“Sometimes it’s the saddest people who smile the brightest all because they do not wish to see anyone else feel the pain they feel.” ~ Anonymous
It’s been a really long week for me even though, technically it’s actually been a short one due to this past Monday having been a holiday in Ontario.
I’m beyond overwhelmed and trying desperately to hold it all together most days right now and the constant demands I’m facing during my workday are only adding to my fate.
I found myself needing an escape from my office several times today in order to reset and try and collect myself again.
As it is, I have to force myself to take a lunch break most days because there just aren’t enough hours in the day. I feel like I’m constantly bailing water out from a sinking boat.
Taking mini-breaks throughout the workday or in any stressful situation for that matter I know is ok; even if I feel really guilty doing so and can sometimes feel an increase in my anxiety level.
But in not doing so when feeling the overwhelm or when learning to walk away when needed will only create further burnout and decrease one’s level of productivity in no time.
So today I took the necessary mini-breaks I needed. I had a good cry in the washroom, I did some breathing exercises, I reset my brain, put a smile back on my face and pulled myself together long enough to continue my day all because I chose to remove myself from my workspace for a few moments at a time.
I’m wearing this gentle reminder hoodie today to honour every child who has ever felt the devastating impact of being bullied. Let’s honour them by wearing pink today on “Pink Shirt Day” and send a message to the world that our words matter.
It’s been just over two months since I started my new job. For those of you who don’t know, I haven’t held a full-time job since Friday April 4th, 2014 at exactly 5pm when I ran (not walked) out of my employer’s place of business. I ran (not walked) to my car, shaken and crying. I had begun to fear for my safety weeks earlier when I started to quietly observe my boss and his partner partaking in some pretty illegal shit and on that particular day my fears turned into a nightmare, only problem was, I was wide awake during it.
When I got to my car at 5pm I texted Rich, telling him that I wanted to kill myself before shutting off my phone. I had never experienced these types of thoughts before in my 40 something years. It was in that very moment my mental health journey first began.
I didn’t go home that evening. How could I? I felt like I’d failed everyone. I felt purposeless. I felt like my loved ones would be better off without me and sadly, almost 9 years later I’m still feeling those exact same emotions and more.
When I started back to working full-time again a couple of months ago after such a long hiatus, whether I was ready to or not (news flash, I was not), I hoped that it would create a positive shift in my life but instead it’s done the opposite for me and has only created further overwhelm and stress on my mental and physical health as well as my personal life because my job itself is extremely overwhelming and stressful; something I never imagined it to be.
I didn’t disclose too much to my employer as to the extent of my illness upon hiring me but at the same time I also never led her to believe that I was no longer struggling with my mental health either. All she really had to do was google me to find out all she needed to know about me if she really wanted to, which from what I can gather she never did!
My resume though speaks volumes as to the journey my life has been on for many years now. It’s filled with my passion for mental health advocacy which I happily expanded upon during the interview process, including my many achievements in the more recent years having published a children’s book and my labour of love about a mother’s journey with Depression, having started a Blog which chronicles my own personal journey living with a mental illness and having created several initiatives to raise awareness and support for youth mental health.
A survey done just before the Pandemic showed that 75 percent of people in work places suffering with a mental illness do not share it with their employer or utilize many of the benefits offered from a place of employment for fear that they will look weak or for fear they will lose their job.
Yet another tragic stat.
I am not ashamed to share my most intimate thoughts and feelings with the world when it comes to my mental health battle which I guess is quite evident by now but I’ve also never faced being an employee with an illness that is still so stigmatized until now either and I’m struggling with just how much I share with my employer (I have spoken to her briefly about my neurological health condition as she noticed my physical issues almost immediately after I started working and had asked several times if I was okay).
Since starting work mid December my mental health has been on a steady decline as many who follow me regularly have seen through my blogging but I have perfected over time the art of smiling through my Depression in certain scenarios; work now being one of them. So when I showed up late to work one Monday afternoon a few weeks ago after sending my employer an email earlier that morning letting her know I had an appointment I’d forgotten I had scheduled late last year, I was lying. The truth was I was actually in the emergency room on a Psychiatric Form after being taken to the hospital in handcuffs the evening before by police officers which Rich had called while I was in a near psychotic mental health crisis.
