Behind the Smile

I've been struggling with writing this post for the last couple of days. I wrote it, I deleted it, I wrote it again. I saved it. And here I am again, re-writing, editing, thinking... and I'm still not sure I want

to post it... but here it is.

Monday night I was at a family dinner celebrating my parents' birthdays. Out of the blue my brother-in-law says "Oh my God, Robin Williams killed himself!" Understandably, everyone's reaction was the same: "What?!" And over the past couple of days we've been inundated with posts about his life, his amazing works, and perhaps not surprisingly quite a few posts about mental illness, specifically depression.

Let me be clear: The last flipping thing I want to do is capitalise on the unfortunate and very sad death of someone who brought millions of people joy and laughter. That is NOT the point of this post. In fact, not referring to it in my blog has been my main reason for not posting this piece again and again over the past few days. But I just have to speak to something that I keep seeing in the media and on facebook and twitter.





Almost all of the posts that take issue with people's reaction to Robin Williams' death start with or reference the tweet that Evan Rachel Wood & The Academy posted:

Northward Bound

We're coming up on the Civic Holiday weekend here in Canada. And for the past many years this has been a weekend where my family (my parents, my sisters and I and our respective families) head up north to our family cottage to get a little silly and crazy and have a general good time. Unfortunately this year our youngest sister won't be able to join us but we're still looking forward to a great weekend of swimming, sunning, bonfires, games and cottage dance parties.

There's just something about the cottage. I spent most of every summer growing up there. I got engaged and married there. I've spent countless birthdays, family celebrations, corn roasts, boat rallies and Canada Days up there. I would live there if I could...

I often joke that if it weren't for the fact that I'm so obviously addicted to things like social media, digital photography and my e-reader that I should have been born in a different century. I love to do things like knit and crochet, sew, and I put up tonnes of homemade pickles and jams each year. And there's something about being up north, where our cell phones don't work and there's no Internet that just.... refreshes my soul. I usually bring my guitar and my yoga mat. And I spend a lot more time sitting, drinking tea and talking to my family members - live and in person than I normally do. Getting up early to go and do yoga on the dock as the sun burns the fog off the water, drinking tea in Adirondack chairs, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows over a bonfire, and singing silly songs with my Dad and my kids while I play my guitar... those are the things that have real, honest, value in my life.

I look at this weekend away as a kind of retreat. I will miss you bloggies - but I will return to my normal, electronically filled life far too soon - but for now - I'm packing up and heading northward bound. One of the places my heart calls home.

Hope you're having a peace and rest-filled weekend too!
Talk soon.
Tea.

A Painful Anniversary

Today is a painful anniversary. One I've, honestly, been trying not to think about all day. It helped (ha!) that our water heater broke this morning and our laundry room was flooded and I spent a good chunk of the morning thinking about that instead... but every time I get a spare moment to myself... it creeps in.

A year ago today - my whole life got turned upside down. Stood right on its head. I lost absolute control over everything about myself. A year ago today I learned that I had lost our baby. It was a true death for me. I grieved it as one. I still grieve our baby's loss. I may, likely, do so for the rest of my life.

My Mother, My Friend.

I keep reading these articles and blogs and books and such that say "You are not your child's friend. You are their parent. You can love them unconditionally, you can support and encourage them, you can laugh and play with them, but you are not their friend." and I think... wow. My Mom sure did it wrong.

Now, obviously I'm being a bit sarcastic here. My mother has always been my mother... and while I certainly wasn't your typical teenager (I left the screaming and such to my younger sisters) I certainly had my teenage moments... but having lived at home throughout school, and even university, and now I'm grown and have kiddos of my own, I can honestly say that I am proud to call her both my Mom and my friend.

We do a lot together. We dance together in our church's liturgical dance group, we chat regularly, drop by each other's houses, drink tea, email practically daily... she is definitely my Mom. There are times in all of our lives when we just need to talk to our mothers... but she is also definitely my friend.

She taught me to be strong, and she supports me when I'm not. She taught me to be confident, and she built me up so that I could be. She taught me to laugh at myself, by never being afraid to show her silly, goofy side. She taught me to try new things, because you never know what your next passion might be. She taught me the value of good food, good friends, family and that time is the most precious gift you can give anyone.

She has also helped me through this dark time this past year, by not being afraid to share her own journey through the darkness of depression and loss. She is a powerfully vulnerable, beautifully confident, and an amazingly wonderful woman. My mother, my friend.

Happy Mother's Day Mama. Thank you for being the mother I'm striving to be.

Emotional rollercoaster

So, when I was young, we did a youth musical at our church (actually, we did a bunch of them, but this one sticks out right now) and one had a song that went like this "This rollercoaster ride of life, lifts you up and lets you down. This rollercoaster ride of life, spins you round and round and round. Heaven knows, wherever you go, He will be there by your side. On this rollercoaster ride, of life."

Now, obviously, as teens,  we all totally related to this. I mean, when in your life are your more on an emotional rollercoaster than when you're a teenager. But this past year has been as much of an emotional rollercoaster as any time in my life.

Right now, I'm in the process of switching to a new medication. Fun, wow - right? ugh.

Let's Talk, Shall we?

For Canadians - today is one day a year that we all know what the phrase "Let's Talk" is about. Bell, the phone company, has decided that on February 12 they will be donating money towards mental health awareness, research and care for every text or long distance call sent on their network, as well as every tweet with the hashtag #BellLetsTalk. It's the one day of the year that I'm sorry I'm not with Bell as my cell provider because I'd be texting the HE-double hockey sticks out of their network today.

I've heard over and over again that the #1 lie everyone tells is this: "I'm fine." and I honestly believe that's true. So often we smile, lie and move on because we either don't believe that anyone else wants to know our issues or problems, or that they don't really care. Maybe that's true in some cases, but let's stop lying to each other and especially to ourselves.

Soul-weary

Maybe it's the weather...

I can't tell you how many times someone has said that to me recently. After a while of friends and family dealing with the fact of my depression and anxiety, it's inevitable that someone, well meaning or not, will say something like "Maybe it's the weather." Or, even better, "Well, it being winter doesn't help." And those things may well be true. In fact, many people deal with higher than average levels of depression and sadness and just feeling "down" at this time of year simply because we don't get enough sunlight, and vitamin D. But, I'm pretty sure that taking a vitamin isn't going to make much difference here.

I wish it were that simple.

But a vitamin isn't going to stop that horrible, nagging voice in my head when I'm alone, or trying to sleep, or in the shower. That voice that reminds me of how I'm a terrible mother, a useless wife, a bad friend. That voice that tells me that I don't deserve my children, my husband, my family. That maybe those people would be better off without me around.

A vitamin isn't going to make me stop checking.... EVERYTHING. Compulsively making lists and checking them, and re-writing them because they're not in order, or they don't read correctly, or it's just easier to go to the computer, type them all out, make bullet points, so that I can cross them off, or check them off, or check the list 10,000 times a day.

But what IS going to help those things? I don't know. And I'm tired. My soul is tired. I'm soul-weary.

Seeking Comfort

What comforts you?
Snuggly, comfy clothes?
Warm blankets?
Bad TV movies?

I think that during January and February, when we're all dealing a little bit with the lack of sunshine, having to pack away all the joy of Christmas, making some (sometimes unrealistic) new year's resolutions, going back to school or work after the holidays that we're all in need of a little comfort. I know I am.