Here I am, writing at 11:56pm on a Monday evening.
If you’re like…”Hey, this looks different”, you’d be right. My brain decided that I didn’t like how busy this blog looked, so a total revamp happened.
It is nights like these, the ones where my brain is in overdrive, that I wish would stop.
In the few minutes it has taken me to write this post, I have overthought every previous post I have written so far. Because…REASONS (not sure what yet, but my brain WILL come up with some, of that I can be certain).
Thankfully, my fiance is still downstairs. He has no idea what I have been up to (yet).
I have the heebie jeebies. I cannot sit still and I want to crawl out of my own skin.
It is like a hamster’s horror movie, where they are on the running wheel and they keep running faster and faster…but can’t get off, and they know they will probably die here.
My favourite piece of advise during these times is: “relax”.
Late Breaking News: I CAN’T.
I am stuck in flight or fight – with no way out.
I will eventually go back downstairs, and my fiance will make me a cup of tea and we will talk about why my brain is on fire.
It’s suffocating, and frustrating. I just wanted to come up to bed and go to sleep. I mean, I am yawning as I sit here.
There has been too much going on…everything all at once and I can’t seem to totally shut things off.
It is like my body feels guilty for attempting to relax.
I have been in freeze for so long. Is this the release? And my whole psyche can’t handle it?
Whatever it is, I need to go downstairs and unload.
The gut reaction to say what you really want is something you learn to subdue over time.
After years of managing people and processes, I’ve learned that pausing before I speak is essential. When challenged, the first instinct is to defend — it’s human nature. Reacting without hesitation rarely produced the results I needed. I used to feel I had to respond immediately to questions, emails, and phone calls.
A career coach taught me I don’t have to answer in the moment. Pausing resets your brain and lets you process what’s being asked or receive feedback constructively. You won’t always get feedback delivered kindly. That’s when the pause matters most. You may be catching someone in their worst moment; it’s not always about you, and it’s not the time for a snarky comeback.
Living with a mental illness makes this especially hard. I tend to take things personally. Through coaching and therapy I’ve learned compassion — for myself and for others.
Staying calm in stressful moments is difficult, especially when the work being criticized is something you’ve poured yourself into. It’s your baby, your work in progress, and you’ve worked hard on it. I now try to parse feedback and see it from the other person’s perspective. What am I missing? What could be done differently or more efficiently?
What I’ve learned is this: don’t try to be the smartest person in the room. Collaboration and growth depends on it. I’m always learning and expanding my skills; teaching others comes next. Surrounding yourself with people who challenge you is top tier.
So the next time you feel under attack and want to say, “What the fuck were you thinking?” — pause.
Some days are easier than others, but sometimes the smallest of tasks requires a herculean effort: getting out of bed, showering, brushing my teeth, and even deciding what to wear.
My brain fights against logic and reason.
For example: my first thought and/or reaction to any conflict or constructive criticism is THE BIG BAD.
They hate me. I am stupid. I can’t do this job. Will I ever get ANYTHING right?
Would you know this by looking at me? Absolutely not.
I’m “happy”, “energetic”, “outgoing”.
I’m good at masking, and I have been since childhood. A “high functioning depression” human.
Could I unmask? Sure.
It did happen, not by my own choice, when I had my mental breakdown in 2011.
My body took over. I hurt, physically. I slowly slipped into a broken mess. My compartmentalism blew back in my face.
No longer could I say that I was “fine”.
I have been extremely lucky to have had my family doctor since my early 20s. She delivered my daughter, and was there as I went through my tumultuous separation.
The day I made the appointment was not an easy one. What was I going to say?
Turns out I didn’t have to say anything. When she asked me what brought me in, I fell apart. She grabbed a box of Kleenex, pulled her chair up to mine.
She looked at me and said “You’re done pushing through”.
I was put off, and seen weekly.
My daughter was in junior high. I told her the doctor said I needed time off “to rest”.
I got up every morning and when she left to walk to school, I got back into bed.
I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was angry, frustrated, and was short with those who reached out to me.
You see, depression isn’t necessarily “sadness”. It’s an overload of powerlessness, fear, anger, exasperation, anguish (add your experience here).
It took me weeks to be able to function. Weeks for the medicine to begin to correct the chemical imbalance.