There was no way in hell she could ever find that out. All I kept thinking as I begged the nurses and doctors to let me go home was if she knew what had happened I’d be fired immediately, or if the Psychiatrist had not allowed me to go home that day what was I going to tell her?
I am doing the best I know how to right now at work (and in life in general). I’m showing up every day and working my ass off through the constant stress and overwhelm of my position, in fact I’m actually doing a pretty damn good job, something I’ve been recognized and acknowledged for time and again thus far. If only I could believe it though.
I know I don’t owe my boss anything more than she may or may not already know about my personal life if it’s not affecting my ability to perform my job duties as my mental health journey should not define me as an employee, or in any other aspect of my life for that matter. I know in my heart that I am so much more than my illness, but to be honest, I feel like such a fraud right now. I believe that no one should ever suffer in silence and that sharing your vulnerabilities with others is the most important thing we can do in order to feel less overwhelmed and alone but that stigma still follows us everywhere we go (I am grateful though to work with an amazing group of co-workers who I am able to share my vulnerabilities with as do they with me).
It’s been a really confusing time for me due to my mental health decline lately and the imposter syndrome I am facing at work is only adding to that decline. The feeling that I am not good enough for this job or that my boss will soon realize she hired the wrong candidate hangs over me during my work days but the other day as my boss wrapped up a meeting and her and I were alone in the room she said to me, “Can I ask you something quite personal?” Well you can only imagine where my anxiety took me to in that very moment. I had no idea where this conversation was about to go. She then took a deep breath and began to open up to me with tears in her eyes about her loved one who has been under psychiatric care at the local hospital in her area for about a month now, battling postpartum depression. She so desperately needed some advice from someone who could empathize with her on how she and other family members could better understand what her loved one is going through and how once she is released from the hospital they can better support her.
She may not know the depth of my suffering but in that very moment it didn’t matter to her. She trusted me enough to share something so raw and personal. She made me realize my value and purpose and made it ok for me to know that if I ever need to come to her at any point in time when I’m feeling overwhelmed or vulnerable that I don’t need to hide behind my mask; it felt like a big relief for me going forward.
I am planning on gifting her loved one a signed copy of my book this week to share with her family when she is back home (she also has another child as well) and to remind her that she too is enough (btw, my boss read my book a few weeks ago).
P.S. I pray that one day we can get to a place where every place of employment will begin to offer proper training on mental health to both their employees and employers along with regular wellness checks and team building seminars.
I was overwhelmed with so much emotion as I entered the corridor. I took note right away of where the closest restrooms were just in case I needed to make a quick exit.
There were familiar faces at every turn from people I’ve known for almost 40 years of my life; most of whom I hadn’t seen in probably a decade or more.
My fear of rejection I’d projected in my own mind as I made my way through the corridor to the coat check area, quickly slipped away with each genuine and warm embrace I received along the way.
I shed both tears of sadness and tears of joy last night.
Throughout the evening I caught up with old friends as we shared in meaningful conversations. I shared in the laughter with each new connection I made and with those same familiar faces who had greeted me in the corridor earlier that evening with genuine and warm embraces.
I was present in each moment.
Depression can challenge many of your relationships; trust me I know that feeling all too well. I only wish though that more people could understand that:
“Depression doesn’t diminish a person’s desire to connect with other people, just their ability.” ~Bill Bernat
But when you are lucky enough to find the right people in your life; the people that is who aren’t afraid to sit with you in silence or cry with you during the difficult moments or who let you know by either their words or actions just how much it means to them every time you do show up; those are the relationships worth fighting for and the ones I will always show up for.
Once upon a time when I felt confident in my own skin I loved dressing up. I loved a good party with music and dancing too. My illness destroyed all that for me long ago. But as I put on the finishing touches before heading out the door to celebrate with one of my oldest and dearest friends and her beautiful family at the Bat Mitzvah of their daughter tonight, a night I’ve had in my calendar for over a year now, I am not going to allow the distorted reflection I see staring back at me in the mirror hold my mind hostage this evening or try and ruin my night by spreading vicious lies or untruths.
