Let’s Talk About IT…

I have this recurring dream.  It started when I was probably 17 or 18.  It’s neither scary or happy, it feels kind of empty. In this dream I am at an art gallery. It’s fancy and everyone is in black, there is music playing. Soft classical piano. The art changes. Sometimes modern paintings, sometimes sculpture, often photography black and white. In the dream I am there but I never see my face. I know it’s me because I’m present in my body but I’m also detached and watching from over head. It’s this really strange two perspective sensation. I always look the same. Hair is up, pearl earrings, black dress that is backless. I am always thin even during times of my life when I am not. My hair is always blonde. I’m looking at the art work and I have a glass of champagne in my hand, a delicate tall thin flute. My nails are perfectly manicured. I’m looking at the art work but I don’t actually see it because I’m not paying attention to it.  I’m waiting. For someone. I assume it’s the artist but I can’t really say because I never actually meet the person I am waiting for. The dream ends in different ways.  In some versions I finish the champagne and leave and I wake with such a heavy feeling of sadness. Sometimes I study the artwork and then the dream just dissipates. Sometimes I feel a hand on my shoulder. That’s my favourite version because I know it’s who I have been waiting for even though I never get more than that feeling of their presence.

I feel like this dream infiltrates my awake world. I often feel that sense of detachment. Like I am in my body but at the same time a spectator watching my life unfold from above. I usually have the feeling of sadness because I am alone. It always feels like I’m waiting for someone, anyone. Just to notice me.

I mentioned before that not all of these posts would be comfortable. For me to write or for others to read. This is going to be one of those.

**Warning**  I am going to talk about sexual things that may challenge your values, attitudes and beliefs. If this makes you uncomfortable especially if you are a family member or friend then I suggest you stop reading.  Browse another blog post like this one, or go back and analyze my dream.

I’m terrible at interpersonal relationships.

With friendships I can come on too strong. It’s like I miss the social cues. I may come for a coffee but stay over too long. I’ve been told by someone else that this is an issue that others are too polite to mention. I can get slightly obsessive and focus all my attention on a particular friend or group and basically ignore my other friendships. I struggle with balance and boundaries and take it personally if a friend tells me they are busy or don’t respond. A good friend of mine, who has been with me every step of this journey said to me, “silent just means busy.”  But I read into and catastrophize the silence. I often have difficulty seeing others needs and take this a personal attack rather than understanding that other people are dealing with their own struggles.

During a manic state it’s all about what is fun, daring and risky and little attention to consequences is paid. I’m the “life of the party”.  My libido is intense and my extroversion is sky high. After the inevitable crash I’m left with a sense of shame for acting outside of my core values. I’ve crossed boundaries and lines sometimes it’s just a toe over. Something like a hug that lingers, extra held eye contact, a brush with my hand on a leg or an arm. Sometimes I go a little further over that line. I might bite an earlobe during a simple goodbye, make overt sexual comments, grab and hold a hand, lap dances because really it’s just “fun”. In some instances I’ve not only crossed the line but crumpled it up and stomped on it. I’ve put myself in some potentially dangerous, compromising situations with individuals that are little more than strangers. And… I’ve had an affair.

Why? I don’t know, I don’t understand it.

I’ve always felt a little like something is wrong with me. That I lack values or maybe I’m a sexual deviant. But I struggle with that idea too because I do have values and this behaviour contradicts what I value.

Recently I came across a term for this – Hypersexuality. 

“Hypersexuality tends to occur during mania or hypomania and it creates the need for sex such that it seems you could claw through a wall if it meant getting to the sex on the other side. Picture being turned ravenously on by a dish towel. Or a floor lamp. Or a piece of tuna fish. And then needing to sate that need with the nearest warm body. Hypersexuality sort of like that.

(Of course, the opposite phenomenon also occurs. When in a depressed phase a person with bipolar may want nothing to do with sex at all.)”

Also:

  • People with bipolar are more sexually adventurous than the average
  • People with bipolar are more likely to have had sex with both genders
  • People with bipolar may or may not identify as bisexual, regardless

I do know that impulse control, especially during a manic state is a thing.  Some people will struggle with drugs and alcohol, shopping, gambling, driving too fast, hypersexuality. Or some people all or many of the above.

Being bipolar means being insatiable. The high of the mania is never high enough. There is always a desire, a need, to push the high to the next level, in the same way a drug addict constantly requires more and stronger drugs. For a person with bipolar disorder, risky behavior can be the best drug of all.”

