Category: Honesty

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”.

It’s Just A Car

IT’S JUST A CAR

This past winter I suffered a severe panic attack while driving (which I have talked about before) and it has left me unable to drive more than a few kilometres from my home or outside set parameters.  Since then I have had to execute a plan to include some healthy and attainable boundaries for myself and my family when it comes to my driving as I can easily become anxious and uncomfortable when I have a passenger in my car as well.  It has even affected me to the point where I sometimes feel that same uneasiness as a passenger in my own vehicle or someone else’s. These uneasy and panicked feelings are what ultimately led me to make the decision last month to get rid of my personalized license plates as well (see blog June 18, 2018).

Everytime I get into my car nowadays and pull out of my driveway (with extreme caution) I immediately detect a sense of impairment in the open space surrounding me and experience a loss of control.  I fear that I am going to hit something or someone at every turn or that someone is about to hit me; a feeling that never affected me until this past winter. Before such time I always enjoyed driving and even found it somewhat relaxing so long as there were no screaming babies or teenagers in the car at the time and that it was before sundown as I have been unable to drive at night in about 3 years.  I can also no longer listen to music while I am driving either as I find it too distracting and can often feed into my negative thought patterns; although alternatively, listening to the news is definitely not a better option these days for myself or anyone else for that matter!

It is not uncommon for someone to form a fear or phobia of driving at some point in their lifetime and often times it may be due in part to the involvement in a car accident whether or not it was their fault or even the severity of it.  A few years ago I was involved in a car accident where I was rear ended pretty badly and although I was suffering with anxiety and depression at the time it didn’t affect my ability to continue driving; but that was then and this is now.

A phobia is defined as a fear that is paralyzing, yet irrational which basically sums up most aspects of my life these days but yesterday it completely solidified my fear of driving.  You see, yesterday as I was heading home from a weekly appointment it began to pour (which for the very hot and dry summer that we have been having it was kind of a welcomed necessity), and I wanted to get home more than ever when suddenly while waiting anxiously at a red light I felt a big jolt from behind me and heard an even bigger bang.  It took me a moment or two to get my bearings and realize that it wasn’t from the thunder and lightning but instead I had just been rear ended…again.

F**k, all I was trying to do was get home to my poor little puppy (well she’s 7 but whatever) who I knew was probably having her own panic attack from the thunderstorm but if I’ve learned anything over the last four years it’s that life doesn’t always go as planned.  It would be another 3 to 4 hours until I would finally reach my front door by which time I was drenched, shaken and left with an even greater fear of driving.

The accident, plain and simply was just that, an accident.  The woman driving was distracted by her irritable toddler in the backseat and it was pouring cats and dogs which was lucky for her as the officer did not press charges because of the rain.  My car is damaged and upon further inspection it turns out that there is a lot more destruction than at first glance of the obvious as the underneath and inside were bent, broken and bruised as well.  But you know what they say, IT’S JUST A CAR which can be fixed and THANKFULLY no one was physically hurt. And they are right, IT’S JUST A CAR and THANKFULLY no-one was physically hurt but at the same time it has further damaged by mental wellbeing.

The accident, even though it was not my fault in any way has now left me in an absolute state of panic and apprehension.  For the last 24+ hours I have been completely overpowered by my entire body and mind leaving me feeling even more paralyzed with fear and even more irrational than before.  My anxiety and depression have also managed to somehow overpower any positive thinking patterns with very negative ones (guilt, blame, worthlessness). They have left me unable to focus on what is truly most important right now and are trying their damndest to invalidate and refute these indisputable feelings which would be to have the ability to recognize and appreciate that it was just an accident, it wasn’t my fault and that nobody was physically hurt.  But instead today, just like my bumper, I am left feeling bent, broken and bruised.

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.

