tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62076960298979374582024-03-13T07:41:50.716-07:00Positive AngstAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-26179182907986690282016-12-03T13:45:00.001-08:002016-12-03T13:46:26.299-08:00If I Could Schedule Happy, I Would<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If I could schedule happiness I would.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If getting happy was as easy as scheduling my hair appointment
or getting my teeth cleaned, I’d be the happiest person on earth.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Actually, it’s not that I’m NOT happy. I am. I’m perhaps the
happiest I’ve ever been in my life. It’s this damn bipolar that’s throwing a
damper on my happy-fest.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This week has been difficult for me. I’ve been disappointed
each morning that I open my eyes. That is to say, I am disappointed that I wake
up anxious and depressed. I read in a blog somewhere that waking up to a panic
attack is like waking up to a punch in the stomach. I can’t describe it better,
so I won’t.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am disappointed and frustrated that this episode of
illness in my life is cutting into my happiness. It is draining me of fun and
joy and that hurts. There is a difference in the me that you may see out and
about and the me going on inside my head and heart. There is nothing sadder to
me than acting out joyful moments instead of feeling them.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">That makes me angry. I am not comfortable with anger and
bitterness. Neither one is a default emotion for me. I truly am happy-go-lucky.
I preach compassion and forgiveness. In fact, I may even let go of anger a little too
soon sometimes because I don’t like how it feels. I’m not afraid to feel it, I
just don’t like it hanging around for too long.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">So, this week has been tough. My disappointment, anger, and
frustration at myself, at the world and at medical science has made me very
“grinchy” right now and that, my friends, is unacceptable in the long term for
me.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Trust me, if I could simply “schedule a day of happiness”,
I’m fairly sure I would have had this depression thing cleared up years ago.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-73834489718000449652016-11-22T11:42:00.003-08:002016-11-22T11:43:01.432-08:00Sick Enough<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It has been a long time since I have posted on my blog. I
need to change that.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Sometime sharing is difficult. And sometimes, I may share
for the wrong reasons.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">What do I mean by that?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The wrong reason is when I want desperately – too
desperately – to be believed. But, I realize it’s NOT my job to convince anyone
that I am sick. It’s not my job to justify or prove that my bipolar, especially
at this very moment in time, is unbearable. It’s not my job to prove that the
only reason I can get up in the morning is thanks to a cocktail of medication
that allows me these seemingly false, but necessary nonetheless moments of strength.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">When able, I MUST participate in life. Participating in life
is part of my treatment. I celebrate that. I need that. I get tired sometimes
of having to – or feeling like I must – look or sound a certain way to earn the
“green light” of being believed or being sick enough. I am tired of thinking I must
give off visual cues so that people feel comfortable with believing I am sick
enough.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">By who’s standards, I wonder?</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The moments I can laugh with my family or joke with my
friends I hold on to because the next moment may find me plunging into
darkness. Such is the unpredictability of a bipolar depressive episode. If you
see me smiling or hear me chattering away, recognize that I am simply managing
my symptoms in a less grueling way in that moment. Be happy for me if you can.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am sick now. Right now, I am not able to “power through”
or “fight off” this episode. A healthy diet and a good dose of exercise will
not make me well. They may help, but they won’t fix it. Lighting scented
candles and meditating are also helpful, but not the answer. Sadly, the
chemicals inside my brain that govern my illness are in charge and I can manage
in whatever way I need to.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">No one chooses mental illness. It is not the “new black” or “on
trend”. But neither is it something to apologize for. There is no shame in this
illness. My bipolar disorder won’t look like anyone else’s. It presents
differently in everyone. For me, sadness is only a tiny sliver. It is so much
more and sometimes it stops me in my tracks. Times like right now.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is in these times that I must draw on my own words when I
am advocating for mental illness. It is not just for me. It is also for anyone
else who feels that they don’t have a voice.</span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px 0px 11px;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There is no shame. Stigma has no power here.</span></div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-26534354870782753262016-02-06T05:19:00.000-08:002016-11-22T11:41:32.226-08:00Week Two - New Meds<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Week Two – new meds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">What a ride. And not in a fun “Yay let’s go for a ride!”
ride. More like, “wow, this ride is nowhere NEAR as fun as I thought it was
gonna be” ride Or “Maybe you better bring me a bucket” kind of ride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I mentioned in my last post that I have received my new,
proper diagnosis of bipolar type 2 and I sincerely thought that I would be at
the point of acceptance by now. Right? I mean, it’s been two weeks for crying
out loud. I should just acknowledge, accept and manage. Trouble is, my body has
been less than cooperative with this new normal and has been quite clear it’s
not on board yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s hard to describe how I’m feeling, so let’s just say I
feel one part hungover, one part weighted under a hot, wet blanket, one part
confused, another part fatigued beyond belief and finally yet another part
thrilled to pieces that I am potentially going to get this right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s difficult work getting well, but I am on it. I just
feel like my brain is a little further ahead than the rest of my bod and it’s
getting annoying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The goal of course, is to align both so that I can live with
my diagnosis in some form of perfect harmony. Bipolar for me is like that 80s
sitcom neighbour who always barges in through the kitchen door and raids the
fridge then offers up unsolicited advice. They drive you nuts, but you love
them anyway and can’t imagine life without their presence in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Yeah. That’s what it’s like.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Next time they barge in, they better bring a bucket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-80863306870207790222016-01-28T13:25:00.000-08:002016-01-28T13:25:28.853-08:00I wasn't ready to talk. Today I am.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I didn’t feel much like talking earlier this week. There were a few things I had to sit with first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’ve spent a large chunk of my life living with a diagnosis
that didn’t quite fit the bill. I’ve suspected for quite some time, as have
others close to me, but I was satisfied living with what I thought I knew
and managing the best way that I knew how.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Still, something wasn’t quite right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">If you have any kind of mental illness diagnosis, you know what
I mean when you get tired of going to doctors and tired of trying new
medications and sketchy side effects. All true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I’ve been of the thinking that if it works well enough that
will do. It hasn’t been working well enough for a long time now and after
careful reflection and consideration, I went back for a full on psychiatric
assessment on Tuesday and the verdict came in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">You know when you hear something you are expecting, but you’re
surprised to hear it anyway? Yeah. That’s pretty much how I felt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am bipolar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">There, I said it. It’s ok. It’s good to know. I am still
ruminating on what it means and how things may change for me or for my family.
