I don’t sleep much at the best of times and what little sleep I do get is often very disruptive and unsettling and a large part is due to my hypersensitivity to noise or in Psychological terms I guess you could call it “Anxiety”.
I’d probably compare myself to that of a dog when it comes to my keen sense of hearing, not the ferocious Cujo looking dog but more like a cuddly little lap dog! Dogs can hear way better than most humans and can also hear from four times further away and at nearly twice as many frequencies. That about sums me up and not just through the night!
Due to my severe anxiety I am easily triggered by many, many sounds and noises which often result in further upset, irritation, distress and even anger. I always feel like I am on high alert and many of the so-called “normal”, everyday noises that we hear feel super amplified in my head which causes me to be alarmed and frightened for a very good part of my days and night. It can be as simple as a door opening, a car driving by or even the sound of footsteps heard overhead.
These triggers don’t always coincide with my anxious thoughts or panic attacks, in fact oftentimes it doesn’t at all but it is so hard for me to ever feel completely relaxed. I find it near impossible to ever fully shut off my brain and with every amplified sound or noise I hear I am automatically thinking something tragic has occurred (and if you don’t believe me you can ask anyone who lives with me lol).
I am slowly learning how to stop myself as the noise amplifies in my head before I go immediately into the worst and most tragic place by telling myself over and over again that nothing bad is happening just like the last time I heard the same noise. It’s a process, just like everything else in my life. But if all else fails I think I’d make a pretty damn good watchdog!
Let me first begin by reiterating to you just how much I love Reality TV (Read my Blog “I’m A Reality TV Junkie”; Aug 5, 2020). It’s one of the greatest escapes ever except lately I think I may have crossed the line between Reality TV and real life.
Each week my PVR is set without fail to record many (many) hours of the chaos and drama of someone else’s life as a way of trying to escape from my own daily chaos and drama. It’s become a welcomed distraction and has also become a perfect way to escape from my own burdensome thoughts and refocus my attention somewhere else.
However, for the last week or so I have found myself engrossed in a new Reality show of sorts, only this time it appears that while watching this show I am unable to distract myself from my own life and it has quickly turned into a very toxic and burdensome obsession.
In all honesty I have a very addictive personality and I am very prone to “Behaviour Based Addictions” which according to Wikipedia is when you “combine a behaviour with a mental state and the repeated routine is therefore associated with the mental state”.
This very toxic and burdensome obsession has now left me with even more sleepless nights than usual, anxious beyond words, crippled with fear, angry as f*ck and not to mention very behind on my nighttime viewing of the many (many) Reality TV shows I tape each week because I just can’t stop watching CNN or checking my Twitter feeds in order to find out what the President of the United States has said or done now.
My intentions for writing this is not to start any kind of a political debate or a war of words between friends but I just wanted to share my thoughts with you because it’s probably safe to say that I’m not alone in how I am feeling right now; shit I’m not even an American citizen, yet I’m feeling quite traumatized and very, very sad.
This is not a Reality Show that any one of us can truly watch these days in order to escape from their own real life and must be especially hard to watch for those who are living right inside the walls of this reality. I will say however that it certainly is oozing with more drama and chaos than even “The Khardashians” or any of “The Real Housewives” franchises but I am really looking forward for the season finale and “Tell All” (reality tv jargon!) to air already! My PVR will be set for sure!
Seriously, like what the f*ck? I figured I was well on my way, just minding my own business, no complaints and thinking “Wow, what’s all the hype about cause this thing called Peri-Menopause ain’t so bad”, but then BAM, outta nowhere my so called “friend” stopped by for a very unwelcomed visit.
OK, so maybe it wasn’t completely outta nowhere but it’s been 6 months already since her last visit and it was probably more like wishful thinking on my part that we had parted ways for good! But if I had to venture a more realistic guess as to why I haven’t seen nor heard from her in all these months, I figure she was just trying to keep to proper social distancing practices.
But uninvited or not, I could feel her coming from miles away days before her arrival this week. It’s a feeling you never forget, and for anyone who ever questioned whether PMS (Pre-Menstral Syndrome) is real or not, I’m here to share with you that it is.
PMS does not affect all women in the same way and for many women, they may only experience some minor discomfort each month. For me though, long before I was ever diagnosed with Depression, I suffered with an array of emotional (and physical) symptoms before my “friend” would pay me a visit which is why I knew she was on her way again.