Hypersexuality is a struggle for me. When I’m manic it’s like I don’t have an off switch.  Jess Melancholia in her post puts it to words better than I could. She says,

“When I’m hypersexual, I get intense cravings for sex. It’s similar to the sort of “butterflies in your stomach” feeling when you fall in love. It’s an intense high that gives me a massive boost in self-confidence. The temptation to act out is so strong I can practically feel it on my skin and taste it on my tongue. The worst part about hypersexuality is I’m never satisfied. I have to actively resist what my body is essentially trying to do on autopilot. If I’m not careful, then I’ll do something I’ll regret.”

And I’ve done things I regret.

But I’m also trying to forgive myself.

And learn to be better.

This is one piece of my bipolar disorder puzzle.  It’s not simply hypersexuality. It also comes from my fear of being alone. So the attention seeking behaviour fills that need. It makes me feel that by being desired that I’m not alone.  It kind of works the same way with friendships.  If I constantly lend myself out, offer to help, and go out of my way it fills that same need of not feeling alone. I guess it goes back to that dream.

I also struggle with boundaries. Not just other peoples boundaries but my own. Someone will ask me to do something (personal or work related) and my head is saying no but my mouth instantly says yes. Then I feel guilt for saying yes when I don’t want to. I’ll take it on and pile my full plate a mile high or I’ll last minute make an excuse why I can’t actually fulfill the commitment. Recently I had an oil change for my car. I had to reschedule it and the day she gave me I knew it didn’t work but my mouth said yes. I then tried to cancel it but I couldn’t so I just didn’t go. Now they are calling me to rebook it but I feel humiliated that I just didn’t go.

Here’s what I am learning.

I’m learning to change the behaviours.  That doesn’t mean I’m always going to get it right. I’m learning to value my time alone and find joy in that time. I’m training myself to love the space I’m in by creating a structured routine of my day, much like I would do when I have the children or am at work. I’m learning to respect my friend’s boundaries and show empathy toward what they are going through. I’m trying to ask them how they are doing instead of launching into a rant about how I am. I’m understanding that silent often does mean busy and not get out of my life. I’m learning to respect my own boundaries and establish for myself what those are. I’m learning that “love” and manipulation are NOT the same thing. I’m learning that I am who I am. I can be me in a way that is risky, fun and exciting but is also safe and doesn’t harm others too.

On Friday I went on a date.  Like a normal, lets have a drink and a bite to eat kind of date. He seemed nice, conversation was great and I was thinking I’m not sure if he’s what I’m looking for but I thought if he’s interested I would go out again.

However, before I left I set up the following boundaries for myself.

  • A kiss is fine but that is all. But ask me, even ask me if you want to hold my hand or hug me. It’s all about respect and consent!
  • I don’t want to be called “beautiful, gorgeous, honey” etc.  Those are presumptuous  terms from someone who is basically a stranger. They make me feel icky.
  • I don’t owe you an explanation so if you ask me something and I politely decline or say that’s a story for another time, it needs to be respected and not probed deeper.

He didn’t follow all my boundaries. And to be fair I didn’t share them but I am kind of looking for someone who just is naturally that way. Someone’s who values and boundaries align with mine.

When he texted me the next morning I instantly felt compelled to agree to meeting up again, because he was nice enough and I was feeling guilt for not wanting to disappoint him. I also felt maybe my bar is too high I mean let’s face it I’m a risky investment. Getting caught up with me – who would even want that? I also told myself I don’t want someone who is nice, I want daring, risky, dangerous. But really that wasn’t any of it. I went back to the boundaries I established for myself in the first place. He didn’t follow my rules. Period. I can change my mind, I have choices. So I thanked him, politely declined and wished him luck in his search (thanks to my awesome support network for helping me through it).

So I am learning, and I do want to change my behaviour.

I also think, that this week I’m going to go to the local art gallery, and I’m going to let my hair down lose and wild and i’m going to take my time and really appreciate and soak in every single art piece that is in there.  And I’m going to go it alone!

xo

 

Medication

There’s this underlying idea that taking medication for brain disorders is okay if it’s a short term solution. To give your time to sort your life out and get it together and get back on track.

This was the mindset that I had.  When I had postpartum depression with my second child I was relived to be prescribed Zoloft. Everything I understood about PPD led me to believe it was a temporary condition that would correct itself once my hormones were balanced and the medication simply let me weather the storm.  I didn’t feel shame, though I did feel like I fought the fight and then threw in the towel. But I was okay because this was not going to be forever.