The amount of times I heard how “physical activity” would “cure” my depression was unreal, because here’s the thing, I was in the best physical shape of my life when this illness brought me to my knees. I ran my first 10k weeks before my breakdown.
Mental illness is not just mental. As I have said, it affects you physically. You seize up, you hurt, and it takes time to regain the energy level you had previously been used to.
With medication and support, I was able to go back to work.
I have trialed coming off my medication a couple of times, which did not end well.
For a time, I was on low dose antipsychotics to help with my anxiety (I was chewing the skin around my fingernails).
I have been on Ativan.
I am currently on a different antidepressant than the one I was prescribed all those years ago. It has kept me stable.
What has also helped is the support I have at home, and those of my colleagues.
I have been transparent about my illness. I know that there are others who cannot be, for reasons that are their own.
I guess want people to know that there are those of us out there who struggle daily, even though is not outwardly apparent.
We are overachievers.
We are people pleasers.
We find it hard to ask for help.
If you do catch us unmasked, sit with us. We may not need conversation.
Sometimes, just knowing that someone is THERE makes a difference.
I often wonder if I had had someone say “Hey, I’ve noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately. Is there anything I can do to help? Anything you wanted to share?” how I would have responded.
It’s easy for me to respond “Fine”, “Great”, “Okay” to a general “How are you doing?”
It is harder for me skirt around a more direct question. And, this may not work for everyone. You may get a “No, all is good”. The thing is that the effort may be noticed. It may shift a mindset.
I am hope that by sharing a small bit of my experience, that we can all take a moment to “see” people in those vulnerable moments.
To notice that person sitting alone.
To notice the misplaced anger.
To reach out.
When mental illness shows up at work, at home, people often retreat into silence – both the person struggling and the people around them. Being noticed matters. A small gesture of care, a quiet check in, a moment of presence can make someone feel less invisible.
Human connection doesn’t solve the struggle, but it often softens the edges.
The badge of honour we place on how “busy” we are.
I have worn that badge many times. I have burnt myself OUT multiple times, to my detriment.
When I was younger I worked “harder”. Not always because I felt like I had to prove something, but because I was a single mother. I had another human depending on me.
In a recent therapy session, we discussed the “white knuckling” of the “9-5”.
I have been working on boundaries for a few years now. I have tendency to ALWAYS go above and beyond, all the while ignoring my own needs.
Hyper focusing on the task in front of me.
Demanding perfection and nothing less.
Boundaries are helping me work smarter. Learning to say no when it matters is making a big difference.
I can hear some of you now: “What about the client(s)? Do they not deserve our full attention and our best effort?”
They absolutely do.
Here’s the thing: If I overcommit myself, I am then attempting to “multitask”. This means I am not able to commit the time I need to each project. This means that I NOT giving the client(s) my best effort. This ensures that mistakes will be made.
My therapist asked me this simple question when I described my need to overperform: “What if you tried softer? What would that look like for you?”
That forced me to sit in something uncomfortable.
My need to please overshadowed all. My worth has been tied up in how I am perceived.
Trying softer for me means setting AND enforcing my boundaries. Those boundaries have consequences. They need to be reinforced.
That may not sound “soft”. It IS however necessary.
Every time I’ve pushed myself past what I can reasonably hold, the fallout has been predictable: rushed work, short patience and a version of myself that I don’t particularly like. There’s nothing noble about it. Nothing heroic.
I’m learning to stop before I hit that point – not because I am “fragile” or I cannot “handle it”, but because I want to be present, thoughtful, and human in the places that matter.
This means a win for everyone: my colleagues, clients, and family.
For me, the days of working “harder” are shifting.
I am honouring my actual capacity.
It’s not glamourous, but it’s honest.
I have “white-knuckled” my way through more workdays than I can count, believing that “grit” was the same thing as purpose.
It never was, and that era is over.
Midlife has given me the nerve to loosen my grip and walk toward something that feels like mine – not something I have survive.
I ask myself this often. Sometimes because I doubt my abilities. Other times because I’m frustrated.
Imposter Syndrome is a beast.
Everyone has experienced it.
I do wonder sometimes – does my depression and anxiety amplify it? I ask that because it is all consuming when it does ramp up.
The times I do not doubt myself, the times I do forge ahead with a decision, I feel great…for a while.
