“The act of forgiveness takes place in your own mind. It really has nothing to do with the other person.”~ Louise Hay
Forgiveness is a gentle act and a gift of self love. I have learned over the last several years that holding on to anger I have toward someone who has hurt me only creates further pain.
Forgiveness means no longer feeling burdened by your past.
Forgiveness doesn’t have to mean reconciliation, approval or making space to welcome someone back into your world, it just means choosing to rise above it by moving forward, free of bitterness and resentment.
Forgiveness allows you to put the situation behind you for your own well being and integrity. It means taking back the power and control you have over yourself.
The past few years I’ve had a big shift in the area of my relationships and whether it be a friendship, a family member or even an acquaintance; it can get very complicated.
Some shifts in my relationships have brought with it a sigh of relief, a feeling of anger and plenty of sadness but through my own personal journey toward healing and with time, they have also brought forgiveness.
I’ve learned that holding on to the bitterness and resentment is only hurting me.
Forgiveness doesn’t always happen right away. For some people or in some circumstances it can take a lot longer to forgive, but it’s never too late to learn the art of forgiveness.
As I move into this next chapter of my life I am now making a conscious effort and a very selfless decision when it pertains to my own mental health and well-being that I choose who I get to invite into my life.
I’ve always let people walk into my life very easily, sometimes too easily and I’ve done so without actually stopping to ask myself first if I really have the energy or mental capacity needed in order to have a healthy relationship with this person at this moment in time.
I’m a pretty open book (that’s an obvious one) and I wear my heart on my sleeve (also pretty obvious) which, at times has left me feeling very vulnerable and indefensible in some of my relationships and sadly it’s come back to bite me in the ass many, many times.
By learning how to forgive others who have held way too much unwarranted space in my heart for far too long has really afforded me the ability to make so much more room in my life for the people who genuinely want to be there and vice versa.
It’s opened up space to have real and honest relationships with people who can truly accept my limitations and vice versa, who see me as perfectly imperfect and vice versa, who don’t question my boundaries and vice versa, who support my endeavors and vice versa, who want nothing more than for me to be happy and vice versa, who are there to listen when I just need to talk, without judgment and vice versa and most of all, who love me for being my true authentic self and vice versa.
I have so much to be grateful for when it comes to the amazing relationships I have in my life right now. And whether you are a friend, a family member or even an acquaintance of mine I hope you know that you always have an open invitation.
No I’m like freaking beyond overwhelmed right now.
I’ve reached my tipping point and I’m finding it real challenging to keep my balance in check.
Good mental health is a balancing act.
It takes a lot of trial and error.
I know my weaknesses.
I know my limitations.
I know what makes me happy.
I struggle to accept help from others.
I struggle to set boundaries.
I struggle to say no.
I’m overwhelmed.
No I’m like freaking beyond overwhelmed right now.
I’ve reached my tipping point and I’m finding it real challenging to keep my balance in check.
Balancing one’s mental health is “learning to find a way to do the things we have to do and the things we want to do without changing the hours in the day.”
I can’t find my balance right now. I’m tired.
I’m feeling hopeless.
Quick to anger.
Anxious.
Guilt.
Sadness.
I’m an organizer, a fixer, a multi-tasker.
But I can’t concentrate.
My brain is scattered.
I can’t complete a simple task.
I’m overwhelmed.
No I’m like freaking beyond overwhelmed right now.
I’ve reached my tipping point and I’m finding it real challenging to keep my balance in check.
Good mental health is a balancing act.
It’s not something that can be achieved in a day.
My mental health depends on it and so does my mental wellness.
I’m deserving of both. So are you.
But it may take a lot of trial and error in order to get there.
How do you balance your mental health and wellness?
Today is World Health Day. Its campaign has become a day of recognition around the Globe since 1948 and was first created by the World Health Organization (WHO), a name that has become increasingly more and more familiar to all of us since the Pandemic started.