I’m Truly Sorry, From My Depression & Anxiety

I’M TRULY SORRY, FROM MY DEPRESSION & ANXIETY

*Warning; Some Sensitive Content*

Lately I feel like maybe I should be wearing a sign around my neck that reads “I’m Sorry” because my illness has made me feel like I am constantly doing something wrong each and every day and I seem to be apologizing endlessly for my actions or words. An apology is an expression of regret or an acknowledgement of an offense or error. It may also be used when someone is unable to do something or attend an invited event. So you see, my need to incessantly apologize seems pretty darn relevant, right? Well if there is one thing I know for sure it’s that my illness most definitely would agree.

I have created an endless list in my mind as to why I always feel the need to apologize for my illness, a list which I have created out of guilt, remorse, regret and the belief that I am a colossal burden to everyone in my life; and for this I am truly sorry. My illness has not just left an enormous impact on my life but it has also left a significant impact on the lives of so many countless others. My intent has never been to maliciously set out to hurt these countless individuals but my illness seems to have a mind of its own; and for this I am truly sorry.

I’m sorry if you felt as though I somehow intentionally pushed you away or made you feel as though I no longer needed you because you were unable to help me so out of frustration you subtly and indiscreetly removed yourself from my life; the phone calls, the texts, the invitations, one by one slowly began to fade away. I’m sorry if I make you feel that your efforts are unwelcome or undesired when you have tried to send me positive energy and encouraging reinforcements and all I can do is allow my negative self-talk to intervene once again. Please know that my heart detects your genuine intentions and is truly disheartened and sorry.

I’m sorry if I have neglected you during your own sadness and pain or have been unable to be “present” (both literally and figuratively) to celebrate in your happiness or success. My own darkness often consumes me to the point that I am no longer aware of my surroundings and feel numb to the world around me. I’m sorry if I have hurt your feelings or made you feel as though your sentiments aren’t as important as mine but it is just too overwhelming for me much of the time.

I’m sorry if I may frighten you when I talk openly and honestly of suicide and wanting to end my pain. My words come from a place of hopelessness and from an illness that sincerely believes that I am both a burden and a liability to you. My illness tells me that I have nothing to give you in return except for anguish and sorrow and that by relieving you of this burden you will be much better off without me even though my heart may tell me otherwise.

I am especially sorry for those closest to me in my life, the ones who see me everyday and have had to bear witness to the destruction and havoc that my illness has caused our family unit, or the amount of times that it has disappointed, scared and frustrated them. I’m sorry for how my illness has treated you at times, I’m sorry for being distracted from what truly matters, I’m sorry for not always being there for you and I’m sorry for causing you sadness.

I know it may be difficult for you to understand at times, but please know that I am so grateful to everyone who has stuck by me and for loving me unconditionally. I know in my heart that I truly don’t have anything to be sorry for that pertains to my illness as I did not intentionally cause it to happen, but the guilt I feel, the remorse I detect, the regret that I endure and the belief that I am a colossal burden to everyone in my life makes it very tiresome to disregard and for that I am truly sorry.

How Meditation Made Me Feel Like A Failure Once Again

HOW MEDITATION MADE ME FEEL LIKE A FAILURE ONCE AGAIN

*Warning: Sensitive Content*

So another “Summer of Rich” (as he has so lovingly pegged it) officially began at exactly 3pm sharp yesterday afternoon as soon as the bus drove away with our very excited CIT (counsellor in training) and her friends to join her siblings at camp for the next 7 weeks.  He didn’t want to waste a single moment of his much anticipated “break” and so we headed straight away to get our annual husband and wife pedicures (well his is annual).  The last few summers albeit very quiet and less demanding on one hand have also been met with some of our most challenging and difficult hardships to date and so while he was enjoying his soothing and relaxing pedicure it was wonderful to see from the gigantic smile on his face that he was breathing a much needed sigh of relief.

The last couple of weeks for me have been some of the most wearing and tiresome days I have had in a little while which of course only adds to my husband’s long list of tensions and worries (and enthusiasm for the kids to be gone all summer).  I only wish that I could have been breathing that same sigh of relief as my husband was feeling but I just couldn’t.  My mind has been in a complete state of chaos lately and my thoughts have become more and more vivid and scary.   Throughout my journey I have been given many tools to work with in order to turn these vivid and scary thoughts into a more positive and favourable vibe however right now it ain’t flying.