I brought up this concern with a kind friend who gave me some good advice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">He told me that while the diagnosis is new, I’m not. I’m
still the me I’ve been and can only get better. In fact, he told me that I’ve
always been who I am and the doctors are just catching up with me now!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Huh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">True or not, I liked the way it sounded and it took some of
this confusing weight from my shoulders. Now I am managing new medication and
enjoying (not) the pleasant (gross) side effects that come with changing up
what you have been doing medicinally for years, but I’ve got this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">Let’s Talk is a wonderful initiative, how about keeping the
conversation going?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-26216559368909880432015-11-06T06:52:00.001-08:002015-11-06T06:52:52.056-08:00It's November, people!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">This warm
weather in November is nice for some, but it plays havoc with those of us who
tend to obsess over things we have absolutely no control over.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">You think –
Yahooo! Patio season is back! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I think –
We’re all going to die<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">You think –
I’m breaking out my flip flops again<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I think –
We’re all going to die<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It’s
NOVEMBER people! It’s Canada! We are not supposed to be this comfortable! We
are supposed to be at the beginning stages of seasonal affective disorder and
wishing for next spring. We are NOT supposed to still be wearing open toed
shoes! The timing is all off.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Climate
change. Global warming. End of days.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">These are
the thoughts that are racing through my mind while my kids are out enjoying t-shirt
weather and skateboarding. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">It is going
to be 19 degrees today and I am wearing a voluminous cardigan. I am also
sweating buckets, but I DON’T CARE! Not only is it appropriate that I stick
with what the calendar says, it is necessary so I don’t fly into the abyss of
uncertainty that the world is turning upside down.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am going
to stick to my schedule if it kills me (and it might) and will be shortly
breaking out my toques, scarves and gloves. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Of course,
this same rule will not apply if it is 20 below zero in July. Which it COULD
be! I will bend my principles then, but I won’t be happy about it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-81593239427553430432015-10-31T08:52:00.000-07:002015-10-31T08:52:30.766-07:00Taking the Fear Out of Death and Dying for the Overly Anxious
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I read something on Facebook this morning that really spoke
to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><em>“Write into your will that you want to be cremated. Before
you die, swallow as many popcorn kernels as you can.”<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Well, I laughed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As someone with a severe anxiety order, I spend an unhealthy
amount of time fixated on my fear of death and dying. I am always looking for
ways to manage this fear since there is really nothing I can do about it,
right? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was inspired then, to make up a list to help myself (and
maybe others who share this fixation) take the fear and add some fun into the
prospect of death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Start sleeping in a coffin when you turn 65
(earlier if you’re a smoker)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Begin listening to Leonard Cohen – as I’m pretty
sure that’s what they play in hell<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take comfort in the fact that people will
continue to insist on wishing you a happy birthday long after you die, so in
fact, you never really die at all (I have gone on the record before as
vehemently opposed to this practice as it really makes no sense)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Go into Sephora and ask for a practice casket
makeover (you know, like a bridal trial)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a transitioning dead person, contact Revenue
Canada and inform them that you no longer will be filing your tax return<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">6.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finally, what to be buried in? It’s so hard to
choose just the right outfit for special occasions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Consider changing styles of the future – in fact,
why not buck trends and design your own burial outfit and really make a
statement?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The above list is by no means complete, so I encourage you
to come up with your own ideas. Today and especially tonight, being Halloween,
is the perfect mood setter don’t you think?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Happy Halloween, y’all!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-90733134525816383002015-10-13T05:55:00.002-07:002015-10-13T05:55:20.777-07:00Damaged Vans and Corn Mazes
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am always
learning things from my kid. As much as I like to think that I am smarter, more
evolved and far more in control of my emotions than he is, I realize that we
are so much alike sometimes it’s downright terrifying.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take this
Thanksgiving weekend for example. The kid drives me nuts. He always has, but on
this particular instance, I realized that what he was doing was EXACTLY the
kind of thing I have done (still do) to my nearest in dearest. In particular,
when someone suggests a solution to an identified problem, instead of just
accepting that’s the answer and settle down again, I (we) tend to ask for
clarification over and over and over and….you see?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Someone
smacked into the back of our brand new van while my husband was inside Loblaw’s
shopping on Saturday. He came home and showed me the damage (it’s a healthy
ding, but nothing too major). I tried to stay blasé about the whole thing. He
even told me that he was putting a call into our insurance broker on Tuesday
(today – I better check on this!) to see what our best option is. Fine answer.
Logical answer. Still, I don’t think I’ve asked about the plan any less than a
dozen or two times since then.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Honestly,
just knowing the van is sitting in the driveway, damaged and we aren’t doing anything
about it RIGHT AWAY, left me in a general state of unease the rest of the
weekend. I even know it’s happening, but it doesn’t change anything. Annoying
right? Yeah, for me and everyone around me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now my kid,
who has an obsession about well, everything comes into the picture. Not only
does he notice the van, he chimes in with the questions as to what, how and
when will the damage be fixed. He is relentless. I’m not sure how he is still
alive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I took him
to a corn maze yesterday to distract him. Think about that for a second. I took
an overly anxious, OCD and panic stricken 13 year old into a corn maze as a way
to distract and relax him. This is the part where I question whether or not I should
be a parent.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Still, he
wanted to go and go we did. Thank God his stepbrother was there to keep a close
reign on the two of us and prevented us from spiralling out of control (FYI he’s
12). My stepson was enjoying the adventure, while my son and I were fake
laughing (ha ha this is really fun, right? Fun? Isn’t it?) half expecting a
homicidal maniac to leap from behind the stalks and end our pitiful lives. Because
that is 100% possible at a family fun farm in Courtice overflowing with people
on a Thanksgiving Monday. Where’s your imagination people?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">After I
took the chicken exit (don’t judge me), the boys persevered. I know in his
heart of hearts, my kid wanted to leap on my back and follow me out, but he
didn’t. He took a hold of his anxiety and continued through the maze determined
to finish with his brother. I know his little heart was likely jackhammering
away in his chest, but he did it. He did it! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">While I
freed myself from the terror of the maze and sat on the grass, they were
enjoying themselves the way kids should. I may have thought about my van a few
hundred more times while they played, but I have not mentioned it to my husband
since. That’s a good twelve hours and counting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I might
shoot him a text now though.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">HAPPY
THANKSGIVING ALL! TONS TO BE GRATEFUL FOR!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-54341475884343761182015-09-24T05:29:00.000-07:002015-09-24T07:05:55.491-07:00Oh don't you worry, I have provocative thoughts...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have a lot of provocative ideas and I’d like to express
them, trouble is, my anxiety holds me back and well, I chicken out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maybe that’s just an excuse. Maybe I just don’t want to spew
out my thoughts on social media and open myself up to criticism and debate. I’m
kind of a coward that way, I guess. I’m often impressed by (though just as many
times, embarrassed for) those that are able to keenly articulate their point of
view on an issue and weather the storm that often comes along with that kind of
openness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I admit, I read a lot of those exchanges, but often find
myself too tired or ultimately disinterested to continue. I guess in part because
there are so many things in my life of managing anxiety, panic and depression
that I don’t actively seek out ways to get myself more worked up than I need to
be at any given time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of course I still educate myself on current issues and form
opinions when needed or I’m inspired to, but then I stop short of posting those
views publicly. Even if I wanted to post my views, I fear I would lose steam or
energy in trying to valiantly defend my thoughts to those who may disagree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t like churning things up and I don’t like forced
conflict (though I will advocate for the things I am passionate about) and
sometimes I just want to keep my social interactions, pleasant and amiable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sound wimpy? Probably. However, through the years of dealing
inside the tangled wires of my brain, I have found that I don’t need to
participate in exchanges where I can add no perceivable value to the
conversation. I have nothing to prove (at least not right now) and instead,
choose to keep my opinions to myself and enjoy the spectacle that sometimes
unfolds in front of me on my screen. When it’s not working for me anymore, I
tune out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Tune out that is, after I’ve done my share of reposting
vague motivational sayings or Weiner dog videos. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-60030641205991585592015-07-17T06:32:00.003-07:002015-07-17T06:32:56.943-07:00Not always about me..wait..what?