A year later I weaned off Zoloft.

November 2016 I went on Wellbutrin (I didn’t love Zoloft because it made me feel too flat).  Again, in my mind this was a temporary fix for a problem directly related to a situation that I needed help weathering. A few months before, in August my long term relationship and marriage to my husband had ended.  This was not a “neat” and “tidy” separation. It was “messy” and “enormous” and built on lies, partial truths, deception, anger and hurt. Storms had been brewing between my ex and I for quite a few years.  We lost the ability to communicate and rather than coming together to find common ground we became angry, retaliatory and distant. Looking back I can see that my mental illness played a huge part in this break down and of course my ex had his own issues to navigate.

The breakdown event was a trigger for what was diagnosed as Depression, Anxiety and Borderline Personality Disorder. A misdiagnosis for Bipolar I disorder, which I wouldn’t uncover for another year and a half. So after fighting the good fight for 3 months I took the meds. This time there was more shame attached and eventually I went back to the Dr. because it wasn’t working. I had Celexa added and then this past January the Celexa was removed and Effexor was added, and Wellbutrin reduced. I was also in counselling.  All of this treatment was only going to be short term.  Until I got it together, adjusted and accepted my new life as a divorced mom of two.

Except it didn’t get better.  It got worse. Much worse.

As it turns out the medication I was taking to treat Anxiety/Depression was making me worse.  Because I was misdiagnosed and actually I had Bipolar I disorder.  after a correct diagnosis was given my medication was switched to a mood stabilizer. In my case, Lamotrigine.  I felt a sense of relief and hope. With a correct diagnosis I could educate myself and learn about the illness.  With the correct medication I could take the edge off, get it together, become adjusted and accept my life as a divorced mom of two.

But then she said it.

The psychiatrist on the inpatient mental health floor. “You need to understand that you will need to be on a mood stabilizing medication for the rest of your life. If you come off of it, your manic episodes followed by the crash into depression will return.”  I told her I understood but that night I cried myself to sleep.

Pharmaceuticals are bad for us. They are suppose to be a temporary solution until you find the proper diet, exercise, lifestyle, essential oil, meditation, organic food option to actually keep you well. The aren’t suppose to be forever.

But it’s not true. That might be the truth for some people. But the truth is a combination of all of this is wellness.

What works for me works for me and that’s it.  I shouldn’t feel shame because I’m going to need a mood stabilizer for the rest of my life.  Because it will keep me alive. I may have side effects (brain fog, sleepiness). There may be long term harm caused (I’ve heard it harms your immune system) but the reality is the medication is keeping me alive. It’s taken away all passive and active suicidal thoughts. It is slowing down my brain so when the mania builds and I’m about to make an impulsive decision it gives time for to make more reasonable decision or at the very least turn to my support network.

Don’t assume that because I’m medicated that I’m not allowed to have bad days. I’m still going to have days that are challenging.  I’m still going to feel the euphoria of a manic episode going on.  The medication will not make Bipolar Disorder disappear. It’s not like an infection that will clear up with a good round of antibiotics. It’s one piece of the wellness puzzle.  For me, I need therapy, I need to run and work out, I need to snuggle my dog, I need to journal, I need to sing, I need people – the people who love me because being lonely is a major trigger for my mania. I need a good budget and savings plan. I need to learn boundaries and respect the boundaries I’ve established for myself. I need to write this blog and be upfront and open and honest. I need to become a mental health advocate.  All of these things are what will help me manage my illness.

So I’m accepting that being on medication is going to be for the rest of my life.  And i’m okay with that.

 

 

 

Getting My Finances in Order

Remember in the beginning I said not all of these posts would be easy. This is one and there is a lot of shame and guilt attached to it. It’s about finances.

This weekend I talked to my mom, and my best friend, and my ex-husband (all people who know me well and know that finances are a struggle for me) and they all said I can get on top of this. That I’ve done so much healing emotionally so maybe it’s time to get this in order. My mom said “write about it, it always makes you feel better.” She is onto something because writing is very healing for me. It gives me perspective, it allows my brain to slow down and plan instead of just reacting. It gives me time to process what I want to say.

My best friend said, “I think this might be linked to your bipolar disorder.” I found this a weird comment because how could it be?

Turns out it might.

