Now That We Don’t Talk

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?

I realized that I haven’t really had the energy to write anything in a long time. The truth is that I didn’t know what to write about. I didn’t really feel confident in my abilities in really anything, and for a long time I’ve been going through the motions. But I’ve been sitting at home down sick with the flu, which has freed up some time to actually be creative and write something.

There hasn’t been much to discuss. I’ve been grieving the loss of a twenty year friendship and it’s crushed me to my core. I have actually mourned this more than my divorce, and even several deaths. This was more than a friendship; they were quite literally the most important non related person in my entire life. I genuinely felt like they were my human in this life, and I didn’t even care how one sided the friendship was getting. I was begging to make plans, they only reached out when they needed to vent. When I was at rock bottom, navigating my weight, my mom, and my mentally ill teenager, I broke down over a pair of pants. Was it dramatic? OF COURSE I WAS OVERLY DRAMATIC! But I didn’t need to hear that. I wanted someone to see that I was breaking down under the pressure of my reality and just tell me that they cared and offered anything; a coffee, a hug, a stiff drink. Instead, I bawled alone on my bedroom floor in silence. I’ve sobbed on my floor so many more times since then; on my birthday, when I didn’t hear from them at all. On their birthday, when I extended an olive branch, desperately wanting my friend, only to be left on read. Even now, I catch myself when something happens in my day, or I get a new meme, because that’s the first person I want to talk to. From that positive work review, to my possible reconciliation with a former flame, I grab my phone to text, and then remember there’s no point. With my divorce, I was happy to be finally free, but this is like having a limb hacked off and expected to be the same. It’s really rattled me in ways I’ve never imagined.

But much like in all things, it’s important to take this experience and use it to grow. I’ve been doing a lot of reflection. I asked my most honest of all of the friends if I was off base over ramen. She said of course I was dramatic, because I’m always dramatic. However, a little basic human empathy would have been nice, and it’s a good thing I didn’t call her, because she has only one feeling.

This is actually not true, and she’s the best person ever. She has been with me during some of the darkest times, taken my daughter to the hospital, and was the only person who showed up to my holiday party even though she had been in a car wreck three days earlier. We need more people like her in our lives).

This gave me an epiphany. I’ve been trying so hard to get back to the old me, but the old me is dead and gone.

I loved the old me, and I currently hate the current me. But I also have to accept that the old me is gone. She died under the weight of a million tasks, inflation, and exhaustion. She can’t come back because she isn’t right for this version of my life and that’s okay. So I realized I needed to grieve for the person I used to be, because she can’t live in this current reality. I need to let her go so I can rebuild her as someone who I can love again.

That didn’t mean that pieces of her can’t come back. It just meant that some things would never be the same. Instead of praying to be who I used to be, I had to look at my life and ask “who am I now?” And then learn to love her. I keep getting stuck because I’m trying to get back to a person who can’t exist anymore. My life has changed dramatically since then. I’m now a full time caregiver to an elderly parent. I work a completely different job. Inflation has changed how much extra money I have. I enjoy being alone more than I ever have before. There isn’t a world to house the old MHC anymore because it’s also dramatically changed. I’ve been failing at all of my goals because I keep trying to walk backwards to a life and a world that isn’t there anymore. I’ve spent years learning to pivot and move forward no matter how bad things got in my life, but I fell into a holding pattern and couldn’t get out.

So, I started making it a point every day to do something to get out of Groundhog Day. From weekend cardio with my 6km walks to Starbucks, working out at night, and making it a point to get a good night’s sleep every night. In order to get back to a person I like, I have to create her from the ground up again. Sometimes it feels so exhausting to constantly have to adapt, but as my daughter would say “sucks.” The truth is that we will always have to adapt. Marriages end, friendships fall apart, relatives die, jobs can be lost. But you can’t just expect to go back to the way it used to be when the way it used to be no longer exists. Instead, you just have to learn how to become the best version of you in your new reality.

Castles Crumbling

Oh hey!

It’s been a minute, hasn’t it?

I would pretend I have some big reason or something exciting is happening in my life, but the truth is, I was just very depressed.

I’ll have some good days and feel like maybe I’m finally in a good place, but then something will happen and I’ll realize I’m not quite as healthy as I thought. It was actually a day at the gym. It was ideally the best kind of gym day. My fave team members were there. The best coaches were there. The workout had all of my favourite movements. But I left and sat in my car crying because I HATED CrossFit.