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When you
are anxious on behalf of another person, you rev up your emotions to a whole
new level.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When bad
stuff is happening to someone you love, it’s natural to feel some of the pain
with well-place empathy and support. When you are a person with an off the
charts anxiety disorder, this becomes a little more interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My anxiety
order pushes me to act. This is not always (rarely ever is) a good thing. The
anxiety, when at its highest, pushes me to take on the other person’s situation
and “fix” it. Of course that’s ridiculous and I would counsel anyone who asks
to NOT DO THAT. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However, my
anxious spirit is not rational and therefore, I find myself a bundle of nerves
with nowhere to go.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am
incensed. I am helpless. I am furious and I am profoundly sad when this
happens. Sometimes, my anxiety masks itself as a super strong woman who is
always proactive and makes the right decision. Let nothing stand in her way!
She’s got this. All will come together to a peaceful resolution.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What’s
really happening is that my brain is firing all over the place with half-baked
plans and false heroism. Truth is, I can’t immerse myself in other people’s
trauma as much as I am naturally inclined to do so. That’s some serious hard
shit to swallow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My emotions
and my righteous indignation lead the way and my logical self is usually back
at the spa enjoying a facial. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Dammit,
this is hard. I have no sage words of wisdom for you if you ever find yourself
in this position. In fact, I think I know what the wise thing to do would be, but
it’s not in me at the moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I want to
rail against the god’s on my partner’s behalf. I want to take all the shit that
is happening and deflect it all. I don’t have the answers, but I have enough
fight in me to take it on. Trouble is, I can’t. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is not
my fight as much as I want it to be. I can be there, with my anxiety and all,
and support his way through the pain and injustice. I can soothe where I can,
advise where possible and be a soft place to land. I just have to dial back my
own emotions and not make this about me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not making
stuff about me is a very hard thing to do when your whole life is affected by
your own anxiety and panic. I live in a bubble a lot of the time and I’m a
magnet for other people’s emotions. Time to put my big girl panties on and
channel that anxiety into a calmer, gentler me so I can be of some use.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I just have
to find my own anti-anxiety switch and power the heck down first.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Oh and
finally, just let me say, I hate mean, ignorant and vicious people whose sole
purpose in life is to cause pain for other human beings. They suck.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-67326762293238249472015-06-10T06:19:00.000-07:002015-06-10T06:21:25.683-07:00Game Changer<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hey all.
It’s been awhile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lots has
been happening in my world over the past couple of months and I feel like
sharing some of it with you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my
continuous effort to manage my anxiety etc. I was able to cross something else
off my bucket list.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Solo theatre.
Now, cross off might seem final, but instead, I found it to be an experience
that I need to continue to work on forever.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been
hinted at growing up that I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">may</i> have
a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tad</i> of a desire to take to the
stage. The timing is perfect for me now since I am at an age and stage in my
life where I am willing to do battle with my self-doubt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s still
there, but I’m doing it anyway. For all of my life I have been looking for
artificial ways to deal with my emotional ups and downs. Though they haven’t
worked, they have certainly given me a shitload of material to work with as far
as storytelling goes! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s only
now that I am able to look back through the humiliation and despair and see the
bit of (ok, a lot of) humour in my past behaviour. If I wasn’t able to do that,
I would have been sucked down the drain of life for good.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At T minus
3 years to 50, I’m ready. I’ve wanted to perform and make people laugh since I
could walk, but I didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. I would
perform in my head and in some really dark times, perform while intoxicated and
called it acting.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong>Soulo
Theatre Founder and Artistic Director Tracey Erin Smith,</strong> has shown me a better
way to clear the gunk out of my system and turn it into theatre. I found I
enjoyed it so much more than flushing it out with alcohol. The euphoria I feel
on the stage for 10 minutes is 1000x more than the 30 minutes of euphoria I
feel getting drunk. The rest of the time is blank. And I don’t want any more
blank spaces.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s ok
what others think. It’s totally ok for people to roll their eyes. It’s more
than ok for others to not “get” what I mean when I say that storytelling is not
only fulfilling to me in so many ways and I will continue, it is also the best
therapy I could have hoped for in my life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So keep
those challenges coming. It’s all excellent material.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And thanks
to Soulo Theatre for showing me the way. And big thanks to Tracey, Brian, Kat, Chris, Domini and Eleni for the support.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Find your “thing” and make it work for you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-43625065622001404782015-05-01T12:00:00.002-07:002015-05-01T12:00:51.751-07:00This S*&t Matters
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There truly
is something to be said for the freedom of being able to insult your closest
friends after not seeing them for a few months.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My core
group of girlfriends have grown from loud mouthed, free-wheeling, chandelier
swinging party girls to loud mouthed, free-wheeling, less chandelier swinging
(possibility of broken hips and all) party women. This group has been around
for the milestones. They been around for the long absences. They’ve been around
for the questionable decisions and they’ve been around for a laugh whenever
needed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I saw
a couple of these gals for lunch yesterday, I don’t think I managed to get my
full butt in the booth before the insults were flying. It was like coming home.
We comment on hair, what we’re wearing, what we’ve been doing or not doing and
frankly just shooting the shit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Someone like
me who can spend quite a bit of time in the dark, seeing these girls is a shot
of light that will keep me “up” for several days after the encounter. Whenever
we get together we reminisce, but we always manage to do something stupid in
that moment keeping our material fresh at all times.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s not
always easy for me to be social. When I am social, it’s always best with them.