Naturally, I did some research last night. I read earlier from another blogger (I wish I saved the link) that finances were a struggle for her too that it was a symptom of Bipolar Disorder.  This shocked me because I never considered the two related but it is. There is a ton of research and anecdotal evidence to suggest it is.  

I particularly liked this quote which talks about feeling confident and feeling invincible with money:

“Then you “wake up” after the mania and find yourself with half the savings you had before – feeling embarrassed and worried about your future. This might have a negative impact on your self-esteem, family functioning and confidence in moving forward. It might even trigger an episode of depression.”

This quote was extremely eye-opening as well. “Typically, impulsive or self-destructive behaviour around money and sex are two of the most classic symptoms of mania.” Actually when I read it, my heart raced because both statements were true. I had participated in both types of self-destructive behaviours.  Yes, that’s right – both.

I found these images from a report by Dr. Thomas Richardson called, “Bipolar Disorder and Financial Difficulties.” I connected to the visual and it made sense to me. The impulsiveness, the desire for comfort, excessive generosity, plans to make more money, worry about finances, avoiding finances, poor planning, regret and guilt. Every.Single.One, every single one of these fits my profile!

So the research fits, but here’s my own personal evidence and story.

A few months ago I had a major melt down because it had been rumoured that I couldn’t pay my bills and I was thinking of selling my house. I was so upset because the truth is while it was a strain, even a struggle I had managed to make it happen, I never skipped a bill or mortgage payment even when I was unpaid for a year and a half. It wasn’t always easy but in the end it always worked out. But, there was some truth to the rumour.

I was surviving but no thriving and there wasn’t any reason for it financially.  On paper, my house, my bills worked well within my budget. I would wonder so often why it was always tight, and sometimes needed to use my credit cards or overdraft to make it through. I would joke “thank god for overdraft” while simultaneously feeling sick to my stomach. I would redo my budget only to figure out that the numbers made sense. So what was happening? I concluded that it was simply because I was unpaid from March – August  and then only 80% salary from September – December. But I had savings from the sale of my house, it should have more than got me through.

When I look back on my bank records it’s shocking. There were large purchases like 9000.00 for a cosmetic surgery procedure, 700.00 for an apple watch for a friend plus another 500.00 to get one for me. Close to 1000.00 in tattoos over the year, 1400.00 for flights to Florida plus the condo cost, rental car, food and shopping. 1000.00 to have my house painted (which didn’t actually get done but that’s another post). 8000.00 for new appliances for my townhouse because the ones it came with were clearly not good enough. 2000.00 as a car downpayment.

Those are the huge things the day to day is just as bad!  Typically a month can look like this;

$15.68 Wendy’s

$83.54 Nail Salon

$21.00 McDonalds

#3.55 Tim Hortons

$5.00 overdraft fee

$49.49 Pet Valu

$19.75 Home Depot (for decor items)

$38.57 Canadian Tire (plants for my garden)

$16.82 Symposium Cafe

$46.77 Kelly’s Bake Shoppe.

Total: 300.17 in extra, not needed purchases!

This doesn’t account for the Amazon purchases on my credit card either.

Why does this happen?  Entitlement I feel like I’ve worked hard and I have a great career so I deserve it.  To ease guilt for my children for changing their whole world but also to ease guilt for myself to make life seem less of a downgrade. A self-medicating response to stress. When I have extra money/savings I feel so confident, and blessed so I just carefree spend it. Impulsive spending sprees when my mood is good (or in a manic state). It spirals out of control very quickly and I tell myself, “It’s fine, I’ll make it work”, “I can pay it off next pay”, or “I deserve nice things because I work hard”.

But I don’t want this anymore. It brings happiness for a moment, it eases the guilt/shame for a minute. It cures stress for a second but then it makes me feel sadder, more guilty and a lot more stress.

I want to get this in control because only then will I actually be in a place where I am thriving. I overheard my best friend saying this weekend to someone when they were talking about making large purchases or going on trips “Save for today to spend for tomorrow” I want to adopt that mindset. I want less things, and more moments.

My ex told me through my tears, that I need to release myself of my guilt.  That the kids are fine and the love me and they love the life we have created for them even if it’s in separate homes now.  He told me they just want to be with me they don’t actually care about gifts, trips, movies, amusement parks. He said those things won’t be what they remember.  He also said the flip side is sometimes we just have to go for it – he told me getting the dog (I recently purchased a shepherd/husky cross puppy) while expensive was a good decision because now I always have a companion. I know he worries when I am alone.