I couldn’t get past how I used to be good at this. But now I just felt like a fat blob trying to work out. I went back to running, and a guy on my street made a fat joke and told me to lose weight as I was running. Like, dude, I am literally jogging, I AM CLEARLY TRYING TO GET IN SHAPE. But again, I wasn’t good at it anymore. I just wanted to be good at my favourite things again. I didn’t write anything because I had no desire. I didn’t feel good at it. I didn’t feel good at anything I used to be good at. I was learning the ropes at a new job and I desperately wanted to be good at it. I wanted to feel like a good mom, but advocating to make sure your mentally ill teenager gets the treatment she needs is hard. You’re judged by doctors who have no way to help due to cutbacks. Any time I tried to tell people how depressed I was, I just got “okay,” or “I’m sorry.” Every time I would just repress some more, until it bubbled up again and rinse, repeat. I was falling apart and dead inside, but still expected to raise my kids and take care of my mom, keep my house clean, and also drop everything when a friend needed a shoulder.

Rock bottom came when I was sobbing on my floor because I hated myself. I was so miserable and I had to buy pants a size up. I was going on a trip, and I was terrified about flying. What if I didn’t fit in a plane seat? What if I was one of those people they make fun of in memes? Was this irrational? Yes. But my body dysmorphia was out of control. I had worked so hard to never feel like this again and yet here I was. I was embarrassed and broken. I had broken out in hives from eczema, triggered by stress. I reached out to a friend and was told I was dramatic. I remember sitting on my floor for over an hour, numb. I hated myself so much that I couldn’t even move from my floor, and the one person who I felt would understand how intense my body image issues had become completely dismissed me like a minor annoyance.

Before I continue, I want to acknowledge the people who do show up for me, because I’m so grateful to have them in my life. One of my best friends dropped everything to take my daughter to the hospital when I was stuck in Red Deer. My best friend from high school is one of the best listeners, even when I spend more time talking about my salad than my date. I have a lot of people who have been in the trenches with me while I struggle to get out of bed some days, and they deserve to be acknowledged.

Anywho, I was MAD. More mad than I have ever been in a long time. I saw RED. Every single thing that I had bottled up for months and months suddenly erupted. It was the last straw after months and months of little things where my feelings would be hurt and I’d push to the side. I felt used, like I was just a sounding board and not a person with feelings. I was ready to unload because here I was, genuinely upset and I just got spoken down to in a super condescending way. Instead, the rational part of my brain kicked in and I just ended the conversation.

I sat on my floor and cried until my 16yo daughter came in and asked me what was wrong. I gave her a high level “I don’t feel good about my pants,” and expected her to flit off to hang out with her friends. Instead, we had a good chat. Instead of sending a scorched Earth rage text, unloading all of the hurt feelings that I had been bottling up for months, I called my doctor for a referral to a dietician, to start antidepressants, and to request more blood work to see if the weight gain was hormonal. I called my therapist. I coldly looked in the mirror and reminded myself that I needed to stop being there for everyone else, and start being there for myself.

I also went on vacation. It was rad.

My life has been made better by Eras Tour

My therapist and I have been unraveling why I hate exercise. We also unraveled why I have been so angry. They explained that my friendships are rarely 50/50. They’re usually 80/20. Basically, I desperately want people to like me, so I let them walk all over me. But I also want to be given the same effort I put out there, and when it’s not reciprocated, I internalize it until I explode. I’m self aware enough to know that being a depressed loser on the brink of a nervous breakdown isn’t really a fun person to be around. But I also know when my friends are in the same situation, I’m there for them. But when it’s me, I generally feel even more isolated and alone because I don’t get that support. But then I just rationalize away until I can’t anymore, but I always feel like I’m doing something wrong by being angry. There’s a lot to work through, but it’s a start.

Also, we did a deep dive as to why I have struggled with exercise, my feelings of failure, and why I feel so down. I miss the feeling of accomplishment when I’d see myself improving, but I also get mad because four years ago I was posting my best running times and my strongest one rep max at the gym. Now I’m back at square one.