This year’s campaign is focused on building a “fairer, healthier world” for everyone but living in Canada right now it doesn’t feel fair at all.
The vaccine rollout in Ontario (and Canada) has been a complete and utter disaster (imo) and I can’t believe that I am actually about to say this after what we have all witnessed over the past year in the United States but I am beyond envious of all my friends and family living south of the border right now as I witness the success of how their vaccines are being rolled out (and Israel, well they deserve a fricken gold star!).
Earlier this morning both Rich and I were able to book appointments to get vaccinated simply because the Government has now deemed our postal code a “hot spot” along with several others in our region which has afforded us and anyone else in these select few areas who are between the ages of 45 and 59 years old to do so as well.
I’m not gonna lie, once we both received our confirmation emails with our appointment times set in place I became super emotional (surprise, surprise there were actual tears) that this was actually about to happen.
I am beyond grateful to be given this opportunity and I feel that it is my duty to get vaccinated when my time comes in order to help stop the spread of Covid-19; but I’m angry all at the same time.
I’m angry that teachers and admin staff have not been prioritized to receive a vaccination first or the factory workers, grocery store clerks, wait staff in restaurants, construction workers, immune compromised individuals, those in more marginalized communities, the 20 something year olds who have been blamed most for spreading the virus and everyone else who works in an essential service and CANNOT work from home.
I just hope that soon enough all Canadians (and many other parts of the world) can celebrate World Health Day together by actually building a fairer, healthier (and more united) world to live in.
This picture (which popped up on my Facebook “Memory Wall” early this morning) not only captures Jacob’s goofy, loveable personality but it also captures the true essence of what passion, commitment, determination and hard work all look like as well.
Seeing it quickly reminded me just how much I miss watching him play hockey (even if being a goalie mom is one of the most stressful things ever lol) and it also reminded me of a piece I wrote (before I started my actual blog) near the end of Jacob’s last season in Minor League Hockey and well, I just felt like sharing it with you one more time.
**Spoiler alert: he has never stopped being part of a team since leaving the Minor League Hockey world; that was until stupid Covid forced him to take a break last Spring.
*Original Post: Feb 1, 2016*
For the past 12 years being a hockey mom has been a huge part of who I am. I still remember putting Jacob on the ice in his first year of House League all dressed in his hockey gear and hardly able to skate and then, BOOM; the goalie skated by him and they accidentally collided into one another and Jacob broke his wrist.
Fast forward 2 years, Jacob waiting patiently for his turn to play goalie in a tournament. He did such an amazing job and from that day forward Jacob’s dream of becoming a goalie was fulfilled.
One year later he joined a more competitive level team with his friends which has now become our family for the last 9 years. He has improved and worked hard to become a successful goalie since then through perseverance, training, coaching and his love of being a goalie.
Throughout the years hockey has defined our family dynamics, always working our lives around where the next game or tournament is; yes, being a hockey Mom has been a title I will hold near and dear to my heart forever. The ups and downs, I wouldn’t change a thing. But now what?
With only a handful of games left in what is Jacob’s final year of minor league hockey (and hopefully a few more if they make the playoffs), I am sure he will continue to play for many years to come in the adult world but what about the hockey Mom? Where does that leave me?
No more schlepping from one end of the GTA to the other, no more car stinking like a pair of dirty socks, no more cheering when the team scores the game winning goal and no more hockey family.
I have dreaded this day coming for a long time now but I know that Jacob’s commitment he has made to his teammates and coaches alike through the last 12 years will help to define him as he faces many new challenges ahead of him and well, as for me, I will always be grateful for what hockey has given him, and what he has given me; his “Hockey Mom” ❤
I had a massage this afternoon, the first one in several years.
My kids had bought it for me as a gift last Mother’s Day.
At the time when they purchased it the Spa was closed due to lockdown restrictions and by the time it did finally reopen, to be perfectly honest, I just kept forgetting about it. That was until a few weeks ago when I hurt my back and thought once I’m feeling better I should get a massage!