The physical side of PMS really sucks, but for me who already deals with so much emotional upset in my day to day life having the added emotional unrest makes it that much more difficult and often scary for me to handle.
As I said at the start of my blog, I thought I was well on my way to an easy, almost flawless transition into Menopause even though I was still at least 6 months away from a true victory, but then again, I should have known better because although my hormones are ready, I knew I probably couldn’t escape that easily, that is, not without experiencing at least one hot flash along the way!
Throughout the Pandemic I have followed all the necessary precautions set out by the Government, by Science and by our Health Officials and although it may come as a big surprise to many of you but for the most part the Pandemic itself has not intensified my symptoms of Depression and Anxiety; infact in some ways it’s done just the opposite (I will save that for a later blog).
My steady decline in my Mental Health over the last while has truly had very little to do with the Pandemic itself and much more to do with many other personal factors that were already there long before Covid-19 was ever a thing.
And although I have not allowed all the fear mongering or blatant disrespect, intolerance and judgment towards one another that I see every time I open up my Social Media feeds control my emotions I have grown more and more anxious lately wondering if life will ever feel “normal” again.
As I look back on the last 6 plus months I feel as though the Pandemic has taken us through many different stages, and when I examine those stages closely I can see that they are the same 5 stages a person will often go through when grieving a loss and for months now we have all been grieving the loss of life in some form or another.
The 5 stages of grief which can easily be transferred to life during a Pandemic are as follows: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Sadness & Depression and Acceptance.
Way way back at the end of 2019 the world watched and listened to what was unfolding in China and for several months prior to it reaching the rest of the Globe, if we can all be honest here for just one second, how many of us actually watched in “denial” while clinging to a false, “preferable reality” that this virus wasn’t really going to affect our lives.
And even as it crept closer and closer to us, we were still very much in “denial” as to the kind of impact it was going to have on our lives, but boy oh boy, it didn’t take long before our “denial” turned to “anger”.
We quickly (and rightfully so) became very frustrated and began to put blame on anyone and everyone we could. We angrily wondered how the fuck this could have happened to us and who would of let this happen to us all the while as we sat at home in self-isolation.
Then, as more and more information from the Government, Science and Health Officials came to light we entered into the “bargaining” stage of grief and started our negotiations with the experts. “So you’re telling me that if I stay home or stay 6 feet apart from anyone outside of my bubble or I wear a mask when social distancing is problematic or I use hand sanitizer and wash my hands constantly then after 14 days in quarantine our life can go back to normal, right?”
Well we all know now that it’s alot more complex than that and our “bargaining” and negotiation skills have fallen short, which after months of trying to make the best of this very shitty situation our denial, our anger and our bargaining skills have turned into a deep “sadness” or “depression” for many people around the Globe.
Many of us have lost so much during this Pandemic and many of us have reached a point where their sadness or depression makes them feel as though this is a losing battle, that all our efforts are hopeless. It’s also made us question an inevitable future and our own mortality too.
But there is still one final stage of grief and it’s probably the most important one of all. If we are to find the strength to move forward and learn how to navigate life in our new “normal” then we must first learn “acceptance” of it. Collectively we need to figure out ways to proceed both cautiously and safely because “acceptance” will give us the power to control whatever lies ahead.
We all cope with grief in our own way and in our own time. We may not all go through each of the 5 stages, and maybe none of them at all but no matter your process we all need to remember that we are all in this together.
Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. Every 40 seconds a life is lost around the world to suicide and that is just not acceptable.
It is more important than ever before that we keep talking about suicide because the more we talk about suicide, the more we encourage others to as well. The more we talk about suicide, the less alone someone may feel. The more we talk about suicide, the more change we can make happen. The more we talk about suicide the more lives we can save.
Talking about suicide may not be easy and can also be very uncomfortable (trust me I know) but it’s relevant and it’s a conversation we need to keep having; not just for today but every single day. Talking about suicide may help bring a glimmer of hope or relief to someone’s pain and desperation or even become the light into their darkness.
Collectively these efforts are all key to suicide prevention. Suicide can be prevented.
Over the past week my mind and my heart have been in a constant tug of war with one another and the amount of sadness, anger, guilt and fear I’m feeling right now is unbearable.
Late last night when I couldn’t sleep (as usual) and my mind was spinning out of control (as usual) I began writing down many of my negative thoughts (on an actual piece of paper) in order to release some of the pain in my heart and maybe bring a little bit of clarity to my mind.