I feel like a lot of my life I’m starting all over again. I had to start all over again when I got divorced. I had to start all over again when my landlord sold my old house. I’ve had to start all over again at three different jobs since I quit the most toxic boss in history. Now, the one constant in my life (fitness), I’m starting from the bottom again. Fitness was the one place I felt like I was really good at something, and now I’m not even good at that, and it made me feel worse about myself. For the last three years everything has felt so out of control. I haven’t felt like I was good at anything. If I had been a better salesperson, maybe I wouldn’t have gone into debt trying to save my home. If I had been a better parent, maybe my teenager wouldn’t be mentally ill. If I had treated my body better, maybe I wouldn’t have nearly died. Fitness was all I had and now, I don’t even feel like I really have that.

So, now I’m trying to take control. I make it a point to fill my Apple Watch rings every day. I go for a walk every night. Small steps in the right direction. Once I feel ready, go back to the gym. Some days I literally have to force myself to get up and work out. But I remind myself that no one ever got healthier laying in a rut. But those days I have to literally drag myself out of bed with no motivation are still better than days I’m doing literally nothing.

I make sure to get out of my house and enjoy my life. I even went on a date; it was awful, and I am pretty sure I went out with Reddit, but I still went and put myself out there. I have one cheat meal a week. I take my anti depressants. I pet my cats and spend time with my kids. Most importantly, I clean my house. No matter how shitty I feel, I clean my house. That way, no matter what happens, I have one productive win because I cleaned my house. It’s not much, but it’s a decent start.

I genuinely don’t know if this is the time it’ll stick and I’ll finally get to a point where I don’t have to start over again from the beginning. Even if it’s not, I owe it to myself to keep trying to get healthier, even if it means starting all over again…again.

The Great War

Have you ever looked in the mirror and not even recognized yourself anymore?

That’s how I feel. I don’t even recognize this person anymore. This year has been so challenging and it’s pretty much stripped away all of my best qualities, to the point where I feel like a tired old lady just ready to live with my cats and wither into dust. My finances are a mess, thanks to layoffs and lesser paying jobs, and the lack of child support. Every time I have to say no, I just feel bad. Parents should be able to afford a Slurpee, or a trip to McDonald’s, without counting all of the crack change. I should be able to send my eleventh grader lunch money. I should be able to go shopping for cute winter clothes. But instead, I’m always saying “next time,” and I know deep down they resent me because next time never comes. I’ve cut out everything that brings me any semblance of joy except for my morning cup of tea and even then, I don’t get one three days a week because I was putting money away for Xmas. I haven’t been to the gym in forever but I never picked up my shoes. I felt like if I did, it was defeat, that I would never go back. I don’t go out with my friends. Hell, I barely text. Also, if you’re my friend, I’m sorry I suck at communicating. I hate my weight, my hair, my skin, everything about my appearance and I just feel like I’ve failed at pretty much everything. It’s been a struggle to get out of bed some days. The cup isn’t half full or half empty; it’s just empty.

I suppose the last two years has taken its toll. There’s only so much you can give of yourself before you have nothing left, like the giving tree. And it’s only so long before you snap. I had two of those moments. The first one was when I needed coverage at work for a family emergency and I was told there was no one. Something in my brain snapped. For years I helped EVERYONE. Needed a shift covered? MHC. Needed help with staffing? MHC. Sick days? psh! I ONLY TOOK ONE DAY OFF FROM WORK WHEN I ALMOST DIED! And yet, the universe said “no one wants to go to where you are,” while I cried at work needing help. I called one of my colleague friends and bawled because he is an Angel sent from God. He found me some help and I could go home. But the whole way I was enraged. I loved my colleagues. I’m forever grateful to my DM for giving me a job, but I realized in that second I was right back where I was last year; trapped in a job I had to devote every second of myself to. I wanted to give my DM that person, but I don’t have it in me to give anymore. She deserves a top performer who can give her that level of buy in.

So I quit.

I found a new job with a living salary and more work life balance. I gave my notice and starting next month, I can stop selling phones once and for all and do a job that allows me to use my skills; training, development, and support. I’m excited. I was shocked I got it tbh. Do you know how many awesome candidates are looking for work? And I’m just me. But it’s a much needed change. I’ll be able to see my kids and clean my house. Maybe pet my cats. Maybe go on more dates and finally see my friends. I haven’t hung out with one of my best friends since July. It sucks dude. It’s gonna be nice to do stuff with my people again starting with the annual holiday party.