“Beating yourself up about financial problems when you have bipolar is like a person with diabetes yelling at their pancreas for not making enough insulin.”

I want to find “Financial Harmony” 

Managing finances when dealing with bipolar disorder symptoms can be a major challenge. However, there are many tactics that can help you achieve financial security.

So here is my game plan.

  1. Credit cards are in a ziplock bag in my freezer.
  2. Delete any places where they are saved online (amazon, Old Navy, Lululemon)
  3. Call my EAP to see if they offer financial counselling
  4. Pay off my credit cards (I can do this in 12 months)
  5. Go to a cash system for purchases. Leave money in the account for my bills, and put aside 80.00 a month into savings
  6. Talk about it – share with my support network how it going
  7. Create a spread sheet with monthly purchases to make sure I am on track with my budget.
  8. Sell off things I don’t need or use.

I read this great quote on IG today from @tidymoose  “Look around. All that clutter used to be money.”

So less stuff, more moments.

Like the rest of my healing journey this won’t be easy and without bumps in the road. But I can do it.  Just like I’m doing it!  “A smooth Sea Never Made a Skilled Sailor”

 

Angry

I’ve had a dip and I feel a little bit like I’m losing ground. Mostly this dip is making me feel all sorts of angry.

I’m not a negative person. But negative thinking and self-talk are a by product of Bipolar Disorder and I’m learning to counteract them but keeping a wellness journal and reminding myself that in spite of everything I’m still a good person. But sometimes even when I have best intentions and even when I try all of my strategies I still feel angry.

Here’s why:

I’m angry at myself for going my entire life and not recognizing that what I just assumed was who I am was actually symptoms of bipolar disorder.

I’m angry at friends who have turned their backs on me. Sure what I’ve gone through, the choices I’ve made, the reactions I’ve displayed, the secrets I’ve kept are uncomfortable. They may challenge your values, you might even judge them. But here’s the thing why would you walk away from someone during their darkest hours? For the record judgement is just fear. So you’re not better than me but something about me elicits a fear response in yourself.

I’m angry because I can’t shake feeling angry, and being emotional even though I’ve been in a really good place since my hospital stay.

I’m angry because my medication increase happened on Friday and I’m not feeling calmer just tired and angry.

I’m angry because I cried on the phone when a friend called me and asked how I was doing and for one of the first times I wasn’t able to just put on a brave face and say “pretty good.”

I’m angry because in a heightened emotional moment this afternoon my travel coffee mug broke on the driveway… confession, I threw it on the ground because the actual mug when I picked it up triggered such strong physical response that I felt like I was going to be sick so I acted without thinking.

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I’m angry because I’m struggling with past choices. I want to just forgive myself, make peace with my past and move forward but I can’t.

I used my journal today to remind myself to breathe. To show myself compassion and self love and pray that tomorrow is a new day and I feel less angry.

 

 

 

Mother’s Day Guilt

Before I start, I want to put this out there.  This post could be triggering. If you have dealt with suicidal or self harming thoughts/actions or know someone who has. If you have lost your mom or a child or struggled with miscarriage/loss/infertility. Please stop, close this down and go about your day.

 

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I’ve had a hard week. My progress since my hospital stay, re-diagnoses with Bipolar Disorder, and medication switch has gone really well.  I’m off work, taking it easy. Exploring my creative side, learning to be grounded and working with professionals to help me do so. But that’s not to say there aren’t any challenges and this week has been one. My counselor even noted this week that the light-heartedness that I’ve been showing is dimmed. While it’s been a combination of a few things it comes from Mother’s Day just being around the corner.

Why would Mother’s Day have such a negative triggering effect on me?  I have two vibrant, loving children. I am a single parent but I’ve worked hard to create a safe, stable, warm home for them. Life with them is generally easy and simple and when we are together we just love each other. From warm Saturday morning snuggles in my bed, working on our new garden, going for long walks, park dates, baking and cooking. Generally our life is really good.

Behind the happy moments, I’m often struggling with my own battle with Bipolar Disorder. My kids make it easier to push through the tough moments, to keep going and work to get better but unfortunately in March I just couldn’t anymore. I ended up in the hospital after a suicide attempt. It’s hard for me to admit this and I am struggling with  the idea that it came to that even though I have so much to live for. I feel guilty that my two beautiful babies weren’t enough to keep me from going to that dark place.

