Work In Progress

I think if I were observed a year ago for a week, it would be common to see my juggling two or more books with three or more in the wings. My tastes are simple, but specific: I like books with vampires (I prefer the non-sparkly ones), werewolves, demons, ghosts, angels or witches--sampling some historic time periods--with clever banter and light romance -- (imagine how thrilled I was to find Jim Butcher's Dreseden Files series and Deborah Harkness' Discover of Witches --all my guilty pleasures rolled into each series).  But suddenly, I cannot read.  I have 2 novels, supine on my bedside table...a thin layer of dust dulls the vivid covers.  Each time I see them I feel guilty--and confused. The last time I wrestled with depression (and it really does feel like that--a wrestling match.  Sometimes you are on top and strong, other times the heavy weight holds you down and you can barely breathe)  reading was ...

I remember hearing in 2010 when Clara Hughes became one of the faces of  Bell's ‘Let’s Talk’ campaign to help raise awareness and support for those suffering from mental illness.  She signed a five year commitment to share her story of struggling with depression in hopes of erasing the stigma of shame metal illness can generate. On the heels of Olympic success, her broad smile had been on every Canadian television and it was the perfect moment to share her message ---people would be listening. I was listening!  And then I promptly forgot about her...because I thought it had nothing to do with me.  Just recently, Hughes spoke to more than 1,100 spectators at the London Convention Centre for the seventh annual Breakfast of Champions, a fundraiser presented jointly by St. Joseph’s Health Care Foundation and the Canadian Mental Health Association London-Middlesex. She described her early experiences with drinking, drugs and ditching school...

I have discovered that I care more about what people think of me than I thought. This comes as a bit of a surprise.   Not often enough, I get together with two women I have known since childhood.  As it often does in situations like this, we reminisce and inevitably the conversation winds its way around to why we did what we did when we were younger and someone alwayts says to me, "You never cared what anyone thought!  I wish I was more like that!  When we were little, we would come to your house and ask you to come out to play and you would say, 'nah, I don't feel like it' and close the door!"    Though now, I am wondering if other people would say ?  I will take an unofficial poll and see what I find out.    When I announced to the same two women I had discovered I was a perfectionist during my therapy--they looked at each other and burst out laughing. I have still not told anyone I ...

“At the core of all well-founded belief lies belief that is unfounded.” ― Ludwig Wittgenstein , On Certainty At the core of each of us is a set of beliefs --"a repeating pattern of thought and behavior defined by our various assumptions and expectations, as well as our ideas about the way the world works, collected over time."[ 1 ]  These beliefs were formed in childhood, and throughout life we generally seek out situations where our actions reinforce our core beliefs --- which in turn, provides us with proof that our core beliefs are true --which reinforces the belief. It is a self-feeding cycle. Core beliefs are elusive---they are in our subconscious--quietly feeding our feelings (which are a bit more easy to identify) information mixed in with so much misinformation you can not longer tell what is real. Let me walk you through something that recently happened to me to help shed some light on one particular core belief I have been struggling with.  I have...

 When I set my mind to achieving something, I have almost always succeeded.  At my core, I believe that it is just a matter of knowing what the expectation is and working hard. So it is only natural that I would apply this same philosophy my recovery.   Me at home : How can I be this sick after all this bed rest? What is going ON with my breathing and where is this pain coming from? I can't afford to be away from work --there is so much going on and these e-mails just keep coming so it is good I am answering them from home.  The laundry is piling up and there is no milk and geeze the toilet needs a good scrub.  I didn't get the muffins made and I didn't take those items to the donation box and I was going to clean out the fridge and pantry today --OMG I am such a loser! I can't do anything right even when I have all day?  I can't even GET BETTER. I feel like I would rather just pack it all in..what's the use anyway.....

Ok so for the past few posts I have been talking about Joy. Looking for Joy. Finding Joy.  Inviting Joy in.  Embracing Joy. All seems a bit rushed don't you think?  I mean really, I hardly KNOW Joy and here I am searching for her, inviting her in, embracing her?  (Yeah, that is the voice of the scared kid in my --not so sure I want to play around in the emotional sandbox.  Sand gets in your eyes, your shorts, it's dirty and smells funny and someone ends up crying--and it is usually me). Yes, I know Joy is not a person (apologies to all the Joys out there--it's a lovely name) but it  is really important to me.  And since I am pretty unfamiliar with Joy, I need to understand what Joy looks like.  Hence.... Joy. Mirriam Webster Online Dictionary defines Joy as: a : the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires.   Let's start by assuming that to understand J...

One of the first things I think I have to do is acknowledge that bad things do happen.  Just look at the news any day.  But by tempering any joy with a sense of foreboding doom you can't experience the true "Ka-POW" of ANY joy.  Whether it is a matter of I don't think I deserve to be happy (something I struggle with now while being off work ---and getting waves of feeling like why can't I just suck it up and get back at it) or I believe that being joyful is tempting fate to dump a truck load of misery on my doorstep--I am not sure.  Probably a bit of both working there.  So assuage foreboding joy--I guess I have to slowly, cautiously invite Joy in--while employing lots of positive self talk. I remember on my first day of the adult day treatment program, the recreation therapist rolled a cart full of pains and paintbrushes, sticker, markers, pots, boxes and other craft supplies into the room.  She explained ...

