Category: breathing exercises

A Hiking We Will Go

This past week has been SUPER busy and SUPER stressful for me and so today felt like the perfect day to go for a hike and recharge before the start of a new week ahead (and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky). We didn’t venture too far from home like we often do by visiting The Rouge Valley Conservation Park right beside the Toronto Zoo. We became one with nature, climbed many hills, skipped rocks, walked down several unmarked paths, got lost numerous times, jumped through rivers and even came face to face with a snake (ask me which one of us screamed louder!)

Hiking has become a way for me to try and escape from the craziness in my head during the summer months. It’s a way to help ease my day to day battle with depression and anxiety even if it’s just for a few hours at a time. Hiking also has so many powerful benefits for our bodies, minds and souls and not to mention it’s an amazing form of exercise with the added bonus of being an affordable way to disconnect from the stresses of our daily life. It can give you a whole new perspective, it’s a healthy challenge, can boost your self-confidence when you are one with mother nature and is especially beneficial when you are able to be present in the moment. As difficult as many of the trails have been that we have done in the past few years or how much pain we may feel the next day, the sense of accomplishment of completing our hike together and planning for our next adventure makes it all worthwhile.

Moving Sucks

It’s been well over a week since I have done any writing. I sometimes find that I put a lot of pressure on myself when I feel I should be writing which of course only leads to so many other dysfunctional impairments in my mind. But I have a good excuse this time even if my mind is more wrapped up in guilt as usual. You see, we moved last week and as many of you know from your own personal experiences, moving can be very stressful. In fact moving is actually listed as one of the top stressors someone will experience in their lifetime. It’s right up there next to divorce, the loss of your job and the loss of a loved one.

So I’m pretty sure that you can only imagine how it affected me. You all know that I suffer with a major depressive disorder and severe anxiety but what many of you may not realize is that the concoction of both these diagnoses combined has also led to a distressing OCD disorder over the last several years and the stress leading up to our move and the days that followed only highlighted it more.

OCD for those of you who may not know stands for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and most often includes obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviours which can become so consuming that they severely affect your daily life. OCD is actually an anxiety disorder “characterized by uncontrollable, unwanted thoughts and ritualized, repetitive behaviours you feel compelled to perform.” And like any other anxiety disorder, you probably have a clear understanding that your obsessive thoughts and compulsive behaviours are not rational yet you are still unable to resist them.

Moving to a new home comes with several psychological and emotional stresses. It can symbolize new beginnings to many which of course would be my number one wish but for me instead it comes with fear, worry, doubt and anxiety first. My obsessive thoughts and impulses take up a great deal of my time and energy and my mind is constantly cluttered by my compulsions leading much of the time to panic and anger.

There was however an upside to our move and although it may feed right into my OCD, it also helps to release some anxiety at the same time. It may also produce a lot of chaos around me as well but at the same time it can help to release some anxiety too by having the ability to declutter and rid myself of all the toxicity from my previous residence (and there was plenty). I am also so grateful to have so many special people in my life who helped lessen some of the clutter and chaos in my mind this past week with every genuine jester and act of kindness both physically and emotionally 🙂

April 4, 2014: It’s Been Five Long Years;(

It’s been a really tough week for me, like omfg tough. It’s been a roller coaster of emotions causing so much pain and anguish which in turn leads to very scary and intrusive thoughts. I’m used to it by now though because you see, I’ve been on this roller coaster ride for 1,825 days, 43,800 hours and 2,628,000 minutes (no wonder I feel so nauseous all time). It was five years ago today; April 4, 2014 when I headed out the door to go to work that Friday morning like any other seemingly normal weekday, but by five o’clock that afternoon my entire world came crumbling down and I have been trying to put the pieces of my life back together ever since.

That Friday morning, April 4, 2014, I was doing what I had been doing for several months. I was heading to a job that I hated. A job that made me doubt my self-worth. A job that made me uncomfortable. A job that made me question my integrity. A job that made me compromise my morals and a job that made me feel unsafe. Ok so it wasn’t so much the job itself that did all that, but in actuality it was a boss who did.

