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Language Matters, Words Matter

Language Matters, Words Matter

*Warning Sensitive Content*

“No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world” Robin Williams 1951-2014

Today marks four years since Robin Williams took his own life.  That week, or more precisely that particular day, August 11, 2014 my illness became very real to me.  It had been four months since I had begun struggling with Depression and at the exact moment when I heard the news of his death I was alone in my car, no one knowing my whereabouts, contemplating suicide.  It wasn’t the first time in that first four months that I had come close to acting upon my urges and it certainly hasn’t been the last; but it was the first time that I truly understood the seriousness of my illness.

Whenever there is a reported suicide of a famous person like Robin Williams something called the “Celebrity Suicide Effect” occurs and there is a noted rise in copycat suicides that happen following such tragedies.  That night as I sat alone in my car, scared and visibly shaken, I got caught up in the moment of it all as I began reading the headlines.  He was someone who I had admired since I was a young child, he was someone who made me laugh and he had just done the unthinkable, he had taken his life, which only left me wondering why not me too.

As I calmed myself down enough to eventually return home later that night, my attention diverted to what Robin Williams must have been thinking and feeling in the moments prior to his death and now in the aftermath, what his family and friends must be thinking and feeling too.  The headlines that night and the days and weeks that followed were oftentimes cruel, insensitive and full of judgment as the frequently, very avoided and much whispered about topic of suicide was in the forefront of everyone’s minds.

Since Robin Williams death four years ago there have been countless other celebrity suicides in the headlines, and I do mean countless.  And although there have been great strides forward in trying to end the stigma attached to Mental Illness and suicide since then, some things seem to never change.  The headlines continue to use inappropriate language when describing their death as something criminal when all you see in big bold letters next to their name is…”Committed Suicide”.

When individuals like myself who live with daily ideations of suicide or for someone who has lost a loved one to suicide it is essential to keep in mind that our language or more importantly our words matter.  The word “committed” when attached to the word suicide implies wrongdoing or sin and only makes it more difficult for those suffering with thoughts of suicide or for those who may have been left behind from a loved one’s suicide to want to just bury their heads in the sand with shame.  This of course accomplishes absolutely nothing and only keeps society as a whole from accepting that Mental Illness is a very real, often lonely and sometimes deadly disease.

An important step forward for society right now as a whole is to try and understand that our choice of words and language are imperative when talking about Mental illness and suicide.  A person who has unceasing suicidal ideations or dies by suicide have more than likely been overtaken by their illness and it has now consumed their ability to live.  But maybe, just maybe if we can learn to use less negative connotations surrounding Mental Illness and suicide starting with the use of more sensitive language and words, it will make room for more positive conversations, more individuals wanting to seek help and less people “taking their own lives” or “dying by suicide”.

Canadian National Suicide Hotline 1-833-456-4566

Admitting Defeat

ADMITTING DEFEAT

Before the summer began and the end seemed so far in the distance I tried to set some small, yet attainable goals for myself to focus on (some of which I have mentioned in previous blogs).  These goals to most individuals may seem like a normal part of their everyday routine, but for someone like myself who suffers with depression and anxiety on a daily basis they can seem as massive as trying to end world hunger (all by yourself!).  As the summer began to progress (quickly) I found that some of my small, yet attainable goals were being reached and even though one of my goals of going to the gym several times a week has turned out to be a one-time thing way back in week one, I was able to refocus this particular goal instead on trying to ensure that I go for a long walk most evenings with my hubby and pup; and lets not forget how many “steps” I’ve taken this summer during our #summerofrich excursions.

But even though it is so important for me to center my attention on any and all of my goals I achieve as equal, I am left feeling very deflated and empty once again.  You see, I had one BIG goal I have been working toward accomplishing for several months, a goal that I have only shared the most intimate details of with a handful of people, a goal that would give me a real sense of purpose and a goal that would give me a real sense of accomplishment.  As I said, it’s a BIG goal with many parts to it and not something that could be completed overnight so I had to break it down into several components to help try and make it more achievable and yes, much less overwhelming; which brings me to today.