Massages, like mindfulness or meditation are supposed to be a perfect way to relax and relieve anxiety and stress, but seriously, have you met me before?
My track record with both mindfulness and meditation have never been met with much success for me and usually do the complete opposite of what they are meant for and now I guess I may as well add massage to that list too.
It was the perfect setting for a massage; the lights were dim, there was a subtle aroma in the air, soothing music playing in the background and the massage therapist was both gentle and calming. So what could possibly go wrong?
I have no ‘F’ ing idea to be perfectly honest with you but as soon as the massage began and for the next 50 minutes or so I felt like I was going to suffocate (and not just because of my mask).
My thoughts were racing all over the damn map and my mind was filled with such chaos. There was no real pattern or focus to speak of, just complete disarray. I tried several times to relax my body but my mind was having none of that nonsense.
I needed to find a way to distract myself and so I tried some of my go-to techniques and tools I’ve learned throughout my journey but nothing seemed to be working. I felt myself becoming more and more vulnerable in a “fight or flight” state of mind which only kept escalating when I quickly realized that fleeing the situation was likely not an option.
So I continued to lay there feeling very helpless with tears in my eyes, trying to estimate how much time I still had left all the while shouting at my mind to just shut the ‘F’ up and let my body cherish this beautiful gift I received from my kids!
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!
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.
The week we first went into lockdown 5 months ago this week (in case you’ve forgotten!) I had an appointment scheduled with my Psychiatrist to begin a new treatment. The decision for me to even attempt yet another new treatment was not an easy one to make, especially since it’s still quite new and not very accessible to the general public as of now; and not to mention that I had already been part of a clinical study for a more invasive version of the same treatment several years earlier during a hospital admission that I needed to stop immediately.
The first dose was to be administered by my Psychiatrist in his office at the hospital he works out of to ensure that I could tolerate it and from there I would be monitored closely as I continued treatment several times a week from my home. It’s now been five long months since that initial appointment was postponed inevitably as I continue to struggle deeply on a daily basis.
As most of you who follow my journey regularly know by now that my relationship with medication and treatment options (both traditional and MANY non-traditional as well) to help ease my symptoms associated with anxiety and depression have been met with many obstacles, extreme challenges and sometimes severe complications to say the least. So when I discovered CBD oil a few years ago and found immediate relief from it while experiencing high levels of anxiety throughout any given day (even if it’s only temporary), I’ve come to rely on it like you would rely on any loyal and trustworthy friend.
Although it’s been far from a cure and (unfortunately) for me it has yet to give my symptoms of depression any type of real relief I’m still so grateful to know that just like my many loyal, trustworthy friends I have in my life, it’s a safe and reliable way to help me cope with my often severe and very persistent daily bouts of anxiety and panic attacks because I really don’t know how I’d ever get through so many difficult days (and nights) without any of them.
Yesterday I went to a one hour aqua fit class in the morning followed by a 2.5 hour walk later on and finished my day off with a warm and very soothing bubble bath.
My brain is always working in overdrive and I am easily overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks while desperately trying to get through my never-ending “to-do-list”. Even thinking about all the things I need to get done or would like to achieve and then don’t, completely depletes my already less than empty “mental gas tank”.
Mental fatigue is real and the more that things seem to escalate in my life right now, the less able I am to take a pause from reality which then causes me to become totally incapable of much. The overwhelm takes my mind to a whole other place and I become paralyzed with fear and emotionally drained.
Being mentally exhausted often goes hand in hand with extreme and ongoing levels of stress in one’s life which I find I am so easily distracted by and extremely anxious about and very quickly will turn into procrastination.
Procrastination comes from a Latin term which translates to “for tomorrow” and very often I find myself taking my “to-do-list” and moving it over to tomorrow in my calendar. Yesterday was no exception, but is taking a “Me” day really considered procrastination?
What is one thing you find you procrastinate most about?
YouAreEnough 
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