But, that was just one moment of clarity, the other came when I was a casualty of the Great War, AKA the battle to see my Lord and Saviour, Taylor Allison Swift.

I haven’t been anywhere in years. I couldn’t even go to my friend’s wedding. My kids are tired from school, teen pressures, and helping take care of their grandma when I’m at work. They deserved a trip. The opening act (Gracie Abrams) is my 15yo’s fave non Taylor performer. So I socked away every cent I had for nosebleeds. I gave up every minor luxury I have, banked the rest. I knew the tour was coming and I was going to come through. I had Verified Fan access that was supposed to carry me to the presale. I would use my income tax refund for flight and hotel, and for once, I wasn’t gonna say no. I was going to give them this one thing for Xmas and our Taycation was going to be magical. Instead, I got this.

My heart broke as the tire fire known as ticketmaster shut me out. I went to stubhub only to have my life ruined. My tiny little amount for our four shitty nosebleeds couldn’t even cover one ticket, let alone four. I had to say no again. No Taycation. No happy kids at Xmas that mom came through. Just another time I had to disappoint them. Between my work schedule, and my bank balance, and the realization that I wasn’t coming through for them, my brain broke again.

I COMPLETELY understand this is a first world issue. I am well aware that not taking my kids to see Taylor Swift won’t ruin my life. But it was just another no. Another “not this time.” I know it wasn’t my fault, and Ticketmaster is the dirt worst, but suddenly all of those times I had to say no flooded my brain; the slurpees, the tacos, the new shirt, that used CD, the discounted book, the hair dye, all of it. Every next time, or I’m sorry we don’t have it, every one just flashed through my eyes like a death scene in a movie, ending with the emptiness that this concert that meant so much to them was now, just another no. So I sat in my car and cried. I’d tell myself it’ll be okay, but we all know it’s not. It’s another thing I couldn’t do while the parents around me take their kids to Mexico for spring break and buy concert tickets for good grades. I moved them to a more affluent area and sometimes barely make rent, but I did it so they’d get a better education. But now they see how much more their friends parents can do for them. They’re good kids. They get good grades. They help at home, and are good to their friends and cats. But I let them down spectacularly every day and it just sucks.

After I was done my crying and generally being miserable, wallowing in how 2022 has been the absolute worst. It challenged me physically, mentally, and I’ve lost so much financially and I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I used to take so much pride in my appearance, in my work ethic, and in my life. Now, I just don’t care. I dug a hole and I couldn’t get out. Getting a new job is awesome, but I need to fix me or I’m just transferring the misery. So, I got to work. I deep cleaned my house. I started working out at home. I called a credit counsellor to work through my debt, whether it’s through a debt management program or a consumer proposal. It sucks, but it’s what I need to do. If I don’t have to stress about money as much, little things won’t get to me, and there will be fewer instances of no. I started getting up earlier and actually wearing makeup again. I started going to bed at a reasonable time. Also, I started forgiving myself for the things I’ve been beating myself up about. I can’t change that I got laid off. I can’t fix that I put on weight because I couldn’t work out for five months. I can’t change the fact that Ticketmaster sucks. But what I can do is change my situation. I can keep watching stubhub and seat geek for cheap resale tickets. I can keep an eye for Canadian dates. I can make time to work out. I can focus on budgeting smarter with the help of the counsellor. That will help me have more money to go to the gym and say yes to a few of those smaller things. I can go into my new job motivated and excited. I can continue to focus on being a present and active parent. These are things I can change.

While the answers aren’t ideal, at least there feels like a light at the end of the tunnel, except for the Taylor Swift tickets. That shit is just hopeless. But I will be able to look in the mirror in a few months and recognize who I’m looking at, and maybe even like that person too.

I Bet You Think About Me

Well y’all. Another year is over, although it feels like Marchvember 57 of 2020. It’s been an interesting year. I quit my job and found a workplace that’s collaborative and full of leaders who want to see everyone grow together. I put my mental health first and took steps to get as healthy as possible. I took steps to improve my physical wellness so I can get back on the weight loss train. I’m excited to be my best self again. As always, I compiled a photo essay of my fave memories (excluding my children). If you ever want to watch my ridiculous life in real time, follow my dumb ass on Snapchat!

