato had been rushed to the hospital due to an apparent drug overdose it broke my heart.  As most of you probably know by now, Demi has battled with both mental and physical illness for much of her life.  She has been very vocal about her struggles and even though she had the best of the best resources at her fingertips, hitting rock bottom had to happen first in order for her to eventually reach out for help some six years ago.  Since then she ‘had’ gotten sober and partnered with the Founder & CEO of CAST Centers which “promotes well-being through a wide variety of proven methods, from traditional talk therapies to innovative and experimental treatments to more spiritual or mindful approaches”.

In 2015 she also became the spokeswoman for the “Be Vocal: Speak Up For Mental Health” campaign which has since encouraged and inspired people from all over the world to get help, even going so far as to offer her fans therapy and support for mental health concerns during each stop of her most recent concert tour (including Toronto).  Although I have never personally struggled with substance abuse myself (ok I’m lying, I have been addicted to tobacco for over 30 years, and when I actually write it down it makes me want to throw up), I know that addiction is a key element in someone’s mood, thinking and behaviour which will impair a person’s judgment and ability to function just as much as any other mental disorder.  And much like most other debilitating mental illnesses (depression, anxiety, eating disorders, psychosis etc.) they will most likely not go away on their own without proper treatment and if ignored will also likely get worse and very likely lead to a premature death.

This week our Health Minister announced that they will be cutting $330 million dollars of funding per year which was to be allocated to Mental Health services in Ontario only causing further turmoil and a monumental step in the wrong direction for everyone.  What this means for anyone battling with a mental illness or their loved ones (let’s face the scary truth, we all know of someone) is longer wait times to see a qualified Mental Health professional, less supports, less funded programs and less hospital beds and the real truth, even more children and adults in chaos.

For the average person living with a mental illness (myself included) who may not be privileged like Demi Lovato to be able to afford private long term treatment and instead rely heavily on government funding to enable them to get much needed and valuable support this too is heartbreaking.  I have seen firsthand the devastation from the lack of funding and cutbacks to doctors and programming (which I have blogged about in the past).  This is why it is more important than ever to remember when you are in need of immediate help that it may be just a phone call away, 24 hours per day, 365 days per year.

Helplines like Kids Help Phone or National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can and do save lives (and yes I have used their services).  They provide fast and immediate feedback to an already vulnerable, scared individual which may help to reduce their stress and fear in that pivotal moment.  I hope (along with the rest of the world) that Demi Lovato can make a full recovery and that she will continue to be that bright, shining voice for Mental Wellness and that when she is good and ready that Toronto will be her first stop on that road to recovery to finish what she started. (And you don’t want to know what I hope for Doug Ford)

*PLEASE PASS THESE NUMBERS ON TO YOUR CHILDREN AND LOVED ONES

Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868

National Suicide Prevention Service: 1-833-456-4566 (Canada)

Toronto Strong; Our Loss Of Innocence

TORONTO STRONG; OUR LOSS OF INNOCENCE

*Some Sensitive Content*

I feel it’s probably safe to say that after the tragic turn of events which occurred on The Danforth this past Sunday night that Toronto has officially lost its innocence. In the last few months alone there has been more unprovoked violence and innocent lives lost than ever before. In the first half of this year we have already far exceeded the total amount of shootings that occurred in all of 2017 and the homicide rate has more than doubled.

Although Toronto has never been immune to violence in the past, it just always seemed to be more contained. In years past we have witnessed many unprovoked violent occurrences and witnessed many innocent lives being lost but now it is happening almost daily. The amount of violence is making it very difficult to feel safe anywhere in the city and whether or not it’s labeled as a mass shooting, gang related, racism, terrorism or at the hands of a mentally ill individual, the outcome is still the same and can only be summarized in one word; tragic.

This latest tragedy which left thirteen innocent people injured and a beautiful, young child, age 10 dead along with another beautiful young woman, age 18 dead who was 6 weeks away from entering her first year of University to become a nurse. These two beautiful, young faces will forever be ingrained in my mind and being the parent of 3 beautiful, young soles myself, I can say without a doubt that no parent should ever, I repeat EVER have to bury their child and I can’t even begin to imagine what these families are going through right now.