Then it starts: do I really know what I am talking about? Who do I think I am?
Well….
I’m educated and experienced in both of my fields: Paralegal and Information Technology.
Why does my brain attempt to tell me otherwise?
Here’s what I know from experience, and why it matters.
I know that the majority of the time (for me) it is fear that is showing up. My inner saboteur (what’s up Carl..yes, I named that voice) is trying to protect me from something.
It could be something as “small” as embarrassment, or something as “big” as failure.
And if I do fail? I learn something.
In that moment of failure there is anger, frustration, you may get yelled at, and if it’s extreme enough you may get fired.
I think it is in the aftermath that we should take time to try and breathe. Ask yourself the question: what have I learned?
I own my mistakes. That’s important AND step one to moving forward.
Another big thing: if you do not know the answer or solution in that moment, say so and commit to finding out.
We all know that not everything goes the way it should.
Sometimes I go down the rabbit hole of “what is the worse case scenario?”
Then I live there. Not ideal, because you miss out on the “what if everything goes well?”.
I have been very lucky to work with some great people, both colleagues and leaders, who have given me their insights, allowed me to lead them, learn, and who have also told me to stop underestimating myself (you know who you are).
These folks are aware of all of it. They have also experienced the same self doubt, and the overthinking.
In recent conversations, while mulling ideas over, I was reminded by a few friends that I DO have the knowledge and experience.
Sometimes, it’s the simplest phrase in a conversation that confirms that you know what you’re doing, you’ve been doing it for years.
I know how I got here.
I have worked hard over the 20 plus (you’re not getting the actual time, that would date me, lol) years in these fields, and I do deserve to take up this space.
You have worked hard.
You have earned a spot at the table.
Remember that, even when your brain tells you otherwise.
If you’ve landed here, you’re likely a leader, an aspiring leader, or someone who cares about growth—the messy, honest kind. So, I figured the best way to start this blog is by sharing a little bit about where I come from and why leadership (and how we develop it) matters so deeply to me.
Sitting here now, I am quite confident that I was destined to learn things the hard way.
I’m the eldest daughter, with one younger brother—no trailblazer ahead of me to show me how to navigate life at my level. I had to carve out that path myself.
We were military brats, which meant adapting wasn’t a skill we learned; it was a way of living.
And on top of that, I was a shy child. A people pleaser. Someone who never wanted to disappoint anyone. I paid close attention to everyone else’s needs long before I ever considered my own (do not worry friends—therapy has helped me unpack a lot of that).
For most of my life, it felt like when presented with two simple choices, I’d somehow pick the more difficult one.
Did I learn? Absolutely. Did it cost me? One hundred percent.
Motherhood changed everything. It gave me a voice I didn’t know I had. Eight months in, I left a disastrous marriage and began parenting on my own—fully aware that every decision I made carried real weight.
Around the same time, I was navigating a career path that often felt like “the wheels were coming off of ’er” (if you know, you know). I went back to school with a toddler in daycare to earn another diploma—encouraged by someone who recognized my potential long before I did.
Fast forward to today: a woman in legal tech, working in a space where I had to prove myself. Supporting people who were, in many ways, earlier versions of me—busy professionals balancing expectations, pressure, and not nearly enough time.
It wasn’t easy. But the more I shared my lived experiences, the more I was accepted.
I “got it.”
Still, I kept myself small.
That inner critic—loud, untrained, unexamined—didn’t serve me well. I felt I had to dig deeper, bring “receipts,” and constantly go the extra mile to prove my worth.
I know now this story isn’t unique. Many leaders, especially those who grew up as the “responsible one,” the “adapter,” the “people pleaser,” walk a similar path.
This blog is my way of pulling back the curtain.
Here, I’ll talk openly about:
the real lived experience behind leadership
the messy parts of growth
the moments where resilience is built quietly
and the ways we can lead with compassion—starting with ourselves
If any part of my story resonates, you’re in the right place.
Over the past few years my interest in reading has been spotty, as well as my interest in crochet.
I’m starting to get that interest back, and I am not forcing things.
Sunday mornings will be for reading, as it is a nice slow start to the day as the work week looms ahead.
Depression is a funny thing. I no longer fight it. I have been riding the wave, especially with perimenopause.
HRT has definitely made things manageable. It has been a godsend.