Last weekend when we visited the Healing Sanctuary on my birthday (which I wrote about last week), we were invited to attend a special one night, free meditation class being given by a woman who’s passion, insight and education toward understanding our mind, body and spirit led her to begin teaching the art of meditation two decades ago and has since worked with some of the most renowned spirit leaders in the world.  Although I have been taught some simple breathing exercises and listened to some mindful apps on my phone I have never actually been guided through a bona fide meditation which is something I have wanted to do for quite some time.  We decided that together we would attend the class (and I brought a friend along too) which we knew fell on our first evening of “The Summer of Rich”.  We both went with an open mind and heart in order to learn some inspiring meditation practices that we can apply to our daily lives.

Meditation can benefit anyone and everyone and I truly see its importance in helping someone to reduce stress, anxiety, depression or pain.  It may also assist someone in finding their inner peace, alter their perception of the world around them and in general open our mind’s up to a mentally clear and emotionally calm state; that is unless you’re me!  Last night instead of coming out of the class with a great big sigh of relief and some glimmer of hope that I had wished for (and long for more than anything), I was left feeling like I had failed once again.  Who knew that meditation could leave someone feeling like a failure or that it could actually do more harm than good?

Well I guess I learned something new last night either way because I’m pretty sure that a benefit of meditation is not to have acute heart palpitations or racing thoughts, but what made me feel somewhat at ease after the class was over was when I discussed my experience with the teacher and found out that I am actually not alone.  You see, meditation can be a very powerful tool for someone’s mental and physical wellbeing and when done properly (as it was last night) it can also magnify one’s own self-awareness which can be tremendously valuable to many but for me it simply awakened my current state of helplessness and left me once again feeling very discouraged as I continue casting further judgment upon myself.

I am also left asking myself if there really is such a thing as a light at the end of the tunnel?  Could a subtype of meditation (and mindfulness) techniques bring upon a different outcome for me?   Does practice really make perfect?  Would love to hear some of your experiences with meditation, thank you in advance and oh ya; ‘Namaste’ to you all.

Depression: “Anger Turned Inward”

Depression: “Anger Turned Inward”

*Warning: Very Sensitive Content*

When you think of a person with depression intuitively you may perceive that someone to be feeling hopeless, worthless or sad but most of us would not immediately think of that same person as having feelings of anger or even rage.  Well it’s true; it is a very real and common symptom of depression that will only reek further havoc on a person who is battling with depression.  In fact, Sigmund Freud often referred to depression as ‘anger turned inward’, and I myself am scared that the irritability I feel, the self-blame I harbour and the hopelessness I bear is keeping me from being able to fight this disease anymore because I have become so angry.

Sigmund Freud’s theory, although stated probably a century ago still holds true today and shows us that anger can and will worsen or exacerbate our symptoms of depression and the severity of the disease.  No matter what situation I face every day or how hurt and betrayed I may feel, the anger automatically turns inward and it has become increasingly more and more painful.  Depression makes me feel like I am having an out of body experience as if I have become detached from my own body and I am looking down upon the person I no longer recognize and definitely the person I no longer wish to be and this makes me even more angry.

So you see depression not only makes a person feel hopeless, worthless and sad but it will also make them feel angry.  You see, for starters, depression keeps me awake late at night and up early in the morning.  It makes me toss and turn for hours on end and that lack of sleep causes me additional irritability and the inability to cope with my day-to-day struggles.  It has also made me feel disconnected from my loved ones, disinterested in activities I once enjoyed and I am continuously mourning an overwhelming sense of loss, loss that is of the person I used to be before the Depression set in, which too makes me undergo a great deal of anger.

I know the anger I feel is directed at my Depression itself and even though I know in my heart that it is an illness, I still continue to place blame on myself everyday while battling with an immense amount of guilt for burdening my loved ones with the responsibility of it.  Unfortunately my brain tells me that it’s all my fault, that I’m weak, I’m incompetent and of course that I’m a big fat failure; who wouldn’t feel angry and enraged if someone was constantly telling you all those things?