Happy holidays everyone and I’ll have more adventures in 2022!

Peace out toxic job

When my house finally got grass

Best birthday cake!

That time I chopped off all of my hair

It’s Time To Go

Well y’all; I did a thing. I quit my job.

You’re probably wondering why I would quit my job after five years and have devoted almost every second of energy towards. So, let me answer! I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about how I can get back to a version of me I’m really happy with. One of the things holding me back was a lack of work life balance. My job was smothering me. I was giving so much to everyone, but in return I wasn’t getting a whole lot. I had to miss the last day of school, and the last time the three kids walked home together and it super sucked. I was reaching a level of professional dissatisfaction that I could no longer ignore, but I was trying to because I loved the company, my clients, and my colleagues. Then a line of professionalism was crossed, and I realized that while I was working so hard to be a good teammate, I wasn’t seen as a teammate by one person, I was seen as someone you didn’t need to treat with basic respect. I wasn’t being respected by a person who’s respect I should have earned through my work performance. I was giving so much of myself to a job that wasn’t giving me anything back in return but migraines, stress, and exacerbated PCOS symptoms. I was only staying for my women’s program, my colleagues, and charity work. I was worn out, exhausted, and I didn’t like going to work anymore.

The world has a way of helping you realize that where one person won’t appreciate you; others will. Some former colleagues and friends suggested me for another company. The company contacted me and offered me a job with work life balance, better financial security, and the opportunity to build a philanthropy program that was ethical and did more than just raise money, but rather empower employees to do more for their communities. I loved my colleagues, but I’d be stupid not to see that this is better for me. I’d have time to be a mom, more time for my mom, and more time to live my life, instead of just work.

Chasing someone’s approval, whether it’s a partner, a friend, or a boss that will never see your value, will always suck the life out of you. Over the last few years, I’ve seen my confidence diminish to the point where I’m afraid to do anything. I am afraid if I go to the gym, I’ll just mess up and not do well. My self esteem is in the toilet. I’m always tired. You always hear about how the wrong manager or the lack of validation at work can run an employee ragged and it would bleed into the rest of their lives. This was me. I took extra shifts, I was the first to volunteer for projects, I participated on calls, and helped my colleagues. I kept trying and trying only to end most of my evaluations in tears and apologizing for minor things. I loved my job. I loved the company. But after I got off of the phone with my new boss, I felt more valued than I had in years. I’m excited to unplug. No more late night messages about what worked, no more calls on my day off. My days off are mine, which means I can go to the gym, I can go to the beach (which I did), I can go to a movie without my phone blowing up. And above all, I feel optimistic about my work life for the first time in forever.

So, while it broke my heart to leave a job where I got to work with so many amazing people and help the clients I’ve worked with for so many years, I had to start thinking my mental health and my needs. I’ve spent five years devoting myself to what was best for the company, but never what was best for me. So, while it wasn’t something I had planned, I made a choice that was best for me.

Despite my love for my company and colleagues and team, when I left, I felt relieved and like thirty pounds of stress was gone. I’ll miss my colleagues and team, but it’s been so much easier to get up, exercise, and enjoy my week without that feeling of walking on eggshells wondering if today was the day I’d end up crying at work again. This week has been the most peaceful and relaxing week I’ve had in years. I’m actually looking forward to going to work again instead of sitting in my car for ten minutes just psyching myself up to go into the building or dreading answering my phone. For the first time since the start of the pandemic, I feel optimistic about my life.

I never realized just how much space my job took in my life until I realized my life had no space because of my job. Now, my new job holds a space in my life, but so does my family, so does fitness (even though I’ve been afraid of failing at the gym), so do my friends, and a social life, which is how it should be. There’s a good lesson here, which is that I can’t allow myself to let my job take over my life and I can’t keep giving my whole self to try and win the approval of people who are never going to give me that. I’ve done this in my personal life and now in my professional life. However, I also learned that even if one person doesn’t see your worth, doesn’t mean others are missing it too. I’m so grateful for the number of colleagues, team members (past and present), managers from other districts, and even HR, who reached out to thank me for my work, my contributions to the company, and wish me well. Those are the people who worked on the floor with me, knew me on a personal level, and saw my commitment. I’m so grateful for them and their friendship.