I appreciate that. It matters.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You girls
need to know that you’ve helped me in more ways than I can say. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thanks
Mary, Kimmer, Donna and Latch<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-41756104550497124892015-04-20T10:52:00.001-07:002015-04-20T10:52:42.759-07:00Should I or Shouldn't I?
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Should I or
shouldn’t I?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I realize
for the first time that I have spent the better part of my career (25+ years)
trying to hide my disorder instead of trying to advance my career.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Let’s face
it, that many years ago, if I did try to talk about it, the subject was either
too uncomfortable for others or I was too embarrassed to bring it up. I looked
for excuses to cover up any behaviour that could now be attributed to my
disorder when I probably should have thought about healthier ways to cope. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a young
adult, I self-medicated. Not gonna lie, it was a method I grew accustomed too
and relied on for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">way</i> too many years.
I could kick myself sometimes, and then I try to switch my thinking back to
being positive. I didn’t know then what I know now. It’s a simple explanation,
but difficult to process nonetheless.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As an adult
who lives with a mental illness diagnosis, it’s hard sometimes to forget about
it. It’s there and depending on who you are talking to or working for, there’s
always, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">always</i> trepidation about how
much to share and when to share it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t
hide it anymore, but I sure don’t wear a sandwich board announcing my condition
to passersby. It used to be shame that kept my mouth closed, now it’s more
careful thought given <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">before</i> opening
my mouth. I’ll do it, I just try to gauge my circumstances as thoroughly as I
can before I do.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I ask
myself a couple of key questions (knowing that I may not get the honest answer,
but I accept that).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Why am I disclosing? Does it benefit my
situation and does it make sense for the other person to know? Will my
disclosure bring about common understanding that can be useful? Do I trust the
other person to at least try to process and understand?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are
probably a slew of others, but those are some key ones that I keep in mind.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am an
advocate for mental health awareness and so I’m obviously not shy about talking
about my disorder <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(after all, the
internet is kind of a public forum),</i> but not everyone is going to read my
blog and not everyone will be interested in hearing my particular story.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The whole
point of my work around eradicating stigma <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(wouldn’t
that be wonderful?)</i> is to at minimum start the conversation toward
understanding. A person with mental illness shouldn’t have to prove to anyone
how sick they actually are or how little/much they can handle. Conversely those
suffering with a disorder such as mine, should not force others to be
compassionate and make demands that we may not have the right to make. People
understand or they won’t. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will keep
at it as long as I can to spread the positive word around coping with mental
illness. By god, it can be done.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-43700652140018173982015-04-07T16:08:00.003-07:002015-04-07T16:08:45.995-07:00Birthdays and Prom Dates
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I discovered something while celebrating my 47<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>
birthday this past weekend. Having a non-milestone birthday is like going to
prom with someone who is just <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You know what I mean, right? Having a birthday, any birthday
is really nice. Don’t get me wrong, it’s just the fanfare isn’t there like it
is when you turn 21, 30 or the big 4-0. People acknowledge on your facebook wall
and you receive some cards, but it’s more like…”hey, it’s your birthday..yay”.
As opposed to the parties and hoopla that often surround a milestone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am not complaining, far from it. It’s just an observation.
It makes me think of my grade 12 prom when I went with a friend. I feel
terrible because we had a great time, but his name escapes me. He didn’t have a
girlfriend, I didn’t have a boyfriend, so we went together. Kind of a “hey, it’s
your prom…yay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">None of the fireworks or romance, just a nice time. I had
someone to hold my hair back when I puked and he got to walk in with a hot
babe. Not necessarily in that order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Strangely as I sit here writing this, I realize I feel much
the same at 47 as I did at 17. I’m sure I’ve matured. I know I’ve made some
adult decisions along the way. Heck, I’ve been married more than once and I
have a teenager. Still, I enjoy much of the things about life that I enjoyed at
17.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That’s part of the beauty of having a birthday, any
birthday. Even on those “off” milestone years, you get the opportunity to
reflect on your life and your place in the world. Memories pleasant and
otherwise bubble to the service and you see just how far you’ve come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I look in the mirror and still see the kid I used to be. I
see the person who has withstood a lot of adversity and can still laugh every
single day. That’s a gift. Every day you wake up alive is a gift whether it’s a
milestone year or not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I look in the mirror and I realize that I wear 47 well. Yay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-76143406999958363602015-04-02T05:42:00.000-07:002015-04-02T05:42:23.184-07:00The Anxious Person's Worst Nightmare Day<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have
restrained myself for an almost full 24 hours waiting for April Fool’s Day to
pass. Or as I like to call it, The Anxious Person’s Worst Nightmare Day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Seriously,
I cannot ever remember a time in my life when I wasn’t beside myself with worry
that I would be pranked on April Fool’s Day. When you already wake up each and
every morning assuming life will prank you in some way, imagine the terror when
there is an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">actual day</i> dedicated to
and sanctioned for pranking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I shudder
just thinking about it. Not only do I think April Fool’s Day is just plain mean
at the best of times, it just adds another thing for me to worry about on an
already long list. I simply haven’t got the time to layer on more anxiety about
the unknown. The fact that April Fool’s Day even exists is enough to put me on
edge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And another
thing, April Fool’s Day is for comedy amateurs anyway. If a prank isn’t just
plain mean, it’s usually just really stupid and lame. Ok. Ok. I’m sure all of
you have either crafted a brilliant prank and pulled it off or been the
recipient of a clever stunt, but I think those are a rarity. Making people look
stupid (and worse, feel stupid) is not my idea of a good time. Again, I have enough
trouble not making myself look stupid on a daily basis! I don’t need the
assistance, believe me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My family
knows that it is not in their best interest to prank me on April Fool’s Day. I
am not, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">repeat not</i>, a good sport in
any way shape or form. I become angry and vindictive and things are thrown. It
is not pretty and it usually ends in tears. My boys know to leave me out of the
shenanigans and I thank them for it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Trust me,
this stand against April Fool’s Day isn’t about me not enjoying a good laugh.
