The Midlife Reframe

Tag: mental-health

  • So Done

    Full of fatigue.

    Lacking motivation.

    Fighting my depression.

    Navigating this pandemic.

    I’m so done. Done with feeling like I can’t do anything about how I’m feeling.

    I go in circles. A time where I’m feeling good and think I have everything under some semblance of control. I can handle a lot of things I cannot during a period of depression. I thrive during these times. Then comes the depression and I don’t trust myself, my decisions, or my thought process. Everything I do is wrong.

    This pandemic has made my depression periods more frequent, but in brief spurts and they hit me like truck. My circles become more chaotic and the times between my thrive and slump get shorter. I’m fighting against a strong undertow and it exhausts me.

    I know this is drilled down to exceptional circumstances. I know this pandemic is affecting me in ways I can’t control. I’m facing this every day, this lack of control.

    I try and step back, to see what is the underlying fear, and how can I work with that to move forward. It’s not easy, and sometimes there is no working with it. It is fear, and I need to feel it.

    I recently found out I was at a COVID exposure site, and had to self isolate while waiting to get a test and the results. I was scared the whole time. One trip to pick up my lunch may have landed me in viral swamp, putting others at risk as well.

    During that time, I couldn’t run. My coping mechanism was off limits. There were other ways of working out, but running lets me unwind in a different way. I may not be as fast as I used to be, but the ability to lace up is still my number one way to solve the overthinking brain.

    Thankfully my test results were negative and I could het back to “normal”.

    I am also lucky that I was able to book my vaccine, and I go in 10 days.

    I am very lucky, and I acknowledge that.

    I am just done with all of it. The pandemic, the damage and heartache it has caused, the fighting with my mental illness, watching people disrespect public health orders, all of it.

    I am done.

    But I will live to fight another day.

    I am lucky. So many others are not.

    I wish you love, health, and happiness.

    Stay safe.

  • Covid, Peri menopause, and Jeans

    So, some of us have gained weight during Covid (all that home made bread and bagels). Some of us have gained weight thanks to the lovely stage of life called peri menopause.

    I fall mostly into the second category. My love for bread doesn’t help, mind you.

    This makes my struggle with mental illness all the more complicated. I was awful before, but now? I’m the Michelin Man with a broken brain who can’t find jeans to fit her properly.

    Now, don’t get me wrong. I am happy with my body. It’s still strong and amazingly awesome. But Old Navy took my curvy fit jeans away and I have been having a hell of a time finding jeans to fit my size 14 ass well.

    After many purchases at other places, I settled on a store.

    I have a few pairs that I wear, and have been on the search for “jeans that Amy is comfortable in that don’t cut her stomach in half”. If you can rock the low rise, do it girl. My body needs the all encompassing power of high rise so I don’t feel like a busted can of biscuits.

    After many purchases at many stores, I found myself at American Eagle.

    They have High Waisted Jeggings.

    I tried on other pairs, but the jeggings were it.

    I think my body can rest easy in jeggings.

    TAKE THAT PERI MENOPAUSE AND BAGELS!

    But for real, I just want jeans I can feel comfortable in, is that too much to ask? Women deserve comfy jeans. Period.

    My mental health needs this.

    If I can feel good in my clothes, it’s a big win.

    Feeling good is important.

    I already feel crappy enough most days.

    THESE JEGGINGS ROCK. Now I must have them all. Thank you American Eagle for making jeans that make me feel good about myself.

    Now, I am on the hunt for Blazers. That’s a whole different, and painful, search.

    Here’s to loving our bodies. Here’s to loving the clothes that make us feel amazing.

    Here is to telling my depression to fuck off and rock my curvy ass self in whatever I choose to wear.

    Now I’m tired from all the excitement. I need pasta and a nap.

    Until next time…

  • Self Love? How About Self Acceptance

    I’ve read and heard enough about self love lately. I’m on another path right now.

    I’ve also overcome the thoughts that I am not good enough to be loved. I am not only good enough, but worthy.

