Category: Relationships

If I Woke Up Tomorrow…

If I woke up tomorrow with no fear what would I do first?  Fear is a very unpleasant emotion which causes a person to believe that someone or something may cause them harm, pain or danger and could also be a threat to them.  A person can develop a fear through conditioning or a learned behaviour (like a fear of dogs) especially if they themselves have experienced a traumatic event in their lives or have a loved one who may have, and in turn instills that same fear upon them.

My biggest fears I had growing up were never learned or conditioned behaviours, in fact they were and still are quite the opposite.  I have always had an extreme fear of thunder and lightning, heights and my greatest fear of all is undoubtedly flying. None of these fears stemmed from a traumatic event in my life and none of them were passed down to me from my loved ones, but the best news of all is, I have yet to imprint any of these fears onto my own children.

So how did I go from having some very common and quite normal fears to where I am today?  They say that most of our fears surface during our childhood and adolescence and continue to grow into adulthood, most of which are quite manageable in our day to day lives.  My fears that I have been battling since childhood have never really impaired my day to day life because let’s face it, they aren’t fears that control a person daily. Over time I have learned to weather a storm, stay away from tall buildings (and water slides) and lucky for me, travelling by plane is hardly ever in my vocabulary!

But again I am left pondering how I got here.  How going from having a few simple childhood fears has escalated into chronic and severe ones that affects every aspect of my life, most of which is not even triggered by an event or happening.  It’s just there, leaving me in a constant state of fight or flight response. This feeling causes me to have a very difficult time falling asleep and staying asleep. It also causes me to have a great deal of irritability and sudden outbursts of anger.  I am also continuously finding myself unsettled, lacking concentration, easily startled (and that’s an understatement) and ready to react to my threatened state of mind. I live daily with subconscious pains, a heart that is beating so fast it feels like it may jump out of my chest and unrelenting flashbacks.  It is a very lonely and scary place to be.

My fears keep me feeling incapacitated, guilt-ridden and impulsive.  The impact of feeling a chronic fear affects how I feel physically; it leaves me confused, forgetful and unavailable mentally.  It may come without any warning and leave me with impaired judgement. It stops at nothing to try and beat me down. It leaves me very vulnerable.  It leaves me feeling embarrassed and it leaves me very tired.

I’m pretty sure a lot of my fears bare no logic to an outsider looking in, but they are very logical and extremely overwhelming to me. I am able to recognize that many of my fears cause me intense anxiety and panic, and that they are often not realistic causing me to avoid many people, places and things.  I feel pressure to relent to my fears and often feel so powerless as well, but I also know that sometimes fear can be used to keep me safe and protect me from danger. I understand what triggers many of my fears and I am learning to talk back to the negative thoughts and engage the fears with fight instead of flight response.

Facing my fears head on takes a lot of practice and patience for me and my loved ones.  It’s been a long battle especially when my list keeps getting longer rather than shorter, but I have definitely been doing a great deal of reflecting while writing this blog in response to the very first sentence I wrote; If I woke up tomorrow with no fear, what would I do first? The answer is simple, I would place both feet on the floor and get out of bed! What would you do?

‘Put Your Sticks Out’

One of the proudest titles I have owned in my soon to be 20 years as a mom is that of “Hockey Mom” or more specifically to me, “Goalie Mom”.  For more than half of my 20 years as a mom, hockey became a huge part of who I am. I still remember putting my little boy on the ice his first year in house league all dressed in his hockey gear, barely able to skate and boom…he accidentally collided with another player and broke his wrist.  Fast forward 2 years and that same little boy who had been waiting both eagerly and patiently for his turn to play goalie during a tournament gets his chance to shine, and shine he did. He did such an incredible job that from that day forward his dream of becoming a goalie was fulfilled. The following season he joined a new team with some friends, at a more competitive level and quickly they became our family for many years to follow.

He improved and worked hard to become the successful goalie he is today through perseverance, dedication, training, coaching and his love of the game. He is no longer playing at a competitive level but he is still on the ice, living his passion each and every week with his new hockey family and although I am no longer part of the daily hockey grind I am still a very humbled and proud “Goalie Mom”.

Throughout the years hockey defined our family dynamics, always operating our lives around where the next game or tournament was going to be.  Even though there is no more schlepping from one end of the city to the other, no more packing up the family for a weekend away tournament, no more car stinking like a pair of dirty old socks, no more cheering when the team scores the game winning goal, the sacrifices we made and the dedication we weathered was all for our boys and all for our hockey family.