Turns out I was working for a crook, a scam artist and one mighty smooth talking jackass (actually there were two of them!). I started to realize very early on that this crook, scam artist and smooth talking jackass was doing some very illegal shit and partaking in some very immoral behaviours which included ponzi/pyramid schemes and stealing money from innocent and unsuspecting people (your welcome to google his name because it’s all there for the world to see on the world wide web).

He wooed me for several months before I decided to leave another job to start working with him. When I did eventually start working with him I was so excited and thought I had finally found a job that I could build into a thriving career. I fell for his charm (stupid, stupid me) but at least I was lucky enough to have only invested my time with him and not my money.

But on April 4, 2014 after I was asked to do something I felt was ethically and morally wrong I packed up my belongings and hightailed it out of there. I got into my car completely petrified and completely broken (but at least he actually paid me that day, unlike so many previous weeks). I drove around petrified and broken for hours upon hours while my entire family and many friends headed out all over the city trying to find me because the last thing I did after leaving my office was tell my husband I wanted to die and then I turned off my phone.

It was on that day that I lost my will to live. It was on that day that I became hopeless. It was on that day that I felt worthless. It was on that day that I realized I was a complete and utter failure and it was on that day that I discovered just how much of a burden I truly am. Something inside of me snapped that day five years ago or so it might of seemed at the time, but what I didn’t know then was I had truly been suffering in silence for a long, long time and didn’t even realize it.

A great deal of my pain and suffering is from many of the regrets I have in my life and although it’s only human to have some regrets throughout your lifetime, if they are not safely managed they can turn into depression and anxiety. Many of my regrets have left me feeling completely broken and feeling like I have absolutely no purpose in my life either. But at least now I can recognize how much power many of my regrets have taken away from me so that maybe I will one day be able to build from those regrets and find my true purpose in this world (this does not include my role as wife and mom).

In Memory Of Lance: Our Broken Healthcare System

A couple of weeks ago I shared a post on Facebook which originated from the York Regional Police website in regards to a missing person in Thornhill. It’s sadly not uncommon to see such posts being shared by so many of us but this time around for me it wasn’t just a nameless face I was staring at on the screen but instead it was a face of a man that I had known since I was 8 years old. We both moved to Thornhill around the same time and attended the same Elementary and High School together. Our paths first crossed the year I had moved from Montreal and Lance had immigrated all the way from South Africa.

When the initial shock wore off I quickly became flooded with memories of a guy I once considered a friend. I remembered how funny he was, I remembered his beautiful smile, I remembered how disciplined he was, I remembered what a thriving gymnast he was (through his adolescent and teenage years he worked his butt off as a gymnast with the Canadian National Gymnastics team), I remembered how he fought so hard to pursue his dreams to the fullest and I remembered how much all the girls in Elementary school chased after him. And although we had gone our separate ways after High School I never forgot about my friend Lance and all those memories.

The only real contact we have had in the last 10 plus years was through Social Media but other than knowing he had become a lawyer, I didn’t know much more. He kept a very quiet presence on Facebook and I had no idea that a few days later after seeing his missing person picture all over Facebook that I would learn his fate and that Lance was no longer considered a missing person but instead that he had succumb to his battle with mental illness.

Every time I hear about another suicide it completely throws me into a tailspin but when I read about Lance’s lifelong struggles today through an article that was recently written by a Crime and Justice Reporter in connection to an interview conducted with both Lance’s mom and dad I became even more angry and even more saddened to learn the details of his pain and suffering. He battled with many mental illnesses, but his severe OCD is what began his demise, crippling his ability to function and ultimately leading to other diagnosis’s of depression and anxiety.