I am also taking some backup ammunition with me as well tonight to help try and avoid a wicked flare-up from happening to my body this evening which is most likely to occur from all the loud and amplified noises in the room and vibrations from the music (just one of the many fun neurological issues I now live with daily since my treatment last April).
*Trigger Warning ⚠️, sensitive topic: please do not read if you feel it could be triggering; talk of suicide, medical assistance in dying (M.A.I.D), treatment resistant depression.
Depression is living without hope. It’s living with a lack of interest in the things that once brought you joy. It’s living with the difficulty to focus on stuff. It’s living with a cloud of darkness hovering overhead. It’s living with constant fatigue whether you sleep for days on end or a few hours a week. It’s living with the feeling that you want to die.
Depression is not one size fits all, it is so many different things to so many different people but the one thing I can tell you for sure is, it can be a very lonely place to live.
When I was first diagnosed with Depression back in April of 2014 my doctor prescribed me my first antidepressant; a week or two later she got me in to see a Psychiatrist who then added another medication into the mix.
They didn’t work, and boy was I ever naive as to what was still yet to come.
I have since spent the better part of 9 years trying over 20 different concoctions of antidepressants, all of which caused further damage to my body and mind (and I finally needed to come off them all together), alongside one failed treatment after another. ECT, Ketamine, acupuncture, natural remedies, CBT, support groups, inpatient programs, Neurofeedback and Psilocybin have been among them; but to be honest, I’ve lost count as to how many others there have been.
It wasn’t too long into my journey, I think a couple of years at most, when I was further diagnosed as having what’s commonly known as “treatment resistant depression”.
A third of all people diagnosed with Depression do not respond to treatment which can in turn raise the risk of suicide among those living with persistent depression.
I’ve been to that very dark and scary side too many times to count throughout my journey, but none more than I have over the last year; a year that I recently described as being, by far; the hardest, cruelest, toughest year of my life emotionally, physically and personally.
All I’ve ever truly wanted over the last 9 years is to be able to live life again. I’ve kept fighting time and again through every failed attempt at medications and treatments for something, anything at all, to finally spark some glimmer of hope but with each passing day I feel like that goal is near impossible, especially since the sudden onset of all my neurological issues that occured last April after participating in the Psilocybin clinical study; only adding more fuel to the fire and creating so many additional roadblocks for me.
He was conflicted but obliging to my wishes and asked for some time while he did some more research on it for me which included reaching out to a colleague of his to share my story with him and gain further incite.
He told me yesterday that the network which his hospital works under no longer offers M.A.I.D to their patients and that it has all been moved to a Provincial/Central Intake Department now which I would need to connect with directly to find out what and when or if I’d be eligible under its new legislation. He forwarded me the necessary information and contact details via email right after my appointment, assuring me that he would help me fill out any required forms I may need signed by him to complete the process when the time comes. He also let me know that my case most likely falls under a very gray area right now.
I’ve survived so much over the past 9 years that has meant to destroy me, much of which I feel already has. I plan to make that initial phone call next week. It doesn’t mean I will pursue it any further than that right now but for my own mental health and peace of mind I need to at least collect all the necessary data, data that may or may not help keep me going while I continue searching for that glimmer of hope.
A wise friend told me recently that she sees me as that last stubborn bowling pin that refuses to fall down, let’s just hope she’s right.
I received a follow up phone call this afternoon from the complaint I made a few weeks ago to my local police department in reference to the incident that took place in my home on the evening of January 15th (in case you missed it, click here: https://wheredidmommyssmilego.com/2023/01/21/i-need-to-be-that-voice/).
The officer had originally reached out to me about a week ago via email letting me know that he had been assigned to my OIPRD Public Complaint for investigation and wanted to take the opportunity to discuss the concerns addressed in my complaint, as well as the OIPRD mandated modes of resolution.