One of the things I found very stressful during the 8 week adult day treatment program I attended each day after leaving the hospital, was being left at the edge of a cliff when the clock announced each class was over.  Sometimes the discussion was animated or the material too vast to cover in the time assigned but I always wanted to know what I was supposed to DO about my anger issues/panic attacks/perfectionism/low self-esteem (most of which I didn't even recognize as part of my life until I attended the program ).  The worst day was when the doctor   talked about  panic attacks --what one is, what chemicals are being released in your body, what one feels like (for people like me who have them)---and then saying...."Oops we are out of time, so next week when we meet we will discuss what to DO when you feel a panic attack coming."  What?!  Really?!! Not quite as bad as being le...

  I am probably pretty late to the party on this one but recently, through my therapist, I have been introduced to the writings and talks of  Brené Brown ,  Ph.D. and Licensed Master Social Worker.  She is currently a research professor at the University of Houston,  Graduate College of Social Work  and has spent the last ten years researching and sharing her findings surrounding vulnerability, courage, worthiness, and shame.    When I mentioned Brown to a friend of mine yesterday, and how I thought I might really benefit from reading her work, she exclaimed, " I KNOW! I just picked up two of her books from the library!" To which I responded--"SERIOUSLY??? I just ordered two of her books from Chapters!!!!"  ( Yes we talk like this sometimes.  I believe everyone should have one friend that you can get incredibly animated with, regardless of whether you are exci...

Yesterday I referenced another great blog and I have been very excited to spend some time reflecting on what I read.  It is from " The Actual Pastor " ..whose post I found through my sister-in-law's, friend's Facebook page post....go figure.  He talks about how when as a child he was ridiculed and teased at school and how he began to mask his vulnerability to being hurt  ( blog post April 29, 2013)  After all, didn't we all get told: "Don't let people see that they have gotten to you!"; "Just laugh it off"; "Suck it up buttercup!" "... you are not sure who to be anymore, or what to do. We just know we never want to be rejected like that again. So we create masks that protect our actual and vulnerable selves, projecting an image that seems more sturdy and less susceptible to trauma.....The problem is that the longer we wear these masks, the more fused to our actual selves they become, and it becomes harder and harder to se...

Today is a good day.   I have positioned my laptop on the dining room table in a way so that I can see the bird feeders.  Even through the closed doors I can hear the unique  warble of the yellow finches that have recently begun to frequent my yard.   This morning, cardinals-- the male brilliant in his scarlet coat and black mask -- returned, and as I watched, the male flew back and forth from the sunflower seeds to feed his mate .    Watching the birds gives me great joy and so I am trying to take the time to do this each day.  Were it not for this blog and how it makes me sit down and think, I can't say I would sit still long enough to do this. Taking time for myself is still a foreign concept. It is ironic that I have tried to attract birds to our pet free, quiet yard for years and the first year we have two dogs (one a squirrel/bird chasing terrier who launches hers...

After the soil was removed from one side of the Tower's foundation, it was sturdy enough to support the seven bells--the weight could now be managed  comfortably.   The support lines were carefully removed, townspeople could safely return to their homes in the Tower's shadow without fear  and  tourists returned to climb the almost 300 stairs to the top to take in the gorgeous view after the 12 year closure. With the Tower stable, restoration efforts shifted to the façade where lasers, chisels and syringes were employed to clean the 24,424 blocks of marble and limestone.  Constructed only 12km from the Mediterranean Sea, the tower is at the mercy of storms coming off the coast and has had to battle both human and pigeon damage! I couldn't think of a better image to represent my journey than with the Leaning Tower of Pisa.   For someone like me who likes...

Everyone is different, but there are some common symptoms of depression:  I stopped : sleeping well; going out; calling anyone or answering the phone; going to the gym; baking (which I love) and reading.   I started : eating poorly; listening to people who were trying to help (my boss, my family doctor, my therapist, my spouse); getting excruciating phantom nerve pain and feeling helpless and stuck; jumping from one thing to the next and finding easy tasks overwhelming; crying and feeling hopeless and all the time wondering how everyone else seemed to have it all together. I finally ended up in the adult mental health ward of the hospital--after my spouse pleaded with the ER doctor to send in a crisis worker instead of sending me home.  I stayed for 18 days-- surrounded by people who wanted to help and support me. They removed some of the weight I was carrying and launched a lifeline of support to shore me up...

My visit to Pisa in 1970 was near the beginning of the 20 year investigation into how to stabilize the Tower while retaining the unique, identifiable, historic tilt. What finally prompted its closure in 1990 was the collapse of the 72 m high Civic Tower in Pavia Italy, one year earlier, that killed four people and injured fifteen.   No one wanted to see the Tower of Pisa, at 55 m high, succumb to a similar fate.   So they made a plan.   Fiirst, they removed the seven bells--22,000 lbs--  from the belfry at the top.   Then cables were cinched around the third level and anchored several hundred meters away to provide support. This seems to me like a wise thing to do.   Before you start digging around in the foundation and risking a total collapse, it is important to find ways to shore yourself up--to examine the heavy things you are carrying around in your belfry--to fin...