Depression has stolen four years of my life thus far and you know what, I’m so damn angry.  I have missed out on so much of life especially pertaining to my kid’s lives and I’m so damn angry.  I have lost my ability to find enjoyment in many of the little, yet important things in life and I’m so damn angry.  I have lost time to do the things I once enjoyed too and I am so damn angry.  I have lost friendships that once meant the world to me and I am so damn angry.  My anger is taking a toll on me like never before making me more and more irritable, frustrated and so damn angry!

I am only telling you all this because maybe if I can learn to express my anger outward instead of inward it will empower me to fight it off or try to battle it out.  Maybe if I can learn to stand up to the anger I feel it will allow the feelings and emotions to back down just like a cowardly bully may which is just driving me deeper and deeper into the abyss, formally known as Depression.  Hopefully it’s up for the challenge.

Another Birthday With Depression

Another Birthday With Depression

So I survived another birthday; well barely. I’m not gonna lie to you (why start now) but yesterday was harder than I imagined it was going to be. My birthday celebrations began a couple of days early as two of my kids were going to be at camp already on the actual day and they wanted to be a part of it somehow. They eagerly showered me with cards and presents and even insisted that my husband do so as well so they could see my reaction when he gave me my gift (all of which were filled with a lot of love and meaning behind them). After the gift giving portion of the evening was over we headed out to my favorite restaurant for dinner (which has become somewhat of a tradition) and I ate all my favorite foods, lots of it. The evening was really nice and a welcomed distraction leading up to the big day, a day that I once looked forward to celebrating.

Since my birthday fell on a weekend this year I think it only added to the stress and angst I was already feeling. I didn’t sleep much the night before (not that I ever do) and as the clock struck midnight the birthday wishes began lighting up my phone and Facebook page and continued to do so right through the entire next day. Don’t get me wrong, I am truly grateful knowing how many people actually took the time to think of me on my birthday (and there were LOTS), whether it was through Facebook, a text message or an actual phone call my emotions quickly became overtaken by my illness within the first hour past midnight.

I couldn’t look at my phone, answering it was definitely not an option and before noon I had cried at least three times. My husband wanted to take me for lunch which I had no desire to do as the thought of eating was making my stomach turn, but I agreed on the premise that we go somewhere ‘far away’ and so we went far enough away that my first birthday wish of the day came true; we didn’t see anyone we knew! After lunch we visited a healing sanctuary which was filled with so much spirituality, an area of my life I would like to focus more attention on so long as it is not God-Centered, but instead a place where I can somehow find an interconnectedness within myself which could lead me on a path toward health and wellness.

As soon as we walked into the store we both felt a sense of calm and peace and before we knew it we had spent an hour there browsing the 1000’s of items ranging from books, music, salt lamps, jewelry, crystals, aromatherapy, the list is endless; and they also offer many healing classes and courses as well. The owner was so welcoming and soothing from the moment we walked in and by the time we left she hugged me goodbye and gave me a gift for my birthday; an Energy Healing Bracelet, but she would only let me choose one that had absolutely no black whatsoever on it. I also purchased a couple of other small items including an aromatherapy birthday cupcake which is actually soap. I must keep it in my bathroom to gaze upon for the next 365 days, but not before making a wish upon it first. That was when my second wish for the day occurred.

When we returned home I was both emotionally and physically exhausted and had lost track of how many tears I had shed thus far, but I knew the day was not quite over and I still had dinner plans and my anxiety was already escalating again even though I knew we would be dining in an intimate and stress-free environment, with close friends by my side who I knew I could be myself with, laugh with and if needed, even shed a tear with.

During my birthday over the past four years I had never really given much thought to my “I Choose Me” Mantra or ensuring I create healthy boundaries before, but this birthday I did and in the end I believe it’s those healthy boundaries and my “I Choose Me” Mantra that helped me to survive another birthday, tears and all, and by the end of the day I was still holding on to that one final wish which I am planning to save up for another day when I figure out what it is.

“Are You Ready For The Summer?” Well I’m Not!