His parents talk at great length in the article about Lance’s struggle to find the proper treatment he so desperately yearned for and their heartbreaking words so sadly resonated with me, knowing that I face the same obstacles everyday with that same broken Mental Healthcare System. Their words made me feel so disheartened for him and every other individual struggling to find that proper treatment. It is so distressing just knowing how many other people like Lance or myself also feel so ostracized and stigmatized because of their mental illness.

The sad reality is that Lance’s story isn’t an isolated one, I mean I talk in great length and often about how broken our Mental Healthcare System is and it doesn’t seem to be getting any better with each new day or each new obstacle I face. This is why it’s more important than ever to talk, cry or shout about how badly our system is failing you or maybe your mom, your brother, your best friend or your own child. We have to be the voice and keep fighting to let all the Lance’s out there know that their lives were not lost in vain.

Feel free to read the article I referenced above.
https://www.yorkregion.com/news-story/9223123-frustration-of-life-health-care-system-claims-thornhill-athlete-ocd-sufferer/

Some Memories Are Unforgettable: Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT)

Lately I’ve been noticing that my ability to retain small amounts of information is becoming more and more troublesome. If I don’t jot things down right away then I am sure to forget many significant or even trivial details that may be of importance to me. I also find myself losing my train of thought while in the midst of a conversation or even forgetting what I am talking about all together. Although I have been struggling more recently with my short term memory loss it has actually been of concern ever since I made the decision to do ECT (Electroconvulsive Therapy) 4 years ago.

I have mentioned ECT several times in my blogs but I have never really gone into much detail about my actual experience. But before I go any further I want you to know that this is by no means a public service announcement or in any way a deterrent from changing someone’s thoughts or feelings on this method of treatment or any other for that matter.

This, like everything else I write about is my own truth, my own story and my own reality. My intention is never to discourage someone from trying anything that may be beneficial to their own treatment of depression or other mental illnesses because if there is one thing I have learned throughout my journey it’s that no two truths are the same, no two stories are the same and certainly no two realities are either.

I share my own truth, my own story and my own reality in order to help give others some insight into this dreadful disease by bringing about more awareness, more change and more understanding. It’s not so black and white like many want to believe, there is often a lot of grey in between too. And it’s that grey area that led me to try ECT.

ECT has been around since the 1930’s which has thankfully been updated over time since the days of “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest”, but still carries with it many of the same stigmas. ECT works by using electricity to induce seizures as a way of relieving the symptoms of many mental illnesses.

When I entered the hospital in October 2014 ECT was quickly presented to me as an option for treatment. I declined right away, but 2 months into my stay I was left feeling so defeated from the many medications that were failing me, that I decided to revisit the option, mostly because I just wanted to go home. I had observed many other patients regularly being scheduled for the treatment and I thoroughly trusted my team of doctors in my care. That was until I began my own treatment and almost immediately regretted my decision.

To have the best possible outcome, ECT is done a few times per week at a minimum of 8 to 12 sessions. Every morning that I was scheduled for a session a nurse would come into my room around 5:30 am, turn on all the lights, wake me up and start taking my temperature and blood pressure. Then the real fun began when she started pricking me with a needle in order to put the IV pic in my hand. I then could choose to go back to sleep or what I did instead was anxiously await my turn to be called down to the OR which could sometimes be many hours later. Once I was wheeled downstairs into what felt like a dungeon, I lay down on a cold hard table and the next thing I would feel was a sharp coldness burn through my veins as they injected me with the anesthetic before I drifted off to sleep.

Once the procedure was done and I was awake they would monitor me for about an hour until I was stable enough to go back upstairs. The days that I had treatment were extra hard for me as the immediate side effects were usually exhaustion, headaches and muscle pain. But I also began to experience terrible panic attacks from the whole treatment in general. My doctor tried to ease some of my panic and fears by making sure that I was first on the list of patients every time treatment day rolled around but after my seventh session and of course no sign of relief in sight I decided I couldn’t do another day.