Since the investigation began late Sunday night and especially once the name of the suspect was released the reports on both Social Media and News Stations alike have been speculating as to what could have caused this 29 year old animal to (seemingly) and randomly begin shooting at restaurant patrons through windows in one of the busiest, most tourist driven, summer hot spots in our great city. In the coming days and weeks ahead through police investigation we will hopefully learn the truth behind his rampage (and as to where he got his gun) because what the media has uncovered thus far is still just purely speculation (there has been no police confirmation to any of the stories including whether or not the gunman died at the hands of the police or by suicide).

One such speculation from the very beginning has been that the suspect suffered from “severe mental health challenges” including depression and psychosis which his parents quickly pointed out in a statement to the media. They claim that “the interventions of professionals were unsuccessful in helping him, and medications and therapy were unable to treat him”. Right away people all over social media began to voice their opinions and so many of these opinions feel that the family’s statement was a cop-out.

Through further investigation the truth behind his motive will eventually be unveiled as to whether or not it was due to an untreated mental illness, or if ISIS (unconfirmed) was behind it, or if he actually had an intended target in mind but for now I feel I need to focus your attention on the reality that not all mental illnesses are so clear-cut. Yes I suffer from depression and anxiety and it has taken away so much of my life over the last four years, but at the same time it has never left me feeling violent towards another individual or the urge to murder someone which is because I do not suffer from any type of serious psychosis; but many people do…

A person suffering with symptoms of psychosis can begin to experience and/or believe things that do not actually exist causing them to lose all sense of reality. During such time an individual may undergo delusions or hallucinations and may sometimes hear or see things that do not really exist which can prompt a person to become paranoid or go into violent rages; and yes sometimes medication and drugs can precipitate these symptoms as well. Sadly when a person is suffering a psychotic episode their judgement can become extremely impaired and when left untreated can (NOT ALWAYS) cause the individual to act upon these delusions or hallucinations which in some cases (NOT ALL) have lead them to murder.

So no matter what causes someone to open fire on innocent bystanders eating dinner with friends & family or running down innocent people with their van on a busy street in broad daylight or hijacking planes with the sole purpose of killing thousands of innocent lives or walking casually into a high school and murdering innocent children or detonating a bomb at the concert of your favorite teen idol we must take into account the suspect’s mental state at the time because let’s face it, it has to be somewhat prevalent in someone carrying out these heinous acts of violence. Like so many other mass shootings around the globe, and so many other terrorist attacks around the globe we as a society have instinctively become too quick to jump to conclusions or point out their own biases and stereotypes instead of wanting to learn and understand all the facts first. Maybe it’s simply that we have just become too numb to our reality as we try to keep our innocence and lives of our loved ones intact.

Our Last Visitor’s Day; “All Good Things Must Come to An End”

Our Last Visitor’s Day; “All Good Things Must Come To An End”

Yesterday was bittersweet.  It was a day filled with lots of excitement and joy for me but at the same time it was also filled with some sadness and sorrow too (oh and lets not forget the rain).  You see, for close to a decade now we have been sending our kids to sleepaway camp every summer and as our ‘baby’ (who turns 16 very soon) enters the next phase of camp life next summer by becoming a counsellor, we as parents are no longer entitled to the privilege of Visitor’s Day.

Visitor’s Day for me has always been a special day and I still remember the very first time I entered those campgrounds as a parent since leaving there more than 20 years earlier as a camp counsellor.  So much of the camp had changed in all those years in between but when I took a closer look around the camp that very first Visitor’s Day I realized it really hadn’t changed at all.  It was still the same great place only better; not better because they had added so many new features and activities like a beautiful new basketball court, a rock climbing wall or an outdoor ball hockey rink; it wasn’t better because the cabins had all been painted and new built-in bunk beds had been added; no it was even better now because my own children were there and about to embark on their own journey towards creating some of the most extraordinary memories and friendships of their lives just as I was once privileged in experiencing all those years ago.

Sleepaway camp happened gradually and not all at once though in our home, in fact our eldest was the last of our children to join the Camp Northland family as he chose to play Rep baseball for the better part of his childhood (but has never looked back since).  But regardless of when they started, one thing is for certain; camp has since become the happiest place on earth for all three of my kids and when the end comes it will unquestionably be met with a lot of heartache.

Every year since they began spending their summers at their home away from home I looked forward with great anticipation to Visitor’s Day.  When they were younger I not only got to spend the afternoon relaxing with my kids as they excitedly led us to their cabins, introduced us to their counsellors and new friends and showed us all the fun activities they got to participate in everyday, but I also got to reminisce and share with them some enjoyable anecdotes and memories of my time I spent strolling through those same amazing campgrounds.