So, while I’m nervous to start something new, as it’s been awhile since I did that (which is weird, I used to do it all of the time), I’m also really excited for a change. Things haven’t been working the way they were and now I’m excited to take on a completely new job and do something different. I’m excited to grow my career and reduce my waistline. But I’m most excited to find the best version of myself that I’ve been so determined to find again. So, much like every other time I’ve made a change to embrace something new, I’m excitedly optimistic about what experiences I’ll have and lessons I’ll learn.

Titans

2021 is just 2020 with bangs and can fuck all the way off.

I mentioned recently that I’ve been going through some health challenges as a result of a hormone imbalance. I’ve gained a bunch of weight, my hair is thinner, I’m always exhausted, and I’m moody, as well as a litany of symptoms I’m not comfortable sharing. I’m always depressed and I cry way too much. I assumed it was a quick fix, get some medication, life goes on. But after two ultrasounds, pleading with my doctor to stress, and blood test after blood test, I now know what’s wrong. I have PCOS combined with a disorder called endometrial hyperplasia, and need a biopsy to determine if this is typical hyperplasia (which just requires medication) or atypical (which means a higher risk of cancer, and a possible need for a hysterectomy). It’s a lot to deal with when I’ve already got my mom in the hospital, switching locations and building a new team, and my normal priorities of raising a family. It’s a lot to handle and it’s honestly freaking me out a bit.

I’m sure I’m fine, and I’ll take some medication, my hair will grow back (and drive my stylist nuts), and all will be well. But there’s still the fact that 30% of women develop endometrial cancer from this. Biopsy is a very scary word. If I require surgery, I need to take time off from work. I’m barely making ends meet as it is. Who will take care of the girls if I’m laid up from major surgery? Who will take care of my mom? Worst case scenario, if I am one of that 30%, and something happens to me, will the girls be okay? I already have a plan in place where my best friend would step in as guardian for the girls, but the thought of them living without an active parent scares me. I lost a parent when I was young and it was traumatic. The girls have already been through a lot with their dad barely being present in their lives. So, I focus on staying active, healthy, and present. It’s all I can do during situations like this.

There’s also the reality that I’m going through this alone. I’m fortunate enough to have great friends; for example, my best friend is going to come with me when I get my biopsy. My other friend has been hella supportive. But I’m still really scared. I’m not going to scare the kids, and I feel like expected to have a big brave face all of the time. But when I’m alone with my thoughts at night, I’m stuck with the pressure of knowing if something does go wrong, the house of cards I’ve spent ten years building to make a home for my family all collapses. I’m actually mad at my body right now. Like, how dare it decide not to cooperate with me and stay healthy. Doesn’t it understand how many people depend on us? The kids, my mom, my job; they all depend on us! I want to scream at myself that we simply cannot afford to be sick or need surgery; too many people rely on me to take care of them!

If I’m down and out from surgery, who will keep my house clean and the kids fed? Who will drive them to school? Who will do the reporting at work? Who will pick my mom up from the hospital? How will I get home from the hospital if I can’t drive? These questions always amplify my occasional loneliness. If I had a partner, these things wouldn’t be an issue. But then I remember that if I was still married, these things would still be a problem. He’d be too busy yelling at me and the kids to help, and I’d probably have to bus home post-op because he had more pressing things to do, like get drunk (just like when I was pregnant). I’d much rather deal with these issues as a solo act, even if it does make it harder.

There’s also the vanity aspect. I have always felt at least a little bit attractive, but now I just feel…old…fat…ugly. My hair is always dry. I have no energy and I miss running and CrossFit and I feel like I’ve hit the wall and all that’s left is becoming an old hag. I have a complicated relationship with my mom. One of the reasons is she gave up on life when my dad died and let herself age poorly, which affected her health. I was obsessed with taking care of my body and skin so this wouldn’t happen to me, but now I’m afraid I’ll age 20 years overnight & my pipe dreams of meeting someone and being in a healthy relationship has gone up in smoke even more. Is this rational? No. Being healthy should be what comes first. But liking yourself should mean something too and this whole experience has really shed a light on how much I do not like myself right now. I’m scared, angry, and sad & it hella sucks.