But that’s just the point<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, I enjoy a good
laugh</i>. Saran wrapping the toilet seat, setting an alarm clock an hour
early, telling your spouse you are having an affair with their sister…not
funny!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, as I
begin to relax and unwind a little, I plan on enjoying today and then ramping
up my additional anxiety anticipating next year.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-28646850745425405162015-03-19T07:57:00.001-07:002015-03-19T07:57:33.096-07:00Judge, Jury and Executioner
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My family
has had a disappointing experience over the past couple of days around mental
illness and the all too common stigmas attached to it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Listen, I
get that discussing mental illness can be a conversation killer at the best of
times, that’s why we never let it define us as people or make depression and
anxiety the centrepiece of who we are.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Having said
that, it is terribly sad when family members turn away and blame those that are
or have suffered from the debilitating effects of depression.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve always said and will continue to say
until the day I die, if you have depression you would not wish it on your worst
enemy. It is a life altering and extremely lonely place to be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband
and I want to be the kind of parents who are open enough to discuss mental
health with our kids so that, God forbid, should they suffer in the future, we
will offer them safety and compassion. Compassion is key. I have never asked
anyone to “fix” my depression nor has my husband during his struggles. We have
always just asked for a little patience and compassion as we work through the
cycle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When
people, particularly close family members, are unwilling or incapable of such
compassion, the difficult decision must be made to do without those individuals;
sometimes forever. If there is willingness on the part of the depressed person
to take responsibility for behaviours that may have occurred or seemed hurtful
in the throes of illness, it is also the responsibility of said family to at
least listen. If it cannot go beyond that and understanding cannot be reached,
perhaps the relationship must end.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We have
experienced this in our family and it is a horrible feeling. Horrible yes, but
to apologize for being depressed and making rash decisions is no different than
asking for the cancer patient to apologize for getting sick and throwing up in
front of you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Sadly, we
have a long way to go in eradicating the dark cloud of stigma that contending
with a mental illness brings. In our family, we are grateful <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">every day</i> for every day. We have friends
and family who may or may not fully understand the depths of despair that can be
reached, but are willing to listen with compassion.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In this
recent event, my husband was given a list by a family member of his bad
behaviours and a demand for an explanation before said family member would
consider letting him back in. Please note: the time in question was over five
years ago without a word, a note, a care from this family member when it really
would have meant something. Compassionate family members absolutely have the right
to be hurt, disappointed and even angry at a depressed person’s actions before
they receive treatment. It does NOT however, give them the right to act as
judge, jury and executioner.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is true,
as with any illness, a person must take on responsibility for getting well if
that is the desire, but they do not have to stand in front of family member and
be judged worthy (or not) of support.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">That </span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;">behaviour is far worse than anything a
depressed person could do. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-41333127138404062502015-03-09T05:52:00.000-07:002015-03-09T05:52:05.454-07:00Standing Your Ground from the Penalty Box
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My son got
a penalty in hockey this past weekend.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It got me
thinking about the whole playing by the rules and not playing dirty vs.
standing your ground and standing up for yourself. Granted, in sports there are
boundaries and rules that are there to keep us focused on the game and to not
allow players to deteriorate into a bloodbath, but are there times when bending
the rules to reach your end game (i.e. winning) ok?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I watch my
son every weekend play his heart out on the ice. I also notice that my skinny
little thirteen year old isn’t afraid of anybody! Sure, he may suffer from
sometimes debilitating anxiety in other areas of life, but when he is focused
on a goal and that goal is in jeopardy of not being met, watch out. He is
fearless on the ice no matter what size the opposing player may be. He knows
what he needs to do and he does it. In today’s case, he likely went a little
far and received a penalty for his trouble (as he should have). What struck me
is how tenacious he can be and how I wish that I had more of that sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I don’t
play sports and I’m not sure I’ve ever had a really competitive spirit, but
man, there are times in my life I wish I could have just stood up for myself
and not worried so much about how I would be perceived. I’ve spent most of my
life relegating my point of view to the back burner in favour of keeping the
peace. Sometimes, I was made to feel that what I thought or did was clearly
wrong and if that happens enough, you just start to doubt your own judgement
and keep your mouth shut.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The older I
get, I accept that I am a relatively intelligent human being who is entitled to
her own beliefs and opinions and if handled respectfully, should be able to express
them for the greater good. Sometimes that isn’t always possible with the people
in my life, but at least I am looking at this with a new perspective. I don’t
want to compete for air time or force my point of view down other’s throats, nor
do I want to be bullied into backing down. This is a tactic I’ve been subject
to throughout my adult life and I’m finding that it is working less and less on
me (which is a positive thing).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My hope is
to continue learning from my son and hoping that he is able to make smart
decisions and stand his ground for the important stuff in his life. I want him
to respect the differing of views of others and to not make people feel somehow
less for not agreeing with him. As a parent, I don’t think I am any different
from anyone else for wanting that for my kid.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">In the
meantime, I will continue to watch him make his way on and off the ice and hope
to God he spends less time in life’s penalty box and more times in the winners’
circle. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-49832576523681936582015-03-06T07:19:00.002-08:002015-03-06T07:19:45.506-08:00Don't mind me. I'm Sick
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve
learned something about myself this week.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve always
hated being sick, but not for the reasons I initially thought. I thought I
hated being sick for the obvious reasons like feeling like crap. I was home
yesterday nursing what has become a pretty dreadful cold when I discovered
there was more at play here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I sat
down on my couch, blanket and tea in hand, I was swept with an overwhelming sadness.
It wasn’t the kind of sadness that accompanies any physical ailments, it was
more sadness cloaked in guilt. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As you
probably already know, nothing is ever easy when you have an anxiety disorder.
Instead of just realizing and accepting you are sick and deal, I have to turn
it into a huge big deal that has me questioning my overall contribution to
life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For
example, by taking the day yesterday and resting, I used a good portion of the
day laying on the couch and berating the fact that there were countless things
I could be doing at the moment to better the world. Instead of taking my Neo Citron
and tuning in, mindlessly, to Maury and Jerry Springer, I bemoaned the fact
that life was going on outside of my house without me and that soon I would be
a distant memory to the players in my life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes, I go
that far. The common cold is anything, but common when coupled with everything
else that goes on inside my body and that includes my brain. I don’t have a
martyr complex. I know this for sure because I know martyrs. When martyrs get
sick, they haul their sorry asses out of bad no matter how bad they feel, get
dressed and spread their illnesses throughout the community in the name of “the
show must go on”. They say things like, “Don’t mind me.” Hack. Cough. Hack. “I
just have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">too</i> much to do and I don’t
want to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">burden</i> anyone else with it.” Sniffle.