Visitor’s Day has changed throughout the years as my kids got older, especially as their roles began to change.  Two of them have since become counsellors and as I mentioned earlier this will be our last summer that any of them will be campers at all and even though they don’t necessarily need us to engage in our Visitor’s Day rituals and traditions anymore, I know they still welcome us there with open arms, as do so many of their friends and mentors.

As much as Visitor’s Day means so much to me though, it has also become a very difficult day for me both leading up to and participating in it throughout my journey over the last four years.  In several ways it heightens many of my struggles I encounter daily with depression and anxiety but this year with the realization that it was also the end of an era it made me want to reminisce even more, it made me want to breathe in the beauty that surrounded me even more and it made me want to ensure that this was the most memorable Visitor’s Day even more.

It didn’t seem to matter that it was damp and raining off and on all afternoon, all that truly mattered were the memories my kids were collecting in their hearts and the food they were storing in their bellies (lol) so that one day they too will hopefully get to excitedly stroll through those same campgrounds with their own children reminiscing about their happiest place on earth, but for now as I reminisce about my last Visitor’s Day I will have to learn to accept that “all good things must come to an end”.

I’m Ms. Pac-Man

I’m Ms. Pac-Man

When I was growing up I absolutely loved playing the video game Ms. Pac-Man and I played it to perfection.  It may, at the time have been considered my earliest addiction, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t even come close to comparison when meeting today’s standard of video game obsessions; I mean I didn’t exactly need rehab or anything of the sort like many individuals nowadays do who are addicted to such games like Candy Crush or Fortnite.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the video game Ms. Pac-Man (you could live under a rock for all I know), it was developed from the original and extremely popular arcade game Pac-Man only this time around they used a female protagonist instead which at the time was a welcome addition to the gaming world.  The object of the game is for the player to skillfully maneuver Ms. Pac-Man through a series of mazes by trying to eat as many pellets as possible without being attacked by a ghost who in turn would cause you to lose one of your lives and eventually the game. Throughout each maze level there are several opportunities for Ms. Pac-Man to re-energize herself by eating a “power pellet” which allows her to attack the ghosts for a short period of time.  She is also given chances to earn extra points by eating some delicious fruit, escaping from the wrath of the ghosts by going through tunnels and obtaining new lives but you better watch out because the higher the level the faster the antagonists move.

So you are probably wondering by now why the heck I am wasting your time telling you all this?  Well, metaphorically speaking, I feel as though Ms. Pac-Man is a representation of who I used to be and who I am today, and that I have somehow become trapped inside of her gameplay (sounds like a big box-office hit to me); much of which seems destined to fail.  When you first look at Ms. Pac-Man she seems to emulate a strong, independent and self-empowered woman; qualities which I may have once identified as my own but then you begin playing the game and you quickly see those qualities dissipate, well at least they do for me.

At first glance Ms. Pac-Man seems to glide through the maze with such confidence and ease but as the game progresses she no longer seems to be strong, independent or self-empowered but instead she begins to lose herself inside of the maze and at times she may feel imprisoned.  This is of course one of the best ways to describe how depression feels to me every single day, both lost and imprisoned in my own mind; a mind controlled by my unrelenting illness.

Metaphorically speaking, my gameplay has left me feeling like I can no longer skillfully maneuver my way through a series of mazes with confidence and ease, eager to eat up as many pellets along the way as I can.  Instead I continually feel like I am being chased in circles by these ghosts who are stronger than me, more independent than me and definitely more empowered than me, leaving me feeling more and more lifeless each time one captures me.

Sure some days I am able to find the strength to re-energize and eat a few “power pellets” allowing me the ability to attack these ghosts head on even if it’s only for a brief moment in time.  But unfortunately when those moments disappear I am left once again trying to figure out what my next maneuver will be in order for me to stay alive because you see, these ghosts are so much faster than I am.

I still do love to play Ms. Pac-Man any chance I get (do you think it’s still a quarter at the arcade?) but now I see it as an even more challenging game than I did before (sure it’s no Candy Crush or Fortnite).  Now when I play it, it is no longer just a game, it is no longer about how many lives I can sustain at once, it is no longer Ms. Pac-Man trying to gain momentum by eating lots of fruit and engineering her way through tunnels, now instead it’s about procuring the art of survival by skillfully manipulating my illness into gobbling up each and every ghost that gets in my way of becoming a stronger me, a more independent me and a more empowered me…metaphorically speaking.