One thing I always tell my kids when things suck is to focus on changing the things you have control over. I have no control over what’s happening to my body right now. But I do have control over what I put in by eating well, exercising, and getting proper sleep. I can make sure I have a proper will in place so my chosen guardian for the kids is in place. I can make sure I perform well at work so I can stress less about my financials. I can meditate and see my therapist to stay calm. I can engage with my new team and help them thrive. And I can figure out the rest as it happens. It’s the only thing I can do right now, so that’s what I’ll do. Obsessing about everything that can go wrong will only make everything worse, and I’m already scared enough. The best way to combat anxiety is to just breathe and focus on what’s fixable, and then deal with the rest when it comes. It’ll keep my fears and insecurities and other feelings at a manageable level until the next step comes.

Just Awake

Oh, Hello!

It’s been awhile, eh?

Truthfully, I haven’t really had much to discuss. When everything is closed, there’s not much to do. Not much to do means not much to discuss. So, I’m just living my life. Normally, I go out of my way to put a positive spin on everything, but y’all, I’m tired.

I’m in the middle of moving, as my landlord has opted to list my house, and unfortunately, I’m not in the position to buy right now. 2020 kind of screwed things up for me a bit. It sucks and it’s stressful, but I’m not gonna dwell. I’m just gonna pick myself up and keep on figuring life out. Part of that involves realizing I need to reevaluate my finances. If I want to buy a house, I need to reduce my debt. I also cannot have a high interest car loan. So, I made a decision and traded in my car for a new vehicle with a lower interest rate, aka Wanda 2.0. It wasn’t the plan, I wanted to refinance OG Wanda, but this made more sense as my payments didn’t change and my insurance went down. I’m also figuring out how to pay off my credit cards so I can start saving for the down payment of a house. I was hoping to be able to buy my current house this year, but 2020 happened and 2021 is just 2020 with bangs so it’s not easy. But we’ll get there.

Meet Wanda Maximoff 2.0 (aka a 2021 Hyundai Venue)

But things are tough. Caring for an elderly parent is tough. Stroke recovery takes time. There’s mood swings, good days, bad days, and I’m very alone. My siblings haven’t even checked in with a “how are things” in months. It’s really highlighted how alone I am with this. The kids are juggling school and helping around the house. But parenting three kids on your own while taking care of an elderly parent on your own and balancing work, home, moving, and feeling like things just keep on piling up takes it’s toll. I’m exhausted and depressed. Fortunately I started therapy over the fall and it’s been super helpful. But nothing has been easy and everything just feels a little hopeless. I’m in full caregiver burnout mode y’all. I hate it because sometimes I get irrationally annoyed about little stuff with the kids, who in turn get irrationally annoyed with the next kid down the chain. It’s not fair to anyone and now we’re all sniping at everyone all of the time. Things are tough & I think we’re all feeling a little less hopeful.

One of my best friends keeps telling me that I like to pretend everything is great externally while, in reality, it’s damn hard. Parenting in a pandemic is hard. Caring for an elderly relative is hard. Moving to a completely different part of the city and navigating the bizarre school district and realizing I may not be commuting 4km to work anymore, and balancing it all while having absolutely zero minutes to yourself sucks. I need a vacation, but that’s not really an option either (although I may go hiking in the mountains soon. I need a break lol). I talked to some of my other mom friends and they helped me realize they’re all in the same boat. There’s no magic “super mom” who’s making all of the crafts and sticking to the colour coded lists. We’re just winging it. Possibly while drinking.

I guess the point is that we’re all so busy trying to convince ourselves everything is okay and we are nailing this life thing, and in reality, we probably aren’t. I know I’m not. But I guess I keep shooting myself in the foot, because I want people to think I am, then I’m shocked Pikachu face when I’m alone dealing with whatever is going wrong because I’ve convinced my support system I’m doing great. I can’t be the only one. Maybe 2021 needs to be the year we all stop pretending everything is perfect to impress or for the gram. Maybe we need to be honest and admit it’s not easy and we don’t have everything under control and we are one bad day away from a crying meltdown. We don’t need people to be impressed by our houses or our pretty pictures. We need to support each other.

