There is currently an immeasurable number of thoughts going through my brain at any given moment as of late. Like, a Googolplex of ’em. And, I’m tired. Exhausted. I am trying everything from finding #gladitude (the smallest of pleasurable things you’d otherwise not have noticed) to talking, to desperately trying to redefine my “self-care” practices as what once worked, may no longer. My nerves are shot. Just the sound of the neighbour’s kids thumping up and down their stairs next door makes me want to stab my own ears with a spork. The dog licking. The kids chewing. All of…
Even in my quasi-hiatus from posting during the craziness of the summertime ten hour work days whilst trying to maintain some semblance of emotional stability…I’ve been pondering. I’ve been pondering my life, my soul, my ”Everything.”…as is pretty usual fare in my little corner of the Cosmos. One of my ponderances?? ”Invisible illness.” Peeps, I feckin’ LOATHE the term. To me, it’s like every time I say, ”I have an invisible illness” I’m enabling other people to continue to see only that they cannot see my ”Sick.” This bothers me, and until now, I’d not a clue why. Then I…
My enlightened “You didn’t ask for it” advice to new parents: Kids don’t come with manuals. Or, receipts. *shifty eyes* Now that I’m entering the busiest several months of my entire year, I took a quick moment to take stock of my perceptions, emotions and realities. Reality is this: I’m a mother of five, working a job I’d never considered, trying to make shit work in the chaos of my reality while having some quality of life as I do it. Reality is also this: I fucking hate it, the “Everything”, on the less-than-stellar days. Life is already hard enough…
Ordinarily this might have been viewed as one of “those days” where you wake up and just want to change EVERYthing… …but that was furthest from my Walking Dead-esque brain cells. Of which I’ve got three left. I’d had four, but I can’t feckin’ remember when I’d said that I lost the latest one… Today was full of “supposed-to’s”. I was supposed to relax and nurse a sore lower lumbar. I was supposed to go to a gathering this evening and was further supposed to have taken care of my ill-feeling husband once it was deemed that there would be…
#HAWMC Day 21: “Reflection. This is a day to reflect. For the WEGO Health family, we reflect on those who lost loved ones in the Boston Marathon Bombing last year and hope for a bright future for those impacted. Reflect on your journey to this day, what are your thoughts and hopes for the future?” I’ve written and erased four different attempts at this post. One was too wishy-washy. One was too serious. One was too “I should prolly have a therapist on speed-dial.” One was… …too real. Maybe that’s the reflection. Reflecting on just how real this journey-that-I-never-wanted has…
Alternatively known as, “I woke up this morning and wanted to change EVERYTHING!”…but with less happy and with more sledgehammer-y. I have one of those kitchens that kind of reminds me of a box. Schroedinger would have a field day with my kitchen. It’s fairly big…but the spatial challenges it faces (trying to be totally “PC” here) is frustrating, at best. NOT because I have a ton’o’shit. Which, in fact, I might. But that’s not the point. The point *IS*…when my Go, Go SpazzyAss needs to get into the corner cupboards, I damn near take off a boob on the…
Mood and anxiety disorders impact an estimated 22% of the Canadian population. ~CMHA Today is Bell’s “Let’s Talk” day. Today is a day to talk about mental health. It’s not “the” day, because mental health should be talked about whenever…where ever…and repeatedly, where necessary. The world as I see it, ain’t all purple painted ponies pooping butterflies jacked up on SugarSmacks. I shit you not. True story. I know many things about mental health, and I’m making a choice to talk to you about it in the hopes that it might enable you to start a conversation with someone –…