If there was any sign that some of my symptoms were lifting I may have fought through the agony it was causing me but if after seven sessions of torturing myself to get through just one more, left me thinking there’s no way one more is gonna make a difference (but never doubt that my feeling like a failure again doesn’t cross my mind daily). And I was also beginning to understand the severity of how much memory loss I was having. Much of December 2014 and well into that new year have been pretty much erased from my mind and maybe that’s for the best, but it never seemed to have fully restored to the capacity I functioned at before I began the treatment.

I know ECT has saved many lives, but it just couldn’t save this one. I saw it save lives right before my eyes. I’ve seen brightness again in someone’s eyes and hope in another’s heart. They are the brightness and hope I’ve been longing for and the memories that never leave my mind.

My Vicious Circle

Depression and anxiety suck the life right out of me, both literally and figuratively. They make me feel inferior. They make me feel angry. They make me feel exhausted. They make me lose my sense of self-worth and they make me lose my will to live. Basically to sum it all up in one word, depression and anxiety make me feel useless.

Depression and anxiety create a vicious circle for me, one which can cause injurious results when trying to change one bad situation or behaviour that may be caused by another situation or behaviour and in turn often causes more damage to the original situation.

I try, I really do. I can even present myself to the world sometimes as eager and enthusiastic when I engage in tasks or chores that may be seen as appealing and enjoyable to most people but for me these simple tasks and chores quickly create a newer or greater problem by exasperating the old one and triggering a continuum of that vicious circle. Those seemingly simple tasks or chores rapidly become too overwhelming, too intimidating and darn right near impossible to follow through with, creating a wall (way bigger than Trump’s wall) which I don’t have the strength to climb over, precipitating further anxiety, panic and self-hate.

At first my eagerness and enthusiasm seem like a great idea, especially when looking on from the outside in. I want so badly to prove to the world that I can do it, but then without warning those emotions fabricated by my depression and anxiety cause me to feel worse, cause me to feel like a failure and most definitely cause me to feel useless. It’s as though I will never be able to accomplish anything at all and these overburdening emotions have taken away my will to want do anything at all anymore.

I know that several of my current situations I’m dealing with (and there are many) I have to approach in their own distinct manner as they all have their own distinct set of attributes but once I take a step back, take in a few deep breaths, ask myself some very important questions, set some very important boundaries, cry, yell and berate myself further I just feel more overwhelmed and muddled. I’m desperately trying to stop my vicious circle from continuing to spin out of control because listening to that voice in your head tell you all the time that you are incapable of achieving anything really can make anyone feel useless.

Poem: I Want To Live, But I Want To Die

POEM: I WANT TO LIVE, BUT I WANT TO DIE

I want to live, but I want to die
It’s an endless struggle, I will not lie.

I want to live, but I want to die
My heart is heavy, there’s no denying.

I want to live, but I want to die
I find some comfort when I can cry.

I want to live, but I want to die
I dream of ways to say goodbye.

I want to live, but I want to die
My feelings are valid and very justified.

I want to live, but I want to die
Will I ever become that butterfly?

I want to live, but I want to die
I feel so confused and mostly terrified.

I want to live, but I want to die
So I need to ask the question why?

I want to live, but I want to die
It’s so hard some days to even try.

I want to live, but I want to die
I wish the two could see eye to eye.

I want to die, but I want to live
To show my illness what more I have left to give.

Just Breathe

The last few days have been particularly difficult for me and one of the most important things I need to remember when I am feeling especially vulnerable is that I need to breathe. Most people take breathing for granted as it’s just something we do without giving it a second thought but for me when my emotions are running awry breathing can take a great deal of effort. There are so many days that I wish I didn’t have to breathe at all and when my emotions become exceptionally clouded where I feel an overwhelming sense of powerlessness to this disease, finding the right tools to help me breathe are more important than anything. I know that it’s okay to not be okay, I know that it’s okay to reach out for support when doing it alone just seems too hard and I also know that I’m not alone when it comes to my emotions so I have added some videos below which were created by a friend of mine to help anyone looking for that additional support, teaching us the proper techniques on how important it is to just breathe.