With all my time and effort I have spent working toward accomplishing my BIG goal the process has now become tremendously overwhelming for me and has left me with even more sleepless nights, even more self-doubt, an even more sizable feeling of worthlessness, even more tears (who knew), even more anxiety (who knew that was even possible) and an overpowering sense of failure once again.  I feel like nothing I ever do is good enough, that every decision I make is the wrong one, that every step forward I take only sends me five steps backwards and that my negative self-talk just continues to lead me spiraling further down that dark and lonely hole toward a general sense of defeat.

I never said that this goal was going to be an easy one to attain (I set the simplest of goals everyday and sometimes just getting out of bed or taking a shower is an achievement in itself) so I knew from the onset that this was going to be quite difficult but I needed to undertake the challenge in order to try and save myself.   I also know that everyone may have feelings of defeat from time to time as it’s a normal part of the human experience no matter who you are or the path you may take in life.

Feeling defeated is really nothing new for me, in fact it has kind of just become part of the norm in my life.  It’s as though my illness is always taunting me and trying to ensure that no matter how hard I try to beat it I am more than likely just going to fail or that I am more than likely just going to feel defeated.  I have not given up on my BIG goal but this overpowering emotion has just left me wondering if there is an actual limit as to how long you carry on before you admit defeat?  How many times do you take one step forward only to be taken five steps backwards?  Are we just supposed to keep accepting our defeat in our endless attempts toward wellness as part of our journey and do our best to keep trying to move forward even if our efforts seem to be spiraling further down that dark and lonely hole?  Do we persevere no matter what we have to tackle along the way or how long it may take to get there (is there a time limit toward wellness)?  Does admitting defeat make us a coward or weak or is it true that it may actually make us brave and fearless?  What do you think?

Are You Living Life Or Merely Existing? “What I Know For Sure”

ARE YOU LIVING LIFE OR MERELY EXISTING? “WHAT I KNOW FOR SURE”

“The Proper function of man is to live, not to exist.” – Jack London (1876-1916)

I guess it is probably safe to say by now that for the last four years I have found myself existing but not actually living.  Living means that you are enjoying life, doing things that you like and that you are chasing your dreams and fulfilling your goals whereas a person who is merely existing means that you are simply breathing while doing the things that you have to do in order to get through each day and thus allowing your emotions like fear and anger to control you.

This has been a particularly tough week for me and my anxiety and depression have crippled me to the point of feeling non-existent.  A person who is living has the ability to understand their emotions and not allow them to impede on their choices or determination, to me living means you have purpose, and right now I feel as though I am only existing on the outside of life looking in.

By merely existing places many boundaries and restrictions on someone and believe it or not it takes a lot of effort to do so.  Existing like I do each day means being stuck in the past and always worrying about the future.  It means not having the capacity to feel what is happening around you in the moment or being able to reach your true potential, simply put, we feel powerless over our emotions.

While I am existing I am left waiting, left searching and left yearning to escape from the loss of control that these powerful emotions have taken from me, wishing that the next breath I grasp will be strong enough to renew my will to live.  To exist is to survive from the sidelines but to live is to do more than just survive or gaze upon, it means you are no longer left waiting, no longer left searching and no longer left yearning but instead you are actually leading the way to your own happiness and purpose; leading the way to feeling alive.

So after feeling so defeated by living, how does one learn to break the habit of merely existing?  The thing is if I had the answer then I wouldn’t be merely existing.  I recently read Oprah’s book titled “What I Know For Sure” which is filled with her inspirational life experiences with great insight and revelation.  Oprah is the Queen when it comes to learning how to overcome adversity and hardship and in my eyes she is also the Queen when it comes to living.

