In case you were wondering...

  Hey y'all. 

Deep breath. I've found myself holding mine at times so sigh that shit out. 

Ok! I wanted to get real with y'all about where I stand on the pandemic these days and why that could even matter to you ("you" being people who want to know, and no hard feelings if you don't care). 

First off, I have fibromyalgia, which means I have chronic pain, chronic debilitating fatigue and a host of other symptoms that I won't go into. I also have a few other diagnoses that complicate things, but that's perhaps for another time. What you need to know is that I have been and will always be careful because if I catch Covid, it'll be twice as painful for me. That's how my illness works. A classic cold? I feel it twice as hard as I did when I wasn't chronically ill. 

What's more, my partner is immunocompromised. Before Covid, I've taken him to the hospital for simple things like a flu or food poisoning, unsure if he'd make it out. Most of us don't need hospitalization for flu or food poisoning but he has. So yes: I support vaccines and I'll be as careful as I can around Covid. My mom and stepdad are also in their 70s and both have health conditions that would make Covid or even the flu dangerous for them both. 

So. That's why I am careful. 

That's also why I can't stand nor tolerate staunch anti-vaxxers. Staunch anti-vaxxers are the result of fear, privilege, misinformation and wilful ignorance.  This blog isn't for those people. To you, I simply say: "Next!"

This blog is for those people who are partially vaccinated and perhaps confused about boosters, or angry or frustrated or exhausted about how the pandemic is being handled by our government and public health officials. I haven't been open to many conversations about vaccines and health care because I've been busy trying to survive, vigilant in keeping myself and my partner safe, keeping up with personal growth in healing trauma and antiracism education. I also have wanted to amplify the science of vaccines and the life saving benefits that the vaccine has afforded all of us. 

However, there are very valid concerns that a lot of you are having about health measures, lockdowns, government action or inaction and you have nowhere to put that concern. Some people reacted to their concerns by aligning with the freedom convoy; which, by the way, the convoy was never about truckers and never about freedom. It was about white nationalism. Period. Covid caused supply chain issues and inflation. Not vaccines or vaccine mandates. Almost 90% of the truckers are vaccinated and haven't been affected by mandates in the way the convoy has spun the narrative. 

But many people did NOT align with the convoy for white supremacy "freedom," and are simply exhausted, scared, and unsure what to do. Who can blame you? We've been told we all matter by the government, yet the most recent wave of omicron showed us that workers were expected to suck it up and go back to work without extra sick pay or support. We've been told that we're all in this together, yet vulnerable populations are still hit hardest by this virus. Those who identify as women or who have uteri, struggle with the implications of a vaccine and/or Covid itself on their cycles and on fertility. And we all know that health care loves to educate openly about women's health (enter sarcastic eye roll here). Small businesses that have NOT been high transmission locations were all but punished during subsequent lockdowns while big corporations and malls were privileged/prioritized over those small businesses. Mental and physical health were thrown out the window, even when the science said that it was ok to keep those spaces open in a smart, controlled way. It's frustrating as f*ck. There. I said it. 

So. What do you/we do about all of this? I know you feel powerless. We all have to some degree during this slog. I promise you, you're not powerless. If I can stay connected, engage in activism (petitions, amplifying advocates voices, calling campaigns, letter writing, email writing etc) than you can too. You also can work on owning your own emotions, practising self-compassion and grounding, and learning to be less reactive. What's more, there's information out there and people actually willing to listen about hesitancy and all of your concerns. 

For example, if you're women-identifying and worried about fertility or menstruation and the vaccine, check out Dr Jen Gunter on Instagram and her blog because she's a compassionate, badass ObGyn who has shared countless facts about the vaccine and health implications (hint, it's safe). Don't take my word for it though. Take hers, or better yet, the advice of someone else you trust. If you can't find someone, talk to a therapist (most are doing virtual appointments, which is super convenient!). Talk to a friend and make it your mission to search out sound, peer reviewed (scientific journals) on topics you're concerned about. 