‘Are You Ready For The Summer?’  Well I’m Not!

It’s that time of year once again when your kids excitedly begin emptying out their knapsacks full of textbooks in exchange for their beach towels and sunscreen.  It’s that time of year once again when the April showers (and ice storms) have allowed for the May flowers to bloom and the June sky to brighten our days for hours on end.  And in our home it’s also that time of year once again when my kids hop aboard the Greyhound bus to their happy place while their father sheds his happy tears and joyfully hugs them goodbye amid his happy dance.

Tomorrow begins the official start to summer for two of my kids (unfortunately the third child has another few days of exams to get through first before her official start to summer).  But nonetheless, the dog days are here and so is another full summer of making some of the most incredible lasting memories for them.  I myself went to sleepaway camp for most of my childhood and young adult life and I can definitely tell you that is where I made some of my most incredible lasting memories (and friendships) too, but last summer my illness made it very difficult for me to remember those incredible lasting memories while they were away.

I know in my heart that my kids are safe at camp (and keeping their campers safe too!) while having the best time of their lives and making those incredible lasting memories but you see there is one major hurdle; my illness prefers to wander down the dark and sinister highways instead of taking me on a relaxing and gratifying joyride through the tranquil and serene country roads.  I should be looking forward to our ‘break’ from one another because to be completely honest, we really, really need it, this year more than ever before.

Every year since I began struggling with depression and anxiety we have been met with many additional and unthinkable challenges and adversities which are regrettably a normal part of life, but as each year passes for me I have become less and less able to cope with them, let alone the daily grind.   As I have mentioned previously in other blogs I never really experienced anxiety as a child (or adult for that matter), that is outside of what is considered to be a conventional range (as everyone suffers with anxiety from time to time) and even when I think back to a few years ago it was nowhere near where it is today.

I really can’t explain to you in a way that you would fully understand what having an anxiety disorder or panic attacks feel like because truthfully everyone’s experience is probably a little bit different.  All I can tell you is that for me over the last year my senses have become extremely heightened to the point where it is affecting my entire life, my husband’s life and most definitely my children’s lives almost daily and even though it may seem illogical, unreasonable or inexplicable to them or others, it is oh so real to me.

Just try to visualize for a moment that you are physically ill with the stomach flu and have been puking your guts up all night long, in a darkened room, all alone and someone tries to tell you that you’re imagining it, that it’s all in your head, that you take things too personally, that you’re overthinking it, that you’re affecting other people’s lives in the process or that you are simply being overly dramatic.  This is what my life with anxiety is like and yes it seems illogical, unreasonable and inexplicable to many, but for me it’s just plain exhausting, scary and very, very lonely at times when you are always afraid of your feelings or emotions.

The last thing I want is to let my anxiety and depression affect my husband and kid’s summers ahead, or have an instant replay of last summer where emergency personnel needed to intervene.  I really hope my husband gets to enjoy his well-deserved ‘break’, (but I also hope his Fitbit is fully charged for all the hiking trips I have planned!), a break from the 100’s of things he is burdened with as he continues to play the role of mom, dad and caregiver each and every day (and he is certainly not shy about letting you know how much he can’t wait for them to get on that damn bus already!).   I get it, I get his excitement, I get the kid’s excitement, I truly get it all from the bottom of my heart, I just wish my mind could get it so I can also enjoy a relaxing and gratifying joyride through the tranquil and serene country roads too.

My Birthday Present To Me; A Brand New License Plate

My Birthday Present To Me; A Brand New License Plate

This Saturday I will be 47. As a child I always looked forward to celebrating my birthday; the presents, the cake, the parties, really what more could a kid ask for?  Once I had my own children my focus shifted to them and wanting to see that they got the same in return; the presents, the cake, the parties, all of it and more. I always loved planning their birthday parties especially coming up with a fun new theme each year and sometimes I even went so far as to create my own unique loot bag for all of their friends as a keepsake; doing so from scratch.  Those days have long since faded away and although they still want the presents and the cake, their party themes have sorrowfully veered away from Elmo and Dora The Explorer to Coors Lite and Vodka.