Sneeze. Hack.. “Don’t get too close, I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">highly</i>
contagious, but still, I’ve got to be here or the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">entire</i> operation will grind to a halt.” THAT’S a martyr and trust
me, that ain’t me. I’m too self-obsessed to be a martyr.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When I’m
sick, I feel there is NOTHING I can do, but roll myself into a ball and spend
the day berating myself and trying not to talk to anyone. I make a mental list
of all my life’s goals and then systematically go through it and tell myself why
I will never accomplish anything since I am such a sickly, pathetic creature. I
think about the world of activity going on outside my door and how I will <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">never</i> be a part of it. I think of all
the inside jokes I am missing and that stresses me out (I LOVE inside jokes).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Instead of
just leaning back and enjoying the solace for a day and the comfort my little
dogs can bring me, I wreck it by assuming there are several fun and/or
important things going on without my participation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There may
be one positive that comes from the cycling of anxious thoughts, they take my
mind off the body aches, sniffles and annoying cough that threatens to blow my
head clean off of my shoulders. Small mercies.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-56708639217863376612015-02-27T10:29:00.000-08:002015-02-27T10:32:04.806-08:00I Love you Please don't call me Call me!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s Friday
afternoon and the weekend is here. My friends are annoyed that I don’t keep in
better touch with them. Fair statement.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am scared
to answer the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There, I
said it. To all the people in my life who get annoyed when I don’t pick up, don’t
always return calls and hardly ever reach out by phone, now you know. Is it
rational? Of course not, but when has that every stopped me?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The phone
is a necessary tool for communication, I get that. It's miraculous and just keeps
getting more and more miraculous with every smartphone incarnation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The fact
is, I don’t care how smart the damn things are, they scare me. I am still intimidated
when it rings (or in my case, plays the theme from the A Team) demanding my
attention. I have a real phobia about answering the phone and I have to
strategize my way through it every single time. I rarely pick up the first time
around. Usually, I wait for the little message icon to show up in the upper
left side of my screen and then take a little longer to determine if I am
capable of listening to the message at that time. The deciding factor usually
comes when the phobia of seeing the little message icon outweighs the phobia of
not answering the phone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All kinds
of deep seeded anxieties are at play here and we are only scratching the
surface. To be fair, my phone phobia really has nothing to do with the phone. I
think it might be because I don’t like being caught off guard. I am a very
jumpy person. In my last post, I described how I definitely do not go with the
flow. This is a prime example of how I need to try and control my every
interaction with people, especially those closest to me. I have no idea why. I <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">definitely</i> love my friends and family
and most <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">definitely</i> want to be
included in the lives, but the phone is both my conduit and my barrier to the
outside world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here’s how
this usually plays out. Inevitably what happens is that I am bummed that no one
wants to hang out with me. I sulk and feel alone and unloved. One of my friends
calls to invite me out. I do not pick up the phone. I have a panic attack. Then
I calm down. Then I have a panic attack again when I realize that everyone is
hanging out without me. If that isn’t bad enough, then I log into Facebook and
see photos of my friends hanging out without me and laughing and enjoying
themselves because I am not there. I have another panic attack.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It a
vicious circle that keeps me awake at night. Anxiety is my gift that keeps on
giving because as I sit here typing this post, you may be trying to call me and
I see you on call display. There must be a 12 step program for this, but for
now, I love you, but I am not picking up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-32623357938673116292015-02-24T05:45:00.001-08:002015-02-24T05:45:07.908-08:00Falling Flat on my Face
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Failure
reared its ugly head a couple of days ago and forced me to pay attention.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Like anyone
else, I try to look upon failure as an opportunity to learn. I try to tell
myself that it’s those failures in life that make me stronger and wiser. That
the mistakes of today will become the successes of tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Blah. Blah.
Blah.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The reality
is simple; failure, on any level, sucks. I have to admit that to myself first,
before I can hope to accept things gracefully. I don’t feel full of grace at
the moment. In fact, I feel the opposite of grace. I feel whiny, rejected,
stupid, and incompetent.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You see,
for me, I take things perhaps a little further than some shall we say, more
level headed individuals? That is not to say that I don’t get to where I need
to be in order to accept and move on, it simply means that I have a series of “unconventional”
steps I need to take to get there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">First, once
receiving word that I have, um, failed, I have to automatically assume that I
have failed at any and all things I have tried over the years. This one
particular failure represents every perceived shortcoming I have ever
experienced in my life. Next, I have to run and hide. If there is no physical
place to hide, I pretend that I am invisible and therefore I am “hiding”. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Following
that, I generally work myself into a state of complete nervousness that has me
second guessing every decision I have ever made in my life. I believe myself to
be a fraud and therefore undeserving of any positive recognition or
reinforcement. I also believe that any compliments I have been given in the
past should and will be revoked by the giver now that I am a colossal failure.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This
process may take days, hours or even mere minutes. The point is, this is a
process that is unavoidable for me. I accept that I am built this way. I will
never allow things to roll off my back like the proverbial duck. I will never
be able to go with flow. I have never, ever taken things as they come. Easy
going is not my middle name.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">However, despite
the high drama I find myself embroiled in (mostly in my head), I do come out
the other side relatively unscathed and looking fabulous. The lesson I have
learned from this latest failing, is that my acceptance of the situation has occurred
faster than it ever has before. I have not melted into a puddle and presumed that
every undertaking from now on will be like this last one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It has in
fact, become clear to me that I am capable of managing any outcome, positive or
otherwise and there is a sense of peace in that for me. The peace comes at a
price (sleepless nights, never ending what-ifs), but come it does.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, I must
end this entry and go and take my antacid which is key to my overall "dealing with
failure process.” It <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">used</i> to be
whisky in a flask, but I digress.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-72154314781488007942015-02-20T06:20:00.000-08:002015-02-20T06:20:28.746-08:00The Truth about Butterflies
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anxious butterflies have served me well in the romance
department. Not real life romance of course, but all the glorious romantic
situations that constantly unfold in my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In my head, there are always dramatic plot twists, soaring
musical scores and a mandated happily ever after. The heroine (that’s me),
rarely makes a misstep and when she (I) does, it’s utterly adorable and
forgivable. Her (My) missteps make her that much more endearing and lovable to
the hero.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have spent my fair share of time over the years trying to
duplicate the perfect romance in real life. I have not always been successful
(pause for uproarious laughter from those who know me), but I have never given
up on those happy endings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anxiety, as I may have mentioned at some point in earlier
posts, is a great tool to fuel the imagination. Since everything negative is
amplified by the anxious spirit, I’ve always believed that the opposite holds
true as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am certain that I have had dragons slain for me, broken
dozens of hearts, had ballads written about me, and forced many a poor soul
into monkhood because they can’t have me. All of this while still maintaining
the lovable girl next store image that all men secretly want and all women want
to be. Every now and then I switch to the vixen role, but the results are
usually disastrous and end with me either falling down or apologizing
profusely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At any rate, romance and anxiety go hand in hand because
while I may be scared of the paperboy coming to the door, I have never been
scared to chase those romantic dreams. I have never shied away from love
(again, pause for uproarious laughter) and believe in forever, even after a few
false starts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband, Paul, is a prime example of this perseverance.