If you're pissed about mandates, lockdowns, etc... get your typing fingers ready or arm yourself with a pen!! Write to YOUR ELECTED OFFICIALS to lobby for change you want to see. I cannot stress this enough.

It helps to also get clear about what's actually bugging you, take some deep, grounding breaths, engage who you think is appropriate (your mp, your MPP, etc), and rest when you need to. Rest is not a luxury: it's a necessity.

Hell, if we're friends, you can talk to me! I may not be able to physically do a lot these days but I can listen and talk (within reasonable limits, of course :). Fibro does rob me of energy in many ways, but I can text like a mothereffer.).

I'm not open to or tolerant of someone wanting to school me on how vaccines are gene therapy, or how the pandemic is a scam, or that my calling the convoy racist is me being "divisive." I got zero space and f*cks for that nonsense. Calling out racism isn't divisive: racism and white supremacy are divisive. (that's right: I underlined, italicized AND bolded that shit!)

Conversations between friends or acquaintances can be incredibly healing and a powerful agent of growth in the human spirit and psyche. I realize I may seem closed off to some of you who have concerns about vaccines or mandates because I've been both vocal about vaccines and hunkered down because of my husband's and my health issues. This is why I'm writing this blog. I want you to know that I want to see you and hear you. 

Let me level with y'all some more:

I'm tired of racists and racist apologists not being held accountable. 

I'm tired of feeling scared for my husband's life when i see people who I thought were decent subscribe to conspiracy theories and throw all scientific integrity and recommendations out the window. 

I'm tired for the vulnerable people who don't have access to basic needs, let alone health care and who are being ignored because some loud, idiotic voices are being privileged over theirs. This extends to health care workers who are being blocked, harassed, assaulted and terrorized when trying to do life-saving work.

I'm tired of BIR (Black, Indigenous and Racialized folks'), small businesses and women-identifying folks being squashed under the weight of racism, misogyny, corporate greed, and unfair working wages and environments. And, for not getting any reparations even when there was supposed to be government assistance. 

So I'm sure I'm not alone in those tired things. We're all exhausted, and while we may not fit into the exact same exhaustion topic boxes, we definitely have overlapping Venn diagrams! 

My invitation is to the following people: people who are struggling with genuine concerns about Covid and the vaccine, people who believe in health mandates but are frustrated with how they're being created and implemented, people exhausted from racism and white supremacy, and people who are exhausted from being scared all the time of this virus.. I'm here. Not 24/7 because I've gotta take care of my own sanity and health (chronic illness is a full time job). But hit up my DMS or text me. Check out Dr. Jen Gunter if you're curious about women's issues and the vaccine (or women's health in general!). Read sound studies. Talk to someone you trust. Ground. All throughout the day. 

That's what we'll end on: let's ground together. This is something you can do multiple times throughout the day, and I HIGHLY encourage you to. 

• Whether you're sitting, standing, in a wheel chair or lying down, focus on your feet. 
• Breathing in through the nose, out through the mouth, imagine roots growing from the feet into the ground, through floors, foundation, the earth, the crust. 
• Keep breathing, in through the nose out through the mouth. 
• As you imagine these roots growing longer and farther down, they're growing stronger. 
• You are growing stronger. 
• Keep breathing. When the mind wanders (and it will :)), gently refocus on the breath. 
• Clench the hands into fists a couple of times and release.
• Take another yummy breath and voila! 

Thank you for listening/reading, and for being you. Stay safe and warm, folks. 

The "S" Word

holistically: emotional

Suicide is a scary subject, right? It's one of things that is so taboo in our society. There are misconceptions about suicide, too. For one, people seem to think that talking about it makes it more likely to happen for someone; as if by mentioning suicide to someone with suicidal thoughts, then you'll be encouraging them to do it. You'll plant a seed and help it grow resulting in an attempt to suicide.