Basically, if you’re feeling like I am, and like the weight of the world is trying to crush your spirit; you’re not alone. You don’t need to pretend that it’s all great and your kids are perfect online students, your house is clean every second and you aren’t one more tween argument away from sneaking White Claws in the closet. I am right there with you. I’d save you a spot if we were allowed to visit. You’re not alone, everyone’s life is a shitshow right now. Let’s turn off the highlight reels and keep it more real.

Saviour Complex

One thing I’ve learned about living through a pandemic is that when the movie industry assumed 80% of the planet wouldn’t survive the zombie apocalypse, they were correct.

Every time I log into social media, there’s someone talking about how it’s a hoax, or why they aren’t gonna stay home.

  • “My family deserves a big family holiday.”
  • “I’m still throwing a huge birthday party, it’s not fair for me to have to cancel it.”
  • “I refuse to cancel my wedding.”
  • “I shouldn’t have to wear a mask.”
  • “I’m not ruining my Christmas.”

That’s cool guys. But that’s how the zombies win in the movies.

COVID has been particularly scary for me because I have two high risk family members (one of which is one of my children), so we have tried our best to comply. I only go to work, groceries, and to the gym (and even that is sparingly because I work with people). I’ve been out in a restaurant three times in eight months. The kids didn’t get to see their dad this summer. I didn’t get to run my 10k. It’s been awful.

But I do this because I don’t trust people. One dumb dumb can infect my whole family. You read about them all of the time, the dumb dumbs that mask symptoms to go to Disney, or go to the hair salon, or whatever. I do not want to run the risk of making my family sick so I reduce my own risk by staying home as much as possible. I cancelled my annual holiday party long before the new restrictions. Even my dating life has been mindful of restrictions. I went on a first date with a guy in a restaurant, but we planned our second as a river walk with hot chocolate. I wanted to make sure I could continue to get to know someone while reducing risks, because I don’t trust people. Normally, my friends tell me that’s silly. Now, I can confidently say…

I WAS RIGHT. DO NOT TRUST PEOPLE. PEOPLE ARE THE WORST.

This week I got a call from a customer who informed me that while waiting for her test results, she realized she needed to pick up something she had ordered and came into the store instead of waiting. Well, she got her results and she’s got COVID. That item she HAD to have just put my whole family at risk. It put my team at risk. It put the safety of my coworkers and their families at risk. It put a neighbouring store at risk because the beauty treatment couldn’t wait. So many people put at risk because one person didn’t want to isolate.

This meant we all had to get tested. I got to be super stressed while I waited, worrying if I gave my kids COVID because I had to work. Worrying about if I infected my mom who’s been in poor health. Worrying about what would become of my family if I got sick. Who would raise the kids, who would pay the bills, how would we manage? This is terrifying shit. Fortunately, my test was negative. But, there’s a part of me that’s still so freaking mad that someone being completely irresponsible put so many people around me at risk.

I cannot stress this enough; every time you say your family Christmas party is too important to miss, or you don’t need a mask, you are saying “I don’t give a shit if I put you and your family at risk, I don’t want to be mildly inconvenienced.” I don’t want to be mildly inconvenienced either. I don’t enjoy mask wearing, or staying home, or not having company. I hate knowing that if things don’t change, it’ll be another year before the kids can see their grandmother in Ontario. None of this is fun. But, it’s responsible. Getting tested wasn’t fun, but it was important to make sure I wasn’t putting anyone at risk. The world isn’t just about me or you. I get that everyone wants to go to their family Christmas or out for dinner, but every time we don’t listen and just do whatever, things get worse for everyone else and that’s not fair to the people around you. It’s not just you that gets sick. It’s everyone around you. Had I gotten sick, my family could have gotten sick, as well as my coworkers at two different locations (because I drove to pick up a phone), my teenager’s coworkers, and my other customers, some who are elderly or possibly high risk.

The reason everyone in the zombie movies die is because no one thinks about how their actions impact everyone else. They just think about how they alone need to escape instead of working together to stop the zombies, and you know what happens next.

So, before you plan your huge bash at a hotel or go shopping while waiting on COVID results, or post another conspiracy blog, or about how much all of these restrictions suck, think about how most could be avoided if we as a group of people listened the first damn time. Also, make sure you tell your asthmatic friends, or your grandparents that you really don’t care what happens to them, as long as you get to shop without a mask and have friends over for the holidays, because that’s what your actions show.

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