When I was 14 and he was 18, I used to follow him around the mall, discreetly
of course, most Saturdays. I felt sure that if he saw me, it would all be over
and he would have to sweep me into his arms and ride off into the sunset. It
didn’t matter to me that I was just starting grade 9, you can’t fight destiny.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Side note: when my friend Michelle and I would go into Big
Boy’s after him and I asked to sit a few booths away so he “wouldn’t notice me”
(didn’t want the spell to be broken too soon, you see), she brought it all back
to reality as only she can, “Lori, he wouldn’t notice you if you sat in his
lap.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hurtful, but in hindsight, I guess it was an appropriate
statement since he likely could have been arrested if he took up with me at
that time. Knowing that he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">obviously </i>had
to fight his feelings in accordance with the law at that time, just makes me appreciate
him more now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are positives to living with sometimes crippling
anxiety. That kind of intensity was made for romance! Just keep an eye on the
creepy factor so as not to stumble into stalker territory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-42021209189066873802015-02-12T14:33:00.001-08:002015-02-12T14:34:17.738-08:00My Moral Compass and Organized Crime<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been
said that I would make a terrible criminal. I think that’s ironic given that I
am obsessed with organized crime and murder programs. I can’t get enough of
Investigation ID. I think I could give up just about any of my cable channels
if I could keep that one. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The titles
of the shows themselves are inspired. Snapped, Murder Comes to Town, Mobsters,
Homicide Hunter (love that one!), Forensic Factor, Deadly Sins, Sins and
Secrets, Deadly Affairs, Fatal Vows. Ok, admittedly, maybe inspired is a bit strong
since reading those titles back put me in mind of several romance novels from
the 70s.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I
digress.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I picture
myself as a mob boss quite often. I feel that I could totally pull this off. I
imagine myself sitting at a boardroom table tenting my fingers and deciding who
needs to get “whacked.” I think I would call myself The Face, but sit with my
back to people, shrouded in shadows so people wouldn’t actually see my face. I
think that’s a pretty intimidating image, don’t you?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, I
would run all kinds of raquets (or is it rackets?) and have many soldiers out
on the streets taking care of business. I would never have to put air in my own
tires or pump my own gas. I would never have to take out the recycling, compost
or touch anything gross and I would have people to piggyback me around town
with a pedometer on so I will clock the steps without having to actually step.
I would also be first in line at Starbucks (particularly sweet when the
Saturday morning “run club” comes in and tries to takeover).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I would
have a few rules too; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no teasing
puppies, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no stealing from the Salvation
Army drums (although I’m flexible on whether or not they steal the jingle bells
at Christmas), no yelling at pharmacists as they are my friends and no
overdoing it at the Costco sample tables (that’s just tacky).<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The truth
of all of this lies in the fact that as much as I would like to be flexible
with my moral crime compass, the idea of actually getting in any kind of
trouble leaves me palpitating and incapable of talking. Just ask my husband. I
freeze up during RIDE season and I don’t even drink for God’s sake.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Still, participating
in a crime spree does hold appeal for me, but don’t tell my mom. She doesn’t
like crime as much as I do and wouldn’t understand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-42604698972137439762015-02-09T14:36:00.000-08:002015-02-09T14:36:28.277-08:00Raven Lunatic Has Entered the Building
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For me, my anxiety is so physical, I can hardly uncurl from
the fetal position. Even if I’m standing upright, inside, I am curled in on
myself as much as possible. I am hidden inside my own body if that makes any
sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then Raven Lunatic pops up (my anxious alter ego – and don’t
be offended by the name, humour and bad taste are key ingredients to my working
through the sucky stuff) and she is calling the shots. In fact, I feel like I’ve
been blindfolded and turned around and around and left in the woods to find my
way out. The only trouble is, I can’t move my legs to even start. I watch from
a distant as my alter ego skips out of the forest and wreaks havoc for a few
days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The havoc, I should mention, is not earth shattering, but it
is painful for me. Let’s start at the beginning. Waking up is harrowing. Have
you every woken up in a full blown panic attack? If you have, you know of what
I speak. It is like an internal burglar alarm going off in your brain. There is
indescribable panic that has you running for the bathroom to pee. Usually, I
hit the door first, fall down and then scramble down the hall, all the while hoping
no one else wakes up and notices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am filled with dread and coated in sweat. If my day begins
like this, I have to spend the rest of the day in an internal battle with Raven
to at least balance some of the control she has stolen from me. She sees
herself as playful, I see her as a pain in the ass. She makes me question
everything and wonder about everyone’s motives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is everyone I care about ok? Did I turn my flat iron off?
What happens if the fire alarm goes off? Will I get a bill if it’s a false
alarm? What if I run out of gas and can’t find my CAA card? What if the CAA guy
abducts me? What if I go to yoga and get stuck in the lotus position and
someone has to untangle me? What if I fall asleep and never wake up? Where does
a person go when they dream? Will I stick with one decision when it comes to Rogers
or Bell? Will my husband ever stop smoking even though he quit? I feel sick. My
head hurts. Raven has total control when I’m in this state.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Whew.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am exhausted after a visit from Raven Lunatic and the
trouble is, I never know how long she plans to stay. When I was younger, it
wasn’t so much of a problem because I could self-medicate and actually enjoy
her highly erratic vibe. Those days are long gone and I just don’t have the
energy to fuel her. But she still comes and I have to manage. Her visits are
further between, maybe she is starting to realize I am not the fun buddy I used
to be. Maybe she will start just emailing every once in a while and not just
show up on my doorstep whenever she feels like it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Who knows? She is part of me, but taming her is getting a
little easier the older I get. I may never be completely free or her, but I’m
going to stop letting her leave me in the woods. It’s scary in there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-666192300161940562015-02-03T16:06:00.001-08:002015-02-03T16:06:13.308-08:00Happy Birthday Dead Guy and other Peeves
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s a month into 2015 and my optimism is still intact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That said, every once in a while I think it’s healthy to let
off a little steam. Pull out that list of pet peeves that, if left unchecked,
can really start to put a damper on one’s otherwise sunny disposition. Oh don’t
get me wrong, just because I call myself an optimist, doesn’t mean that there
isn’t a laundry list of stuff that run the gambit of mild irritation to all out
wild with rage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, as part of my good mental health hygiene (new for 2015),
I thought I’d share some of the top contenders on my laundry list of peeves.