That's not true. Period.

You see, people who have suicidal thoughts think of suicide as a giant, murderous elephant in the room. It's there, it wants to literally kill them, they don't feel comfortable talking about it, but they wish they could scream about it. Whenever I brought suicide up with clients, there was a palpable exhale of relief from them. By my naming their fear and bringing up the one thing that's on their mind but not on their tongue, the murderous elephant became Snuffleupagus: awkward and not sure why it exists, but at least he isn't trying to kill you at the moment.

I've been to two training sessions on how to recognize suicidal tendencies in others and how to help people in various circumstances. The second session was akin to Suicide First Aid. Before the training, I remember that I was terrified about talking to people about suicide, how the hell I would deal with it, and what would it feel like to have someone's greatest pain tossed into my hands. Once I learned what I could, and more importantly once I learned about who gets these kinds of thoughts, it became scary for a different reason.

It became scary because I almost got used to talking about it. There were so many people I came across in my work experience with suicidal thoughts. And, just as often as those who display "typical" risk factors, were those who seemed completely "normal."

Suicidal thoughts do not indicate a definite risk of suiciding.

SIDENOTE: it's considered more compassionate to say "suicide" instead of "commit suicide," as it's not a crime anymore. In addition, saying someone "committed" suicide places more stigma on the issue. There's enough stigma on it already.

A great example of how thoughts don't always equal action can be found in this awesome article, entitled What's the difference between suicidal thoughts and actions? One mom explains.

Which brings me to the next tidbit of this wordfest.

I have so much to be thankful for: life, an incredible husband, family, friends, a decent house, two little furbabies, financial support, and so many "things" (a lot of which I probably don't "need" but I digress). All of that makes what I'm about to share that much more painful and enraging (to me). I get the "s-word" thoughts, too. I had them when I was younger (in high school), and they've poked at me for years since. There are obvious triggers (loss being the biggest one), but sometimes it's simply part and parcel of my depression. Those are fun days: feeling sad and suicidal for "no reason" except that my brain is depressed.

I'm ok. Let's get that out of the way--just as the mom says in the article, I am ok. I'm telling you this because if there are any of you out there thinking/saying "OMG ME TOO!", I want to give you the chance to exhale some relief. Of course, let me scream from my side of the universe that if you EVER feel unsafe or in crisis, call a crisis line. Do it. In London, the Crisis Line is through CMHA 519-433-2023, located on 648 Huron St., London, ON (http://cmhamiddlesex.ca/crisis-services/). The Crisis Line also has a mobile outreach unit. And, there's always 911.

It sucks to be in crisis, but it also sucks to feel any of these feelings or think any of these thoughts. Journal, talk to someone, and dare I say it? Try counselling. I'm not saying to commit yourself to a life full of therapy if you don't want to, but consider talking to someone about these thoughts. Honestly, the biggest and most profound nugget that comes from counselling is validation. I've experienced it myself, and I've had the honour to provide it for others. It's so basic, but so incredibly profound: to feel like your feelings and thoughts are based in something real, that you're not a different species, and that you're human.

Again, if counselling isn't your jam right now, there are other phone lines (Distress Centre 519-667-6711, Good2Talk 1-866-925-5454 if you're in school, Kids Help Phone 1-800-668-6868). Or, there's paper, computers, and friends. It's scary, it's humbling, but the world needs you, so take a chance.

As for the training side of things, these are the rockstars who put on the two training sessions I did (SafeTALK and ASIST): The London Middlesex Suicide Prevention Council and LifeWorks. I would encourage anyone to take SafeTALK as it's accessible, a briefer length, and usable by everyone. ASIST is more geared towards helping professionals, is more intense, but would be amazing if everyone could do it :).  Again, the ASIST training is truly more Suicide First Aid. Invaluable stuff. Both training programs help create a safer community. Who doesn't want that???