    What has been important to me this past year has been self acceptance. Accepting not only who I am, but accepting everything that comes along with that.

    I have been on a roller coaster ride with my mental illness for almost 10 years. Fighting against it, and exhausting myself.

    I’ve stopped fighting it, and am learning to manoeuvre the curves. It’s a part of who I am, and learning to work with it has been eye opening.

    As I’ve said recently, I am also accepting my past, all of the good and the bad. The experiences throughout my life have shaped me into who I am today. Have I been through a lot? Yes. Have I been hurt physically and mentally? Yes.

    Resilience? Got that, in spades.

    Confronting all of the things has not been easy. The desire to fight against everything is strong. It’s in my nature to make things right, to push against that which is trying to “get at me”. Feeling my feelings is challenging, but necessary. Acknowledging them is a must.

    Self love? I’ve got lots of that.

    Self acceptance? That is a work in progress.

  • Changes

    “I’m going through changes”. Ozzy Osbourne

    This week I uncovered some of my lost soul. The part I lost through my toxic marriage. I found my love of learning, my love of self discovery, and my desire to move forward.

    I have started reaching out to the universe. I have decided that I WANT to be seen. I am going to stop using certain words that will limit my self growth. I have learned that self protection is holding me back.

    This is a lot, and I know that with my mental illness it won’t always be easy to put myself out there, but I am going to try my hardest to be the woman I know is inside.

    I am reclaiming my power. The power I lost when I let someone take it from me. I let someone dictate who I was, how I looked, and what I did. I reclaimed a bit of it when I left that toxic relationship with my then infant daughter, but I never fully owned it again.

    I am owning it now.

    Recent events have made me realize just how resilient I am.

    Moving forward means shedding some skin, which will be uncomfortable. Growth is uncomfortable, but I am willing to take the risk.

    Am I scared? You’re fucking right I am.

    If I wasn’t scared it wouldn’t be real.

    One foot in front of the other.

    Here I go.

  • I Just Don’t Know Anymore

    I have had to stop asking myself “What will today bring?”

    The past few months have had it’s bad, and it’s good.

    The world is still in a pandemic and my neighbours to the South are imploding.

    I am glad the big orange cheeto is on his way out the door, but holy moly guys. I mean, I am not saying that couldn’t happen here, because it sure as well could. The world is just becoming freaking scary.

    Every day brings with it more of the unknown, and I already have a problem with my OWN unknown. If I could sleep through all of it and wake up on the other side I probably would. But, I can’t, so I maneuver my daily mental illness around whatever the chaos de jour is and hope I don’t implode.

    I am trying yoga again, and hoping that leads to running more consistently. My flexibility and balance need a lot of work. I am pretty tight, so keeping up with the yoga WHILE I am consistently running will be key. I just need to keep moving to relieve my stress and anxiety.

    Sleep? Now there is an area I do not have a problem in right now. My depression keeps me sleeping like a log. I guess I am thankful for that, because if I didn’t have my sleep it would not be good.

    I know I usually do a post ushering out the old year and one post ushering in the new, but the whole pandemic and what not have really frigged with my brain this year and I just couldn’t.

    I am not on the negative train here. I am just so overwhelmed and out of whack with all the turmoil that I am guarding all my joy. I am keeping it tucked away and peek at it when I really need it.

    I will be sharing some joy, I promise. It’s just going to take a while for me to let my guard down.

    Hang on. We can get through all of this.

    Just, hang on.

    Breathe.

  • The Cold, The Covid Test, and My Anxiety

    This week was a little stressful.

    I woke up on Monday morning with a chest cold and a cough.

    I took the online Covid assessment of my local health authority and was advised to get tested for Covid.

    I booked my test online and was lucky to get an appointment that morning, within 2 hours of the assessment.

    I told my daughter, which was a little scary, and get myself ready to go.