As more and more thoughts were emerging onto the piece of paper I began to see a lot of my past and present relationships emerging too, many of whom may have caused me a great amount of negative energy at one time or another in my life.
It was at that moment, while in complete darkness that I saw this as an opportunity to try something I’ve needed to do for a very long time now but haven’t been able to find the courage to.
It’s been told to me many times over the last several years by health care professionals that it can be a very therapeutic tool to try and a great way to release any old emotional wounds or help to heal some of the heaviness from certain relationships that have caused me pain or betrayal and may very well be holding me back.
I began writing very personal, handwritten letters to several of these relationships, both past and present in order to let go of some of the emotional wounds that are taking up too much space in my mind and negative energy in my heart right now.
I wrote it all down, including the hard stuff, the unanswered questions and the things that I could never say aloud. It felt cathartic but at the same time it was a very emotional exercise right up until the moment that I took a deep deep breath and waited to exhale as I tore each piece of paper up one by one and then watched them burn.
I wanted to start by saying thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who reached out to me and my family last night (and today) and for all your heartfelt messages and good wishes.
The other day I posted a blog titled “Home Alone” where I touched upon my current state of being and how much I had both welcomed and appreciated having the entire day and night all to myself on Wednesday. It was the first time in a long, long time that I felt any sense of ease but then sadly, by the next morning, I was right back to where I had been, only now it felt much worse.
By the time I woke up Thursday morning I felt even more guilt, I felt even more sadness, I felt even more anxiety (can’t believe that’s even possible), I felt even more anger, I felt even more of a burden and both my mind and body felt like they could no longer co-exist because I no longer felt like I belonged anywhere and I just needed the pain to finally go away; this time forever.
I have said many times before that I suffer with suicidal thoughts and ideations pretty regularly (probably daily) and I have acted on these urges several times over the course of the last 6 years but by Friday afternoon the voices in my head had become so unbearable and more graphic than ever; and yes I had a plan.
By midday Friday Rich was very concerned for my safety (and rightfully so) that he reached out to my therapist for support and guidance (unbeknownst to me). She then called me so that we could talk through it and strongly suggested that I go to emerg, which I eventually relented to.
I’m not gonna lie when I say that hospitals have become a very scary place for me due to many difficult and frightening experiences I’ve encountered over the last many years relating to my illness and last night was no different, except it kinda was (because everything in the world is different these days).
After speaking with the Emergency room doctor who promised me he would not put me on a form (a 72 hour hold) he had me wait in a quiet room alone until a member of the crisis team could come speak with me and assess my situation further (they are busier than ever these days).
I spoke with her for quite a while and felt much calmer for doing so but by the end of our conversation she recommended that I be admitted to the inpatient ward (which was when my PTSD kicked in to full swing). She was also very honest with me as well. She let me know that because it was the weekend there would be no access to any kind of supports until Monday, except for what she described as a brief meeting with the “on call” weekend Psychiatrist within the first 12 hours of admission (I should know all this by now). It also meant me having no “privileges” to come and go off the floor, no phone (which is where I do most of my writing), and as she started to explain all of the added Covid related restrictions I felt a panic attack coming on and thought that being admitted was actually going to cause me more harm than good.
She was completely understanding to my hesitation and overwhelm and told me the decision was mine to make and that they would be there for me anytime I felt the need to come back. She was especially understanding to my hesitation and overwhelm when I voiced my concerns relating to medication which as I know firsthand is a huge part of most treatment plans in a psych ward. I have not been on medication in quite some time as most of you know by now as it was way more detrimental to my health both physically and mentally than it was good. I’ve been on over 20 concoctions of medication over time which only caused me further issues (including suicide attempts) and so it is no longer an option for me.
I am home for now and trying my best to rest (I didn’t sleep last night) and I need to figure out where I go from here. I no longer know the difference between right from wrong and I no longer know where I even belong anymore. It’s a very scary feeling not knowing where you belong or what’s right from wrong but what I do know is that as broken as I feel right now, I also know that I have the most incredible support system to hold my hand every step of the way.
I’m sure most of you reading this have probably seen or read the news lately and whenever there is any kind of distraction from the Global Pandemic or finding out what the President of the United States (a term I use loosely) has said or done now, we welcome this much needed distraction with open arms. I of course particularly love the distractions that come from Hollywood or Reality TV because (I’ll be honest), those are two of my biggest obsessions in life, but what has been playing out in Hollywood/Reality TV over the past week or so in regards to the Kardashian and West family is truly heartbreaking.