I had never really concerned myself with the thought of what birthdays truly represent which is a basic acknowledgment that you are getting older.  I guess a big part of why I never fretted over my age much as I was growing up was perhaps because as the baby in my family I longed to be older so I could do more of the things my brother got to do first.  I also consider that another reason age was never such a big deal to me the older I got (when I turned 30 and 40 I didn’t even bat an eyelash) was due to the fact that I don’t look my age at all and never have (just ask the concerned bridal consultants when I was dress shopping for my wedding), or maybe it’s simply that I married a guy who’s almost nine years older than me!

Over the last few years however the significance of birthdays and getting older has impacted my mental wellness considerably.  Birthdays are supposed to be a happy occasion filled with celebration and hopefully a day for being pampered and spoiled by your loved ones, but instead nowadays as that day approaches for me I begin to feel more anxious and sadder.  Birthdays, although considered to be a happy occasion can also cause us to reflect, well at least they do for me.  Turning a whole year older now signifies another year that I am still battling with depression and anxiety, another year of reflecting on the ‘what if’s’, the regrets and the missed opportunities.  They are all neatly wrapped together in a tiny little box with a beautiful pink bow on top just like that birthday present you once longed for except this time as you tear away the layers of wrapping paper you are hoping it has a gift receipt attached to it because all you can see inside that box now are the ‘what ifs, the regrets and the missed opportunities.

This past weekend seemed to add further fuel to that growing fire.  Every year about six weeks before your birthday you receive a notification in the mail as a reminder that your license plate sticker needs to be renewed (well in Canada that’s how it works at least).  This year was a double whammy for me, actually it was more like a quadruple one because I not only needed to renew my license plate sticker which is quite simple and can be done so online, but I also needed to renew my actual license and health card too which for most individuals would not be such a big deal, just time consuming, but for me, well it’s a whole other story.

Needing to renew my license and health cards meant I had to go to the crowded license bureau itself and it also meant I would have to have my picture taken, yup just a few of the 100’s of things that would cause my anxiety to soar through the roof, driving outside my comfort zone nowadays, being alone in crowded rooms and last but definitely not least having my picture taken which I will have to look at for the next five years when all I want to do is erase any memories that represent this fractured part of my life.  To help avert part of the problem my husband agreed to take me and although he couldn’t resolve the issue of having my picture taken, he came to my rescue once again.

Over the past few months I have not been able to drive much due to my anxiety and panic attacks and will only do so within my comfort zone, but within that comfort zone I stand out like a sore thumb because for the last 30 plus years I have been driving around with a personalized license plate, and everyone who knows me or has ever known me, knows I’m coming from miles away. It was originally my mother’s plates which my family had given to her as a birthday present over 30 years ago but at some point in my late teens I became the sole owner and operator of her then baby blue Le Baron and the license plate too.  I was more than happy to keep the license plate as it was my dog’s name, and once my dog was no longer with us it meant even more, and believe it or not it still does today, however recently having a personalized license plate has been adding to my list of anxieties.  It may be difficult for someone to understand who doesn’t suffer from acute anxiety or a severe lack of self-esteem but when all I want to do is hide or drive through the neighbourhood with the least amount of resistance I needed to make that change.

It was by far a much more difficult decision for me than it seemed leading up to that moment as I stood speaking to the customer service representative at the license bureau asking her what I needed to do in order to change my plates.  After she finished telling me the simple steps it would take in doing so, she said, ‘so would you like to do this today?’  I hesitated and tears began to stream down my face (yup, that’s how life goes for me), and my husband who was waiting nearby saw my struggle and piped in and said, ‘yes, she would.’

You see it’s those simple and loving nudges I need in my life, the ones that help me look toward my future instead of sticking to my past.  I will never let go of that personalized license plate, rust and all, in fact my kids were actually a bit sad when we arrived home with my shiny new plates, so maybe when they buy their first car I will wrap up those plates for them with a beautiful pink bow on top, knowing that they will take as good care of them as I have, but this time there will be no need to attach a gift receipt inside.