    I got to the assessment centre and checked in. I was assigned a number and given a socially distanced seat to sit in. I was registered and into the testing pod in 5 minutes. The health practitioner who was going to administer my test was very nice, explained the test and showed me the swab. The swab was teeny, so I relaxed a bit. He then made a joke about amnesia and we had a good laugh. It definitely broke the tension.

    The test took about 3 seconds. It was a little uncomfortable, but not as bad as I thought.

    I was told it could take up to 3 days for my results. I was let go and followed the path out, sanitized my hands and went back out to my car.

    I read the pamphlet I was given on self isolation and went directly home. I had to avoid common areas and choose which bathroom to use until my results came in.

    Luckily, my home office is in my bedroom, and I hunkered down to work. (My daughter got ready and went to work as well. She works retail, so she checked in to make sure she was okay to go in, and away she went.)

    It was very hard to focus while I was waiting for my results. I had supper delivered to my room by my daughter and had to announce every time I left my room.

    I slept, which was surprising.

    When I woke up Tuesday, the first thing I did was check my email. My results were in!

    I logged in with my health card. The results were NEGATIVE.

    I was so happy. I let my family members know and

    I immediately sent an email to work to let them know and to advise I would work from home until I was better.

    My self isolation was short lived, but I still had the stinking cold.

    Thankful that is wasn’t Covid, I worked from home (with some time off to get rest) for the rest of the week.

    Then, the cases started to rise and the places of possible exposures started to increase.

    My anxieties were on the rise again, and the thought of going back into lockdown ate at me. My psoriasis got worse. I started chewing the skin around my nails again. Sigh.

    I live in the Atlantic Bubble. We’ve done so good up until now. Our mandatory masking and the travel only within our 4 provinces seemed to keep us safely wrapped in a low cases blanket. Our restrictions in my area have been tightened up for the next 4 weeks to see if we can get things under control. If not, I fear we’ll be back into another lockdown around Christmas.

    For now, I am going out only when I need to and follow the public health protocols to keep those around me safe.

    For now, I’ll keep myself busy with crocheting and housework to slow the anxieties.

    For now, I’ll hope for a Covid free Christmas.

    For now, I’ll hope you’ll all stay safe and healthy.

    Take care of yourselves my friends.

  • And For Now, I’m Okay

    So, I am coming out of a depressive episode.

    Basically, I am telling my depression to go fuck itself right now.

    This is like a fog lifting, or a weight being taken off my shoulders.

    I feel more “normal”, more like myself. I don’t experience imposter syndrome. My self doubt takes a back seat.

    It feels good. It feels liberating.

    I will hold onto these feelings for as long as I can, because I never know when the other shoe will drop.

    Usually, I would feel extremely guilty for feeling this way, especially if I know of others who are suffering their own depressive episode while I am riding the “happy” wave.

    I’ve learned that I NEED to savour this time, because it’s for me. It’s ME time. It’s also time to be there for those who have been there for me when I was festering in the suck hole of depression.

    So, if you need an ear, hit me up. I’ll listen, I won’t divert to my own experiences, and I can give great virtual hugs.

    We have to support each other when we can.

    We have to look out for each other.

    We have to remember that it won’t always be awful, and there will be good times for us.

    So, for now, I’m okay.

    And that, for now, is a good thing.

    Until the next depressive episode, I remain on the “happy” wave.

    (Let’s hope that doesn’t happen anytime soon, because I kind of need this right now, lol.)

    Keep fighting the battle within.

    I’m right there beside you.

  • I Never Thought It Would Be This Way

    I never thought that my smile would hide the demons inside of me.

    That I would fight daily to keep myself from falling apart.

    That I could be so tired.

    That my body could hurt without injury.

    That my darkest days would be when I was raising a daughter. I remember when I finally told her what was wrong. She was so understanding at such a young age. Who knew she would later experience similar demons.

    That what society makes out to be “living your best life” isn’t really living your best life. Having it all can be just as overwhelming as not having enough.