This week our nation, along with many other parts of the world is mourning the loss of another hockey family.  A loss that is beyond incomprehensible.  A loss of 15 boys and men, many of whom were just beginning their lives. For the hockey family who have been left behind trying to come to terms with their new norm, today they are desperately wishing they could be schlepping their son, brother, boyfriend and grandson from one end of the city to the other, packing up their family for another weekend away tournament, stinking up their car like a pair of dirty old socks and cheering their team on when they score the game winning goal.  Instead today they are only able to hold onto these images as memories while clinging to that team jersey they wore to represent their hockey family loud and proud.

Over the next many days, weeks and years to follow, this hockey family and surrounding community will need each other more than ever.  They will need to lean on each other and embrace each other in whatever capacity they are capable of for they cannot do it alone. For many people it is often very difficult to ask for help, but I know first-hand how crucial it is in order to begin the healing process, I know now it is imperative.

My son was still playing competitive hockey when I was in the throes of my illness and as difficult as it was to attend hockey games, team parties and weekends away at tournaments (sometimes only during a weekend pass from a hospital stay), I got through it because I had the love and support of my hockey family behind me.  Being part of a hockey family means you triumph together and you fall down together. For many of us on the team who were together for so many years we had the honour of watching our little boys turn into fine young men, sharing in each other’s joys and sorrows, helping each other out at every turn. I always knew they would be there for me and my family if and when we needed them, and boy did we need them at times, even if it was simply to drive our son to a practice or feed him a well-balanced meal before a game we could always count on them and I am so grateful to call them family.

Asking for help does not come easy for me, but staying quiet can have very serious repercussions for anyone who is struggling.  As the Humboldt Broncos family begin to heal I hope that they will be able to utilize the many resources been made available to them in order to help them move forward somehow, I also hope that they will take some comfort in knowing that millions of Canadians and beyond are there for them, cheering them on in the stands, staying focused while we put that puck in the top corner… because that’s what you do for our family.

My One Brave Night

Last night I was fearless.  Last night I was courageous.  Last night I was brave.  Last night I was able to be all of these things because of the love and support of my family and friends by my side.  Last night I fulfilled my goal of stepping up and inspiring hope for millions of Canadians who are affected by a mental illness each year.  Last night with the help of friends and family I reached my target and I am so thankful for that.  Last night together we had #onebravenight.

I needed to keep the evening as intimate as possible in order for me to not get too overwhelmed. It began with some of our dearest friends joining us at our home for dinner.  They arrived with games and alcohol in hand and I knew then that the evening was certain to be a success.  After dinner was over and plenty of alcohol already was drunk (not by me as alcohol is more of a depressant for me than a stimulant) we decided to break open the new trivia game that we recently purchased just for the occasion.  We played in two teams, kids vs. adults.  It was trivia from the 2000’s so I figured the kids would bamboozle us but I was mistaken because at the end of the day we all basically sucked!  Maybe it was from the alcohol being consumed or the distraction from watching the Blue Jays game at the same time which inhibited our concentration, but either way it was still fun.

After we finished playing the game (or more that we all just gave up) it was time for dessert which had been baked by my kids and my husband the night before.  They prepared all our favorite Passover treats (yes they do exist) one last time for the year before the holiday wrapped up.  As dessert was being served we were blessed with some more dear friends to join into the mix.  After the kids finished their dessert they left the adults to continue watching the Blue Jays game (and continue drinking) and they went off to play another board game, one that was probably not so age appropriate for all that participated!  Our friends eventually left and we cleaned up, got into our pj’s, got comfortable on the couch (Maggie included) and spent a half an hour deciding on what movie we should watch.  It was close to 1 am by this point, but we were committed to trying to stay up as long as we could.  After the movie finished everyone retired to their own beds.

There is definitely a very gratifying feeling when you know that your efforts are been rewarded or benefiting others.  Donating to charity or participating in its endeavors can be very empowering which is why they say it is better to give than to receive.  It allows someone the power to strengthen their own personal values and belief system by helping make someone else’s life better.  For me, this event definitely sanctioned a teachable moment for my children as well by having them share this experience with me and giving them the opportunity to see that they have the ability to make positive change in the world, no matter how big or small their undertaking is.

My evening was not about winning any type of race, or making sure that I stayed up all night, but instead it was about finding both my mental and moral strength and challenging myself to be a voice to a cause that is very near to my heart.  Most days for me being brave is often just having the ability to get out of bed, or face another day of uncertainty.  It is also knowing that there is no guarantee that I will find any sort of relief as every day feels like I am fighting for my life.  That is indisputably the most exhausting act of bravery.