I am so thankful for the people in my life. They've been pillars, holding me up when I have felt like I was going to fall down or deserved to fall down. They relentlessly remind me that I do deserve to live and thrive, even when I wake up thinking the world would be better off if...And the experiences I've had: they've given me the resources to help myself and others.

I'm ok. If you're not, please talk to someone. Name that elephant, because you could turn it from a demonic, laser-eyed beast into Snuffleupagus. And who could be scared of Snuffleupagus????



(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/8/80/Snuffy31.jpg)

Grief

holistically: emotional
and everything else

Have you seen the movie Homeward Bound? If you have, good on you. If you haven't, then I suggest you either watch it or continue under the warning that there are some spoilers. You were warned.
You were.

Remember the scene where Shadow gets stuck in that awful mud hole? He whimpers and paws frantically to get out of it while his companions try to help him, but he falls clumsily back into the mire for what seems like forever?

That's grief.

You paw and claw out of the muck and mire but you slide back down and fall on your ass. Yup. It's messy, unpredictable, but you know it's a tough mothertrucker to get out of. There is no formula, rhyme or reason.Your friends and family worry about you getting out and try wonderful and sometimes silly things to help you out. Or they're in there with you, fighting the (not so) good fight.  If they're on the outside, they'll shout suggestions, commands, encouragements, declarations of love, concern, sometimes even anger... "GET OUT!" "YOU CAN DO IT!" "KEEP TRYING!"

In case you hadn't guessed or don't know me, I'm currently grieving. I've been through this before, as many of you have, but I'm an adult this time around. The difference between then and now? Swearwords and alcohol are available (allowed).

My first dance with grief started when I was 7 years old. I've grown older since then and hopefully somewhat wiser. However, grief doesn't give a shit. It throws you into a pit and makes you feel like that scared, helpless 7 year old (except with a bottle of tequila in your grasp). The mud starts to dry up with each happy moment or memory, and you think you have enough traction to climb out. Sadness creeps in and starts to make it rain. Bye bye traction. Or maybe anger sweeps in, makes it pour, makes it rain ice pellets that you can't escape from. All you can do is sit or stand there and scream. You're not getting out today.

Then the happy memories come back... the hope. Whether or not the sun comes out, it has at least stopped raining long enough to catch your breath. You don't quite feel like "you" yet, but you don't feel like a worthless piece of shit, either.

I don't know if you remember in the movie, but Shadow makes it out. How? No idea. Some may say it got dry enough for him to climb, others may say a stick or board was there that helped him, still others may say "dog magic" or "who cares?!". The point is, he made it out (much to his family's joyous relief). Shadow survived.

Ironic name, really: Shadow. Grief does stick with you once you're out of the pit like a shadow. But I digress.

Shadow climbed out of the pit. You can climb out of grief.

Unfortunately, as this isn't the world of voice-over animals who survive amazing (impossible?) odds, there won't be a music cue or time limit on a film reel to tell you when you'll get out of the pit. The "when" isn't the point, actually. "If" is the point.

Will you make it out?

For those of you who've been through loss and grief, you clearly made it out. Even if you're still muddy years after, you made it out. So did I. Let's not analyze our performance too much, ok? Let's just give this a pass/fail. We're alive. That's a pass!

I'll climb out of this one. One day [insert emo face here]

In case you hadn't noticed, I also use humour as a coping mechanism.

Carrying on: being an adult is simultaneously helpful and maddening for dealing with grief. It's helpful in the ways I've already mentioned (larger vocabulary and access to sweet sweet scotch), but maddening in that your logic can name all the feelings you're going through and the stages of grief, but it matters ZERO PERCENT. Your feelings certainly don't give a shit. They hit, smack, kick, tickle, slap, punch, and stab you whenever they want, however they want, and for however long they want. You can name them all you want: it won't matter. They're still comin'.

This is normal. Remember that.