    That getting help was what pulled me out of the rabbit hole. I realized that I could no longer get through this alone.

    That drugs (not running, or exercise, or “changing my mindset”) was what helped my brain. Does running help? Yes, it helps me cope, but it doesn’t cure my mental illness.

    That people I thought were there for me, were not. That I had to make peace with that. I finally knew who my people were. They stuck with me through my depression.

    That I would accept myself as I am, no matter what. That has taken me YEARS. I never thought I was good enough. Now I know different. Do I still have self doubt? Fuck, yes. But I know who I am, and what I am truly capable of. I try and remind myself of that on my bad days.

    That I would come to terms with daughter being diagnosed with a mental illness. I blamed myself, as I have said before. I was pretty sure I gave it to her. Like through her breathing my mentally ill air,or something. Once I battled that demon, I was able to be there for her.

    That I would see my mental illness as a pro, and not a con. I see things differently than other people. I can give a different perspective. I can offer insight.

    Anyone can have mental illness: youth, women, men. It doesn’t discriminate.

    Reminding myself daily that I didn’t choose this is what gets me through. Other days it’s also something small, like a song or a line from a book.

    I just have to remember to keep looking forward, because looking back is not good for me.

    That is when I falter. That is when I need my strength, because I never thought it would be this way.

    I never thought I would be mentally ill.

  • I Will Not Be Silent

    I had lunch with a good friend today, the other co-founder of Road Warriors, Shannon (check out our website here: https://battlewithin.ca/).

    During our conversation we talked about the stigma still associated around mental health, and speaking out about our struggles. It still makes people uncomfortable. They don’t know what to say, or how to act around us when we’re in a bad place.

    Here’s the thing. Without other people sharing their stories, their feelings, and their innermost demons, I would have not found the courage to speak out myself.

    Hearing that other people were in the same struggle as me, was a comfort. Knowing that I was not alone was a really big deal.

    Becoming “comfortable” with acknowledging my feelings has not been easy. Being okay with NOT being okay is a struggle. As Shannon pointed out today, if people know you’re not well, they want to make you well right then and there. It’s not as simple as that for people with mental illness. Sometimes we ruminate on something for weeks (sometimes months). It’s the nature of the beast.

    I know that sharing my struggles does make people feel uncomfortable, but I feel uncomfortable feeling the way I do. Bottling that up just makes things worse later on. It’s like trying to hold in vomit. It needs to come out and I am not going to stop it.

    Education is key. First hand recounts are key. If you know/love someone with mental illness, try to find resources online for caretakers/family. Reach out to your local mental health associations.

    Making mental health/mental illness part of normal conversation is something I will always continue to work towards.

    Staying silent…not going to happen.

  • It’s Not a Personal Failure

    One thing I have come to accept is that mental illness is NOT a personal failure.

    I have felt that way for years. That I had somehow caused it. That I was responsible for it “showing up”. I also put the blame on myself when my daughter was diagnosed. It must have been my fault. What did I do to let this happen?

    The answer is nothing. I did nothing to “let it happen”. Chemical imbalances are just that. Imbalances. My brain needed help. I needed help. My daughter needed help.

    Once I was able to make peace with this, then it became a little easier to fight the negative voice inside my head. Do I always win? No. But I try my hardest to not listen when it tells me what a failure I am.

    I am who I am, and I will always try to share my good and bad days. People need to know that just because I appear happy go lucky, it doesn’t mean I am not hiding the fact that I struggling. On my bad days I am trying my hardest to fight “the voice”.

    Sometimes I will admit defeat, and even though it may be hard, I let myself go through what I need to go through. Keeping the bad days at bay are not always the best solution, and we shouldn’t feel bad for having them.

    Being able to navigate this thing called depression is not easy, but I’m doing my best. My daughter is doing her best. I know that everyone diagnosed with mental illness is doing their best.

    We’ve made it through some of our worst days, and we’ll make it through many more.

    We’re survivors. Not failures.

    Don’t ever forget that.