The psoriasis on the outside of my ears has moved inside, which has made me want to tear the inside out. I have been putting my Dovabet in there and it has been helping.
The HRT has more or less stopped my hot hot flashes and night sweats. Win!
We are growing tomatoes on the balcony, along with some blueberries. This is helping with my depression as well, looking after something that will produce food!
It has been hard doing that this year, as well are having extremely dry conditions. I have been using bottled water to keep them going.
Thinking about planting some herbs next year.
Not wishing away the summer, but I am looking forward to the fall. It is my favourite season.
For now, I will continue to hope that we get some rain and enjoy the rest of the summer.
I have had two weeks of vacation, which were sorely needed.
My first week was a complete wind down.
I took my peeps out to Peggy’s Cove to at least get off the balcony for one day….
One of the views from Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse
My daughter and I got matching tattoos. Ponyo!
Astrid does amazing work!!
We headed to the beach on the second week…temps in the city were close to 30 celsius and there was humidity, which meant melting on the balcony was not an option!
Hubbards BeachCatching some rays
Back in June, I was able to snag a reservation for a glamping dome down in the Annapolis Valley. What a quiet, relaxing little spot. We grabbed some food from The Noodle Guy (delish) and some local wine from Luckett Vineyards.
You can almost drive by….so take it slowWe hung out while waiting for our orderLuckett Vineyards are absolutely beautiful….I picked up a bottle of Tidal Bay and a couple of spritzers
Valley Sky is a MUST, and we are already planning a fall visit. Check it out!
I added a charcuterie board to our stay. Local eats!And I turned the temperature down for a soak in the hot tub! (It was 38 celsius with the humidity, blargh!)
We stayed in the Tidal Dome. The bed was super cozy, the lounge chairs with ottomans were soooo comfortable, and all the amenities made for a great stay. I was kind of sad when we had to pack up the next morning!!
So serene, and so many birds to listen to!My first cup of the day…
On the way home, we popped into Just Us Coffee for some fuel….and I needed a latte, haha.
Vanilla Latte…. Deeeeelicious
Now I am turning the corner to start getting ready for Back To Work on Tuesday (Monday is the Natal Day Holiday here).
While I am sad to be coming to the end of my vacation, I had some good times. I got a lot of rest.
Here I am, hoping that I am on the path to burnout recovery.
I’m getting some energy back, and I don’t want to hide from everyone all the time (only about 85% of the time, lol).
I’m still on hormone replacement therapy…pills and gel because the patch is not available and always on back order. I am certain that this has been holding me together.
I have fully embraced my “fuck it” era. I say what needs to said now.
Therapy helps, a lot.
I’m also planning for an event for next fall, and this is sparking up my creative brain. I am a planner, so diving into something has been refreshing.
Vacation is coming up soon. I see beach time in my future and I’ve booked an overnight in a glamping dome.
I’m using those two weeks to recharge and recover.
A lot of things are changing, and most of them are for the good.
This is a short and sweet check in.
I’m currently on my balcony relaxing, and I hope you are finding the time to unwind and breathe.
I was not in recovery. It was a facade I had willingly accepted because I needed to be okay. I needed to NOT be in burnout. The fatigue is still there. My motivation, gone. I want to sleep…ALL THE TIME. It takes everything in me to get up and get going. I just DON’T WANT TO.
I have been here before.
I would rather not be here.
I tend to hermit in these conditions. Isolation is my solace.
I don’t have the energy most days to connect. I want to come home after work and sleep.
This isn’t good for anyone.
I honestly do not know where to start. How do I turn this around? Can I turn this around?
Can I survive this, again?
I ponder this every morning. Can I conjure up a plan that will work?
I’m surrounded by people I love at home. They help me as much as they can. But there are things that only I can do.
So I need to start writing things out. Feelings, thoughts, ideas.
Maybe then I can navigate this world I am in.
This post is not exactly uplifting, but I’ve always been real about where I am when I write.
So until I dig out, it’s not going to be good times. There may be a glimmer of good every now and then, so if you can be patient as I navigate these bends in the road, I would like to share those glimmers as well.
Take care of yourselves. Don’t get too encompassed by the news. Disconnect every now and then.
I’m off to bed, hopefully get a good sleep, and start again tomorrow.
The Midlife Reframe 