So that’s where I am. How can I actually enjoy Mother’s Day after what I tried to do.

I am well aware of the stigma “how could she do that to her kids”, “but she has children”, “how could she give up and not see what she has”, “could she be anymore selfish”, “clearly she is just seeking attention”.  My heart goes out to those experiencing grief this time of year. Maybe you’ve lost your mother or a child. Maybe you don’t have a good relationship with them. Maybe you’ve struggled with infertility and loss. But here’s the tricky thing.  I didn’t do this to my kids, and I’m actually a really good mom.

It’s hard to explain it when I don’t really understand it myself. I fought the darkness for a long time. Even that day. I didn’t want to go home that night because I was alone and I was terrified of what was going to happen. I knew what was going to happen and I felt alone and afraid. My disorder caused this to happen.  This expert from an article by Katie Hurley, “There’s Nothing Selfish About Suicide” explains it really well and certainly applies to Bipolar Disorder.

Suicide is a decision made out of desperation, hopelessness, isolation and loneliness. The black hole that is clinical depression is all-consuming. Feeling like a burden to loved ones, feeling like there is no way out, feeling trapped and feeling isolated are all common among people who suffer from depression.

People who say that suicide is selfish always reference the survivors. It’s selfish to leave children, spouses and other family members behind, so they say. They’re not thinking about the survivors, or so they would have us believe. What they don’t know is that those very loved ones are the reason many people hang on for just one more day. They do think about the survivors, probably up until the very last moment in many cases. But the soul-crushing depression that envelops them leaves them feeling like there is no alternative. Like the only way to get out is to opt out. And that is a devastating thought to endure.

That night. I did think about my kids, my family, my friends. I thought how they would be better off without my constant ups and downs. The grand plans, the crash, the pushing away, the guilt, the asking for forgiveness… again and eventually yet again. I thought about how I ripped my children from a neighbourhood full of friends and though we were always welcome to return I struggled because it brought on extreme feelings of sadness and heightened paranoia made me feel like we weren’t welcome because we didn’t belong anymore. I was getting divorced and didn’t fit the image of a suburban two parent “perfect family”. I would be moving us into a small townhouse so no more vacations, promise of a pool, and all the the things that they had become accustomed to living their previous life. I thought about a life for my kids that didn’t include having to live split between 3 homes, how it could be simple for them again. How their dad could remarry and they could be once again part of a unbroken family. I thought about how in the future they wouldn’t have to be embarrassed of a mom struggling from mental illness. Or handle the disappointment of a promise made during a manic episode and then broken during a crash. Bipolar Disorder convinced me that my kids would be better off without me.

I know that this is not true. None of those. I know that I’m really doing my best and being a mom with Bipolar Disorder will always make it a little bit more difficult. But it doesn’t mean I don’t get to enjoy my time with my kids or be grateful that I’m still here. I get to enjoy Mother’s Day because I’m living and loving and celebrating it with those I love and love me too. And I’m really sorry if you don’t get to. My heart truly feels your sadness,  but it isn’t my fault that I survived. Having ill feelings toward me won’t actually reduce your pain.  I promise you I’m sending you extra light and love this weekend but I’m also going to send myself extra love and light and try to have a guilt free day.

I want to end this with something written by Mindy Morgan

I see you, Mama. You’re going to do this thing. You’re going to make it and your kids will be OK. By loving them with every fiber of your being, you will save them and yourself in the process.

We’ve got this.

Distance Between Friends

 

Self blame.  That’s a game that I am really good at. When things go wrong I take all the blame. I over analyze what went wrong, what I could have done to change things and what I am going to do to fix it. Often it comes in the form of a long written out justification/apology, baked goods, gifts,  flowers, coffee, sometimes even more elaborate and expensive gifts.

Why do I do that? Obviously a relationship is a tide. An ebb and flow. Sometimes one person needs a little more and the other person can offer that and sometimes it’s the reverse. It works the same in tough times. Sometimes one side demands a little more and the other side has more to give. Without keeping score, it always seems to balance out. I guess this is the key to a healthy relationship.

Sometimes though, the relationship isn’t healthy. One side demands a little too much and it cause the other side to break. Sometimes one side is really doing all the giving and the other side taking. Sometimes one side doesn’t make sense or is downright shocking.