Having depression and anxiety is not a weakness by any means but unfortunately it is still looked upon this way by many misunderstood and misguided people who cannot see mental illness as a real illness.  Knowing the battle I endure daily by the stigma of mental illness is probably my greatest act of bravery as I have opened up my world to you all by sharing my struggles and at the same time lending my voice to those who are still trying to find theirs.  This courageous act of bravery definitely has made me very vulnerable and susceptible to judgment, eye rolling and backs turned but it has also inspired a great deal of hope in others.  I also know that having my family with me through my journey is also one of the bravest things that they can do too and I love them all so much for being by my side #onebravenight at a time.

ODE TO MY OLD SELF

I lied awake late at night and began to reflect upon,
The last four years of my life and where the days before have gone.

I know that I cannot change the past, or get this lost time back,
For the more I even think it, causes me an anxiety attack.

I miss the person I used to be, who smiled all the time,
And had the confidence to see that there was no mountain she could not climb.

The old me would have not lost hope or relented to her fears,
Her laughter would have been enough as she wiped away her tears.

I look at my reflection of a person I no longer know,
And wonder if it’s even possible to return to status quo.

The person that I once was, has forever gone away,
And she is becoming a distant memory since that dreadful day.

No one can predict their future or how fate will play it’s part,
So please show kindness to each other, it’s the perfect place to start.

Stop and Smell the Roses

*Warning Triggering Content*

Springtime is the time of year in which many of us look forward to.  It’s the time of year for new and exciting transformations.  It’s the time of year when the temperature begins to rise to a more humane degree, the days start to get longer, the birds begin to chirp, the grass gets greener, the trees come alive again and the flowers begin to bloom.  Spring is a time for rebirth.

Rebirth is defined as a time to flourish, rejuvenation, revitalization and a renewal that comes after a decline.  This week will mark four years since my illness began and I am still waiting for that rebirth.  I am still waiting to flourish, to become rejuvenated, revitalized and feel a sense of renewal.  With every passing day, every passing month and most certainly with every passing year I have heard my depression and anxiety tell me in a very unsavory and enticing way that I have no purpose in life, that I am a burden to those who love me and that they would be relieved if I were gone, and it also continues to tell me that I am a complete and absolute failure.

Failure is a necessary part of life. Everyone will fail at some point in their journey through life.  Without failure we may not learn some valuable life lessons.  Without failure we may not learn what success feels like, and without failure we may not find our inner strength.  For me failure has become an overwhelming daily emotion, one that I can’t seem to find my way out of.   Some days may feel worse than others, days where no matter what I may have accomplished I still feel like a disappointment or days where I can’t seem to handle the simplest task at hand, and especially the days where my mind takes me far away from reality.  These are the days that make me feel like giving up is the only option.

The human mind is a very powerful tool, sometimes it can be your best friend and at other times it is your worst enemy.  When suffering with depression and anxiety I can certainly tell you that it is without a doubt your worst enemy, a nightmare to be exact.  It evokes feelings of dissatisfaction, anger, regret and weakness which all seem to play a role in believing that you are a failure.  My mind continues to tell me many lies and exaggerations in my convictions as I am unable to find an ounce of self-compassion for myself while carrying this weighted-down, undesired emotion.

The definition of compassion is very straight-forward, it means to ‘suffer with’.  Self-Compassion entails showing kindness and comfort toward you in the same way you would ‘suffer with’ or do so for others.  Being Self-Compassionate means that you understand that you are by no means perfect or capable all of the time and that it is also okay if sometimes you may fail.  I am well aware that by increasing my Self-Compassion and becoming more gentle and mindful of myself will have monumental benefits for my recovery, slowly eliminating any harsh judgment and feelings of failure.

But four years ago this week I lost all sense of self-compassion, along with my ability to see the many new and exciting springtime transformations that have occurred each year since that day back in April 2014.  Even though I have continued to watch the temperatures rise, the days get longer, the grass get greener, the trees come alive and the flowers begin to bloom, I have only been able to see these transformations while standing in the rain, under the dark and dismal clouds.  Each of those raindrops relentlessly represent how my illness has made me believe that I have no purpose, that I am a burden to those who truly care about me and that I am a failure.

For now as I tirelessly stand in the springtime rain waiting to flourish, or become rejuvenated and revitalized, I will begin this coming year by learning how to stop and smell the roses more often.