This book was super easy to read and so powerful and moving.  It was filled with page upon page of wisdom and honesty and chapter upon chapter of how to truly capture the art of living and appreciate its gift in return.  I am regularly reading books which will encourage me, inspire me and support me but this book is one that I am sure to return to time and time again in order to instill the value of living life over merely trying to exist in it.

Distress Centers, Demi Lovato & Doug Ford

DISTRESS CENTERS, DEMI LOVATO & DOUG FORD

Tonight Rich and I were planning to attend the Jason Mraz and Demi Lovato outdoor concert in Toronto.  Neither of us are necessarily big fans of their music but we were planning to go because it was a benefit concert to raise awareness and funds in support of Kids Help Phone.  Kids Help Phone is Canada’s only 24 hour, bilingual and confidential phone counselling, web counselling and referral service for both children and youth.  No one can argue that this outreach program (which was introduced almost 30 years ago) for our kids is needed now more than ever before and relies on donations both publicly and privately to keep it running.  Whether a child is suffering with mental health concerns, addiction or abuse, volunteer counsellors are there to listen and without judgment.

When the news broke the other day that Demi Lovato had been rushed to the hospital due to an apparent drug overdose it broke my heart.  As most of you probably know by now, Demi has battled with both mental and physical illness for much of her life.  She has been very vocal about her struggles and even though she had the best of the best resources at her fingertips, hitting rock bottom had to happen first in order for her to eventually reach out for help some six years ago.  Since then she ‘had’ gotten sober and partnered with the Founder & CEO of CAST Centers which “promotes well-being through a wide variety of proven methods, from traditional talk therapies to innovative and experimental treatments to more spiritual or mindful approaches”.

In 2015 she also became the spokeswoman for the “Be Vocal: Speak Up For Mental Health” campaign which has since encouraged and inspired people from all over the world to get help, even going so far as to offer her fans therapy and support for mental health concerns during each stop of her most recent concert tour (including Toronto).  Although I have never personally struggled with substance abuse myself (ok I’m lying, I have been addicted to tobacco for over 30 years, and when I actually write it down it makes me want to throw up), I know that addiction is a key element in someone’s mood, thinking and behaviour which will impair a person’s judgment and ability to function just as much as any other mental disorder.  And much like most other debilitating mental illnesses (depression, anxiety, eating disorders, psychosis etc.) they will most likely not go away on their own without proper treatment and if ignored will also likely get worse and very likely lead to a premature death.

This week our Health Minister announced that they will be cutting $330 million dollars of funding per year which was to be allocated to Mental Health services in Ontario only causing further turmoil and a monumental step in the wrong direction for everyone.  What this means for anyone battling with a mental illness or their loved ones (let’s face the scary truth, we all know of someone) is longer wait times to see a qualified Mental Health professional, less supports, less funded programs and less hospital beds and the real truth, even more children and adults in chaos.

For the average person living with a mental illness (myself included) who may not be privileged like Demi Lovato to be able to afford private long term treatment and instead rely heavily on government funding to enable them to get much needed and valuable support this too is heartbreaking.  I have seen firsthand the devastation from the lack of funding and cutbacks to doctors and programming (which I have blogged about in the past).  This is why it is more important than ever to remember when you are in need of immediate help that it may be just a phone call away, 24 hours per day, 365 days per year.

Helplines like Kids Help Phone or National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can and do save lives (and yes I have used their services).  They provide fast and immediate feedback to an already vulnerable, scared individual which may help to reduce their stress and fear in that pivotal moment.  I hope (along with the rest of the world) that Demi Lovato can make a full recovery and that she will continue to be that bright, shining voice for Mental Wellness and that when she is good and ready that Toronto will be her first stop on that road to recovery to finish what she started. (And you don’t want to know what I hope for Doug Ford)

*PLEASE PASS THESE NUMBERS ON TO YOUR CHILDREN AND LOVED ONES

Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868

National Suicide Prevention Service: 1-833-456-4566 (Canada)

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.