So what do you do to avoid grief? You don't. Sorry.

But you can do something radical once you're in the pit. Be kind to yourself. Feel the feelings. Take it hour by hour or minute by minute if you have to. Yes, the pain can be strong enough to make you want to do horrible things or numb up and waste away. Like phobias, the best way to deal with grief is to feel it and face it. It sucks. I'm not going to sugarcoat that. As for your onlookers, cheering squad, mockers, whoever: pay attention to the ones who love you and who you love. These are the ones who "get it." They likely have been through grief before, too. They don't make your pain about them or your grieving process about them. It's your ass in the pit: not theirs.

There will be those people who give you hope through it all, which will feel impossible until you feel them near. I hope you experience this if you have to go through this at all. They're earth angels. They'll be there for you no matter how messy you get. Chances are, they've been where you are. They'll let you be who you are, feel what you feel, and only interfere when you start digging yourself into a dangerous place from which you may not return.

Listen to those people.

There will be people who mean well but who don't know how to deal with other people in pain. That's their cross to bear: not yours. This doesn't make them bad or wrong; it simply means that you don't need to expend what little energy you'll have on them. That's ok.

You'll make it out. Keep going. Climb. Or just sit and bark a lot until you get bored, the music in your head swells like the ending of a movie, and you magic your way to higher ground. I won't judge. My cats are sometimes my greatest therapists, so really. I can't judge.

Good luck to you. I'm done pawing at the muddy walls for the day. Time for a break before I go at 'er again tomorrow.

Let's be REBELS

holistically: mindful

Because I feel mental these days. And I'm fine with that. 

Life has a funny way of twisting and warping your sense of time. Back in the Fall of 2015, it felt like time was trudging by, then sped up exponentially as my wedding drew nearer. Here we are. It's March, 2016: the birth month of my sister and my mother-in-law (two very special women). March also marks the anniversary of my grandmother's death (another very special woman). In between it all, St. Patty's Day shall adorn our lives with merriment and shenanigans. Quite the month.

I began typing this with a war wound from cooking: I sliced the padding of my ring finger with a potato peeler while prepping potatoes for both a tomato soup and a coconut curry.  I don't recommend it (the slicing of the finger; not the dishes...they're delicious). i'm compelled to be here, though: I'm here to step up the game with writing these posts. I've missed my e-verse. I've missed exploring familiar topics and contemplating other topics that seem fresh and alluring. This is a new year and there are new shenanigans to explore!

Why the title? It's not simply clickbait: I swear. 

I want to be a rebel, and I encourage you, my friends--my e-verse--to do the same. Against what shall we rebel? I dare us to rebel against societal norms and pressure to accept mediocrity in ourselves and in love.

I have been married 5 months. That's a drop in the bucket compared to other couples. Fully understand that, and I realize that we have a long road ahead of us filled with sunshine and storms. And those days where it's rainy and cool and makes you feel like your bones are shivering.  But mostly sunny days where there's a breeze and you could frolic all day long.

I digress.

What societal norms was I referring to before? In regard to pressures while in love...I have been teased by longer-married couples (in good humour, I reckon) about my husband and I being a "ball-and-chain" to each other. More often than not, we've heard many quips about how everything goes downhill after the wedding day. Yes, a few important things in my life did plunge into chaos after my wedding (and honeymoon), but it wasn't my marriage. 

If anything, my marriage has been getting better--or at least stronger. Hence why we got married. I did not get married just because it was the right thing to do at the time. My husband and I check in with each other all the time about life and how we're doing--we communicate with each other (shocking, I know... at least to the camps of people who believe marriage equals tolerating each other and having kids). We revel in each other's company, which has been very needed (let me tell you). We've done our best to honour when we need alone time, time with friends, time with family, and time "just us."