Sometimes one side walks away when the other just really needed them to be there. To put aside their values, judgements and lack of understanding. They just needed them. It’s important to put yourself in their shoes. To reflect on their backpack so to speak of life experience. Where they have come from, their value systems, their insecurities and the internal and personal difficulties they are experiencing.  You never really know what is going on with a person.

It happens.

Distance between friends. It’s a thing. But I’m learning that it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Absence can make the heart grow fonder, we’ve heard that before. Or time heals all wounds that makes sense too.  But what if moving on, appreciating the past moments but recognizing that the future moments will never be the same or not even happen is ok too?  My sister recently told me friendship happens for “a reason, a season, or a lifetime.” I really loved this and it’s made me come to peace and feel settled with the idea of the distance between.

So rather than feeling sadness, anger and regret I feel light.  I am able to send people, even ones that I feel caused harm, warmth and light and then move about my day.

And I like that.

xo

 

 

May The Fourth – 2 Years Apart

May the Fourth, Star Wars day.  Always a fun day in my home for William and I since we are fans.  Admittedly I love it even more because how much William does.

Facebook memories showed me the photo on the top left this morning from 2 years ago.  The bottom right picture is from today. Not that long ago I would have looked at the old photo and looked at myself now and be upset that I was much thinner then.  I would have tried the shirt on today and immediately remove it in disgust. It would have ruined my day.  I would have been emotional, short with family and friends.  I probably wouldn’t have eaten very much and worked out a ton. I probably would have researched diet options and developed an intense calorie restricted plan. But today I didn’t. Today I proudly wore my same shirt, took a silly photo to represent the joy I am starting to feel.

I did compare the two photos. Blonde hair, bold glasses, and smile.  The girl in the top photo.  She wasn’t actually happy. Things internally, emotionally and in her world were escalating and spiraling out of control.  Control. Control made her feel like life made sense. As she was starting to feel out of control she learned to find it by striving for perfection. She had lost a significant amount of weight but kept losing because she felt that it would make her happy,  desirable. It would make people want to be around her and love her . As mentioned before her greatest fear is the fear of being alone.

The girl in the bottom photo is about 15 lbs heavier but she doesn’t care. Or at least she tries not to care. She’s learning that people don’t love her because of her hair colour, or size or what she puts on even though she had been made to feel that was important. She sees that people don’t love her because she’s perfect, but rather because she’s not. They love love love her because she’s quirky.  She’s mischievous and full of spark. They love her because she’s fiercely loyal and values their presence in her life.

Today’s theme was really about reflection. Reflection is so important. It’s not the same thing as dwelling on the past. Rather it’s taking inventory on where you were and where you are in this moment and where you want to go. I have to say I like where things are going.

 

May is Mental Health Month

This is a mixed viewpoint for me. While I like that there is an entire month dedicated to speaking up, sharing stories and awareness for Mental Health, I worry that for the rest of the year we become complacent because we put our time in during that one month. It’s how I feel about Bell Let’s Talk day, Day of Pink, Red for World Autism Day, White Ribbons for ending violence against women. The list goes on as you know. It’s amazing that we are being supportive but what about the rest of the days – are you thinking about it or going on about your busy life?  Obviously you are going to align yourself with causes that have a personal impact. But the fact that mental illness affects 1 in 4 people – chances are it has a personal impact.

For the most part I have a very supportive community. My village is strong, loving, empathetic and if they don’t get what i’m going through they try to understand it. The fact that so many of you are reading and commenting on my posts is evidence of the support you show me everyday. And I want to thank you because it gives me the courage to continue to speak and share and to feel brave and not ashamed of what I’ve gone through.

Today, my family doctor told me that my story is mine. And I get to share it and write it how I want.  It doesn’t have to be a story of falling apart, of coming to the brink and failing. But rather it can be a story of struggle, vulnerability, and strength. I like that.

So May is Mental Health Month. I saw something online that said 1 in 4 people battle a mental illness, you can be the 1 that helps.  I love that. Start a conversation. Share on your social media. If you don’t understand something, or have questions then ask. I’d rather people ask me about the things I’ve gone through that may seem confusing then shut me out, horrified and shocked about what happened.

For the record. I’m going to keep sharing, and educating and learning. It’s really part of my personal journey and success and I hope it can help others as well.

Home Sweet Home – 1 Year Later

One year ago today I took possession of my house. It was a bittersweet day. Yes I was excited to start the next part of my journey. Yes I was proud of myself for finally being able to purchase a home for myself. But I was sad to leave my old home. My marriage had ended 8 months before and the house, the neighbourhood was the last grip on everything I had known. It was a security net for me because I was terrified to go my own way alone.