Yes the Kardashians in particular have undoubtedly chosen to be in the public eye and have allowed us into their homes for over ten years now but when the cameras are turned off, the world still watches them in judgment, waiting for the next piece of Tabloid News to hit the stands. At the end of the day they are human which means that they make mistakes, they bleed, they hurt and they are not immune to disease or death either. This also means that no matter what or how they choose to live their lives, it can’t be easy always having the world watching your every move.
It’s been no secret for several years now that Kanye suffers with Bipolar Disorder which is a very complex Mental Disorder. Bipolar Disorder “causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, concentration and the ability to carry out day to day tasks.” A person with a Bipolar Disorder will go through periods of extremely “up, elated, irritable or energized behavior to very down, sad, indifferent or hopeless.”
Bipolar Disorder is a treatable illness and although it can be managed with medication, therapy and other treatments it is also a lifelong illness that normally needs a lifetime of monitoring in order for someone suffering to have a good quality of life. The last thing anyone, famous or not, needs while experiencing a manic or depressive episode of Bipolar is to be met with criticism or abandonment and when it’s being played out so publicly the way it has been with Kanye is sadly being met exactly this way.
My only hope is that Kanye gets the help he so desperately needs right now and that he can begin to use his platform for good (even though he’s got my vote for President. Oh right, I can’t vote!) and let his many fans around the world understand that sickness does not translate into weakness and that sometimes in life we fall down but that it’s okay to ask for help when you need help getting back up again.
We need to learn how to lift each other up with kindness and empathy because no one is immune to Mental Illness.
*I just thought I’d preface this Blog by letting you know that it has been a particularly hard one to write.*
I’ve mentioned recently that I’ve needed a break lately because my mental health has been on a downward spiral. Since I began sharing my journey with you I have done so with the utmost honestly that which has always included open conversations about many of the most intimate and raw moments in my life. But there is still so much I don’t share with you or won’t share for that matter and lately it’s just been so difficult to share much at all (good or bad).
Right now I feel as though both my body and mind are tangled together in one gigantic ball of knots which feels like it’s getting harder and harder to undo each day. I do have moments where I manage to unravel some of the knots or at least loosen them up but before I can catch my breath again they just tighten back up, somedays even more than before.
If I can quote myself here for a brief moment from a Blog I wrote last week titled: Give Me A Break where I said “Everyone has varying degrees of stress that they deal with but when battling with daily symptoms of depression, anxiety and suicidal ideations at the same time can make it particularly difficult to manage.”; and sometimes when this is happening we feel the need to turn to a place of comfort to help us heal and unfortunately that can sometimes include old habits, which is exactly where I found myself at about a week ago.
I hate myself more than ever right now for writing this or for even thinking it out loud, but last week I bought my first pack of cigarettes in almost six months. This week I should be celebrating that I haven’t had a cigarette in six months but instead I am sitting here in shame (and with tears in my eyes) telling you a very different story.
To think that I had made it almost six months without lighting up a cigarette even though I’ve wanted to many, many, MANY times makes me just want to throw up. I feel like an even bigger failure, I mean who wouldn’t, right?
When I made the decision to quit smoking on January 14th while still recovering from a concussion that had occurred on the morning of January 2nd no one could have ever imagined what lay ahead. 2020 has pretty much sucked for most of the world but the Pandemic alone is not what led me to go buy that pack of cigarettes seeing as most of what is going on in my life presently began way before the Pandemic ever did.
Has the Pandemic amplified the urgency of certain issues, 1000 percent it has and smoking had always been there for me in the past to help calm me and although I have reaped the many benefits from the nicotine withdrawal itself, the actual habit of smoking a cigarette has always been on my mind.
Research shows that it can actually take an average smoker 30 attempts before they quit. The good news is that I’m not really enjoying smoking like I did in the past, nor am I smoking nearly what I used to so my plan this time around is to take it slowly and try a different approach, one which allows me to unravel one knot at a time before I even attempt to try and loosen up another one.
Just one final thank you to @cbcthenational for sharing my story so perfectly. Thank you to @kidshelpphone for making a difference in so many young lives and thank you to the “Class of 2020” Graduates for teaching the rest of the world the true meaning of resilience while learning to face adversity head on in a time of so much uncertainty. You may forever be remembered as the “Graduating Class of Covid-19” but the lessons you will take with you as you transition into the next phase of your journey will carry you far beyond what any classroom ever could.
YouAreEnough 
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