Maybe you share a few. Maybe you don’t because you are a much more tolerant,
spiritually awakened human being than I’ll ever hope to be (but I doubt it).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wishing dead people a happy birthday – first of
all, the person is dead therefore unlikely to be keeping track of how many
candles are on a cake much less able to appreciate the effort of party favours,
presents and cards. The person cannot collect any more birthdays because, as I’ve
pointed out, they are dead. By all means, mark the anniversary of a beloved
person’s birth, but to actually say “Happy Birthday” to a dead person is just
plain mean since you are obviously just rubbing their face into the fact that
they are dead and will not get the first piece of cake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Making things plural that are clearly singular –
Happy Ground Hogs Day or Happy New Years for example. The opposite also bugs
me. For example, can you drop me off at the No Frill? No? How about at Sobey?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">People who know how to artfully and effortlessly
layer their scarves. Equally people who can wear bangles without making their
wrists look fat<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When Keith Morrison has the night off from
Dateline Real Life Mysteries <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">When the bathtub stopper doesn’t fit exactly
right and it makes fart sounds thus ruining the tranquility of my soak<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 18pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Those are just a few of the peeves
that send me into a spin and make it hard for me to concentrate on other areas
of self-improvement (like learning how to align my own chakras and getting my
dogs to learn to use the toilet)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 18pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve learned over the years that
my anxieties are just part of the magic of me and I am embracing them. As my
good friend Donna has pointed out, and I quote “Lor, everyone has their things.
Everyone. And I know because I’m bat shit crazy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 18pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">These my friends, are words to
live by….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 18pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-43230088407625813472015-01-28T13:47:00.000-08:002015-01-28T13:47:56.208-08:00When a Smile is Just Something You Do with Your Mouth<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With today being Bell Let’s Talk day, I have allowed myself
to indulge in a little self-reflection. As a rule, I try not to spend too much
time any more obsessing about my own mental illness mainly because I think I have
done that enough over the years. My quest, of late, has been to accept what is
and manage what I can’t change. It’s been a decent policy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">From earlier posts, you have likely gathered that humour is
my management tool of choice. I do get such a kick out of myself and it’s
helped me weather some pretty major emotional storms. I look back over the
years and I think about how lucky I am to be living in the time I am living. I’m
thinking about all those who have come before me who have struggled with their
own mental illnesses. Those who were brave enough to speak up in a time of more
open misunderstanding and lack of support and those who couldn’t bring
themselves to ask for help and buried their demons so deep, they were eaten up
inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s terrifying to think about. My own father suffered
severe clinical depression from the time he was 17 years old up until his
passing from cancer in 2005. Imagine being that kid in 1957 who can’t get out
of bed or cries continuously and doesn’t know why? Who did he talk to? How did
he manage? Thankfully, even in those early days, he already had my mother. She
was 16 and decided at that time, this was it for her and she loved and
supported him for nearly 50 years. With her support and understanding, he was
able to seek treatments, as scarce or as narrow as they were at the time. He
tried all kinds of medications and even had to resort to shock treatments in
the 80s to help stabilize his moods. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All through it, he managed to be a dad my brother and I
could be proud of and someone we could count on even when he felt like he wasn’t
doing a very good job by us. We never felt that way. He and my mom can be
credited for that. Still, with what I know now with my own experiences, how
scared he must have been at times when he felt at his lowest and most
vulnerable. I know those feelings. I know how lonely it is to be depressed and
anxious and unable to lift yourself up to be the person you know that you are
underneath the layers of sadness, confusion and exhaustion. I know how it feels
to wonder constantly if your child(ren) will know this kind of sadness and how
guilt can stop you in your tracks. I know what it feels like and how tiring it
is to keep yourself “up” when you know that you are not really smiling. A smile
is just something you do with your mouth to make everyone else feel better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It is these shared experiences that I believe that it is
more important than ever to crush the stigma that is attached to mental illness
and to better understand what people go through when they are simply trying to
live their lives as fully and richly as anyone deserves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I look at my son and see all of his amazing qualities that
are right there in front of us and the fact that he has a diagnosis, does not
alter what we or anyone else sees. I hope that he will live in a world that
will see him as the whole person that he is, creative, sensitive, hilarious and
annoying as hell!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Crush stigma. Don’t be afraid to start the conversation. You
never know what you’ll be missing out on if you don’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6207696029897937458.post-19486669843083582282015-01-27T13:34:00.000-08:002015-01-27T13:36:02.208-08:00Zing!<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“May I join you, ladies?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“I don’t
know, you got a Platinum Card?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Hey baby, where you been all my life?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">“In diapers.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t zing. Dammit. Never could. The above are
examples of zings from the past from one of my best friends, Kim. The girl can
zing. I love that quality in men and women. I love it more because I can’t do
it. Being able to zing makes a person that much more attractive. For Kim, she
has to beat men off with a stick because they love it when she puts them down!
She’s awesome. She does it in such a way that it can only be taken with love
and a good hearted, self-deprecating chuckle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve asked her about it in the past. I’ve tried to
probe her and learn her secret. But, like most of my friends, my constant inane
prattling and questioning often bores them into submission and they’re left
wondering what we were talking about in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can’t think fast enough in the moment to zing a
well-deserving recipient. It’s a gift. I’m in awe of people who can. Sometimes
I panic. Sometimes I laugh before I can get the words out. Oh, who am I
kidding? I can’t get formulate a good zing whether I’m laughing or not. My
zings usually happen in the car on the way home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am at my most clever when I am by myself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What’s worse, if, on the off chance I DO come up with
a credible zing, one of two things will happen, guaranteed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One: I will not be able to get the zing out because I
am too excited about how this amazing retort is going to land and that I will
instantly be crowned the funniest person in the room thus ruining the zing by
stumbling over my own over-excited words.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Two: I actually get to deliver my zing. Oh joy. It
lands beautifully. I get the response I hoped to get. Everyone is remarking on
how clever I am, but then it happens. I repeat the zing. I. Repeat. The. Zing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The first and only mark of an amateur. Even as I am
repeating I am telling myself to stop to just let it lay and step away. I
should just bask in the enjoyment of being smarter than everyone else for that
moment in time. No. I ruin it, not only by repeating the actual zing, but by
also poking everyone around me and asking, “See what I did there? See? God, I’m
funny. Did you see that? I just thought of that, did you realize that?” And so
goes more inane prattling which again, leads to boring my audience into
submission and then sleep.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband, Paul is also a master zinger. He’s so good
at it that people are really careful to not say too much around him for fear of
giving him the slightest ammunition. He has coached me countless times on the
art of delivering the zing and as such, has deemed me unteachable in this area.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">He believes (and he has said this with love), I may
just be a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tad</i> high strung to pull off
the cool, this-is-just-off-the-top of my head, kind of remarks. I was slightly
offended at first, but then I realized, hey, I can’t be great at everything. I
have to have some intellectual flaws so that it highlights how great I am in
other areas. Right? Am I right?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yeah, that’s it, great in other areas.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11900087211394249076noreply@blogger.com0