I admire and am humbled by my husband. Throughout some struggles that have bled into this year from 2015, he has encouraged me to radically take care of myself. This is not something I'm used to. I'm accustomed to a cortisol-fuelled, hamster-wheel lifestyle. He wants me to thrive and be happy and has done everything in his power to make it happen.

Amidst the kindness from my husband and my mission to regain my Ash-ness (and de-hamster), I'm reminded of some pesky societal pressures... I'm at that age now (i.e. any age post 25-years-old) where kids become a question, vocation is wagging its finger at me saying "make up your mind, stupid!", and I start to wonder if living in an apartment is still acceptable by society...at this age.  I'm guilty of letting these intruders in sometimes. All they're good for is pressure and stress.

Here's the part where we rebel, folks. Screw the pressure. Screw the ticking biological timebomb bullshit. Screw the notion that marriage and/or life slopes downwards after "that age" or after the most expensive (and hopefully happiest?!) day in your life.

No. I do not accept you.

Life isn't meant to be perfect, but it doesn't have to suck or be mediocre (at best). There will be shitty days and shitty periods in your life: whether you're married or not. What you hold onto and put your love and energy into during those shitty times and good times is what will thrive. If things get hard during our marriage, we haven't said "oh... this is life's expiration starting to take place. Cool." 

Instead, we've rebelled and said "hey you: we've got a good thing here and we're going to stick together." When life gets hard, we become shit-surfers, or at least help the other person onto the surfboard to ride it out together. (That whole communication thing helps a whole lot!)

If life gives you too much to be able to or want to help yourself or your spouse, then something needs to change. That's when the bullshit all piles up and the acceptance or compliance to the storm takes over. As in: "ok... this is how it's meant to be, I guess." *insert passive shrug here*

Sometimes, we need to pause in that passivity in order catch our breath and find inspiration to move forward. OF COURSE: in this passive time, be kind to your fine self and cope with what you can, when and how you can. I am a strong believer in asking for help if needed, too. 

THEN!

The magic happens when you're ready to move

ready to face change

ready to be a REBEL. 

Movement and "change" do not have to mean making things instantly sunny and happy. In fact, it practically never does. There is almost always discomfort with change, even when it leads to something beautiful. The point is to be rebellious against the status quo of whatever bullshit weight bears down on your shoulders. I dare you to not accept it just because everyone else is, or because it's common to do so for yourself or others. I dare you to be a rebel for yourself--for your heart and soul--and for your loved one(s).

It hasn't been easy rebelling against the notion that I'm becoming a boring, old, lazy, weakling due to recent life changes and decisions. I'm not ok with that and it hurts to feel like I'm becoming less of a person because of some of what's happened to me and choices I have made as I get older.

Inspired by the love in my life (from my husband, family, friends, colleagues), I dared to move and rebel against the dangers of getting older than 25. I'm sure some of the pressure and judgment I've felt has been self-imposed. That said, upon further exploration and discussion with friends and family, I've realized that an uncomfortable amount of pressure extends from long-standing societal expectations to be all wonderful things (including semi-happily married) by 25 or run the risk of being nothing at all. 

Rebel. 

Dare to balance compassion for yourself with forward momentum to evolve. I do not accept that life has to suck once I've passed 25 AND entered the institution of marriage.** I may not be WonderWoman at age 28, but my choices and circumstances have blessed me with an incredible circle of support, a mind that is mental but inspired, and a heart that is just as ok with taking care of itself as it is discovering the next mission on which it wants to embark.

Check your own pressures at the door and any pressures that may extend from the big bad world of "what everyone else is doing and saying." Dare to be you at any age, satisfy your heart at any age, and dare to be happy....... at ANY AGE, in ANY state of relationship including marriage. Life gets hard at times: it doesn't have to stay that way just because you got older and got married...or didn't. (Because being a single person past 25 is a whole other bag of.... sticks. This merits its own post some day.)

Just remember: 

Rebel.

**Please see my previous post on how I cherish marriage, if you're unsure of my feelings on the subject. :)