I have always been good at hiding. On the outside my house was immaculate, the kids were always put together, my hair and nails done. I organized and hosted parties where details and loving touches were always in the spotlight. I was able to shine in social situations, laugh at the jokes, contribute to the shenanigans like climbing fences to retrieve stray nerf bullets or late night swims in neighbours pools. In the inside I was a struggling to hold it together. I had lost a lot of weight – 70 lbs intentionally because I thought that would bring me the joy that was lacking on the inside. I won’t lie it did feel great for a while. I felt unstoppable – and I did things, acted in ways that now I regret. But looking back that was definitely a pattern in my life. What I know now is it was just part of the cycle – the weight loss, the extreme attention to detail, the life of the party behaviour, extreme training for my half marathon, a manic episode. Which was always followed by a crash, a depressive episode. But I was good at hiding it. I’d stay inside and “clean” while my ex took the kids outside and interacted with our neighbours. In between folding loads of laundry and scrubbing bathroom floors the tears would stream down my face.  Once, we had our neighbours over but I stayed in my room. I had my ex tell them I wasn’t feeling well. I sat in my bed in tears because I didn’t want to be missing out but I just couldn’t bring myself to join.

I was good at hiding. Some people in my life feel that this has made me a liar, like I hid from them who I was like they never really knew me at all.  This isn’t exactly true. It’s hard to explain what you are hiding when you don’t really understand what’s going on yourself.  When you are afraid that opening up means your whole life will drastically change. It’s hard to open up when you don’t even know yet the vocabulary for a very real medical issue. It’s easy to hide when the things you are hiding will bring judgement or likely a fear of judgement. It’s easy to hide when when you feel like the only reason people want you around is because you are fun and they don’t actually care about the struggles you are going through.  I know now that for the most part this was a perceived fear.

When my marriage ended, I didn’t return to work. I stayed off in order to pick up my broken pieces and stabilize life for me and my children. My daughter, just about 8, who was so strong through all of it said to me, “mommy I just don’t want to change school.” So I fought very hard to make that happen. I found the perfect townhouse, It was really close to my old neighbourhood. A quick 2 minutes. It would have worked out to be a private sale to me it seemed like the stars aligned especially since I had just sold my house in a private sale.

For several reasons, it didn’t work out. Part of that reason was my own fault. For not being confident and strong to make my own decisions. But at the same time I do feel like things happen as they should and if that house was meant for me I would be living in it now.

I would be involved in several bidding wars and each time I lost a little piece of me crumbled. I started to worry that I wouldn’t be able to stay in the kids school zone – the only thing my daughter wished. She would have been fine if we had to move elsewhere, we all would have been but my heart told me I needed to make this happen.

I decided to switch Real Estate Agents. That was a hard decision because my previous agent had helped me purchase/sell my previous homes and disappointing people wasn’t something  I was ever good at. But I decided to make a hard decision for myself and I switched. The agent I decided to work with was someone I had met a few years before, we had played baseball together and she lived/worked in the area I wanted to stay in. Everything that happen in life isn’t an accident. Sometimes things that happen seem insignificant or don’t make sense at the time but it’s all a series of doors closing and door opening, paths being chosen to lead you to moments that clarity happens. I don’t think being placed on the same baseball team as Lori was an accident because within days of signing on to work with her she called me with a house that was just listed, that didn’t have the for sale sign up  yet and before that even happened I had in a offer, a counter offer and an acceptance and the home was mine.  Lori got me through a really difficult time – she offered words of support and comfort that I always go back to. I’m not sure she really realizes the difference she made for me.

Move in day was the rainiest day pretty much the worst day to move. The rain held in my tears. I was proud and scared because this was the official start of my reset. It hasn’t always gone well. I’ve had some unexpected setbacks but also a tremendous amount of growth.  It’s taken me a year to fully appreciate and understand the strength and resilience that I have shown, not only this year but my whole life.

Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned is life is not black and white and I have no room in my life for people that are black and white thinkers. You don’t have to forget about the past and move on. The past is a very real part of what has brought us to this moment. The past is lessons, life and memories. I’ve learned that you can be grateful and excited about things that are going on but also be really sad and grieve the things and people that you have lost. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. “Life is about change. Sometimes it’s painful. Sometimes it’s beautiful. But most of the time, it’s both.” – Lana Lang.

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