We arranged a time for him to call me today over my lunch hour. He told me he is a retired police officer who is now an Investigator with the Internal Civilian Investigations board.
Although he had read through my letter in preparation for our call he wanted to hear from me personally what had happened that night and what he can do to help.
We spoke for close to an hour. He listened intently and asked me to share my journey with him over the last 9 years and what ultimately led to the event in my home last month. He said that although he can’t ever begin to know how I feel he said he can definitely understand how difficult my fight for survival has been, especially over the past year. He was genuinely concerned for my safety and wellbeing in the moment.
He then apologized for what I’d gone through with the police officers last month even though he knew I was not blaming the actual officers themselves who I’d reiterated were kindhearted and just following the department’s policies and procedures. He then admitted to me that although he has seen many important changes take place during his long career with the police force in how they conduct themselves when dealing with people in mental health crisis, he knows that it’s still nowhere near where it needs to be. He also admitted that unfortunately the YRP department, (York Regional Police, who I dealt with) are one of several departments who still have very limiting resources.
Before our call ended he spoke briefly about the mental health support team who works with their police department and asked if it would be okay if he reached out to them “immediately following our call” to get their incite on my story. He continued by saying that he strongly believes that my story needs attention and knows how important it is for officers to look at how they can do better by listening to people and advocates like myself sharing their experiences and giving their personal input in order for these necessary changes to be made.
He said he would follow up with another phone call soon…As I hung up the phone I felt my voice being heard.
He loves me when I’m at my best and continues to hold my hand through my worst.
Love means having unconditional support built on a mutual respect.
Love is weathering the storms in life together and always being reminded of your self-worth.
Love doesn’t have to always equate to romance.
Love is about cherishing all the people in your circle.
It’s about caring deeply for someone and wanting to see them happy and ensuring that you are a part of it.
Love isn’t shown by a date on the calendar. It’s made up of all the little moments we encounter with our loved ones each and every day throughout the year.
Speaking from the heart is something I thrive on; somedays my life feels like it truly depends on it.
Speaking from the heart means being able to say what you want to say, the way that you, and only you can say it.
Speaking from the heart allows you to be heard, and be seen; it can also have a very positive impact on others as well.
Speaking from the heart can sometimes come with regrets or even consequences but doing so before it’s too late may be imperative.
Speaking from the heart means being genuine, real and truthful; it should never include empty promises.
Speaking from the heart means exposing your vulnerabilities, your flaws and your most intimate feelings; it takes a great deal of courage to do so.
Speaking from the heart will bring about a connection with others when you are able to share your thoughts openly and honestly.
Speaking from the heart means knowing your self-worth and allowing yourself to take off your “mask” in order to do so; this will come with many rewards too.
I needed to have a very difficult conversation recently with several of the people I love. My life truly depends on it right now. I came prepared and I practiced lots beforehand. I wanted to ensure I felt heard, and seen as well.
It was filled with such raw emotions. It was genuine, real and truthful. I exposed my many vulnerabilities, my flaws and my most intimate feelings. I was honest and they were too.
I hope in the end that it had a positive impact on everyone involved because it took a lot of courage for me to be able to have this conversation in the first place.
It felt so incredibly empowering allowing myself to speak purely from my heart.
“If you want your voice to be heard, speak from your heart.” ~Wes Fesler
Even if you may not believe it; even if you no longer know truth from reality anymore.
Even if, from where you are standing you can’t see how much you matter to someone.
Even if it’s so hard to feel it through all your pain and perceived failures.
Even if you hate the sound of your own voice; that same voice that brings music to someone else’s ears.
Even if you can only taste the bitterness in your life right now.
Even if you can’t smell the beauty that surrounds you.
Remember that your gifts, your smile, your warm embrace, your love, your inner beauty, your dreams, your talents, your passions, your purpose; they have all touched someone in this world.
I made this hoodie to wear as a note to self and as a gentle reminder for anyone else who is reading it to know that the world is better with “YOU” in it too.
Contact me today to order your own @agentlereminderproject hoodie, crew neck or t-shirt and help spread the word.
YouAreEnough 
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