Colder Weather

by maryhelenc, posted in Mommydom, Relationships

Nothing makes one more aware of their mortality than creating one’s Last Will & Testament.

I say I don’t fear death, but I certainly wasn’t fully prepared. As a mom of young children, I have to make sure their rights are protected in case I’m not here. I need to ensure someone is watching their inheritance, their RESP & that someone is their guardian.

Choosing someone to raise your child in case you die is a difficult one. I know many people capable, but I wouldn’t even consider them, not because they wouldn’t do a good job or the like, but because I want someone who is going to give them that parental, unconditional love. I love my daughters, they are amazing & smart & will change the world. They’re also handfuls & some days, even exhausting. There are days I crawl into bed & think “Wow, that was rough, we’ll try again tomorrow.” I have amazing friends, but if you’re not one who wants kids, you might think, even for a split second, “What did I get myself into?”

I know someone who would never ever question what they got themselves into. They would love my girls like their own & protect them as they would their own child & be the best guardian I could ever ask for. I admire them a great deal & I’m fortunate enough to know that if anything happened to me, I could trust them with my children, which is pretty much THE testament of my respect for a person. To know I fully trust you to love & nurture my girls if I can’t do it is the highest praise I can give a person.

I still don’t fear death. I’m not planning to go any time soon, but I’m much more comfortable knowing the girls (& their money) are protected.

Also, if I did name you in my will, please don’t kill me.

The Writer

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

I stumbled across a blog called Grumpy Comments and it has provided me with great amusement (especially with the how to destroy your copy of the Hobbit post). It’s a fun read, I’d suggest checking it out.

But one thing the writer mentioned this week was the idea that when you’re unhappy, you actually can’t remember what it’s like to be happy (found here).

This is something I have thought about before, and it was refreshing to see someone else feels the same way. Sometimes, even when I was the happiest I have ever been, I often would feel a little bit tainted (as the author put it) because I would start to wonder if my own failings as person would somehow destroy my happy little place. Then, when you’re down and those moments where you were happiest seem so far away, you struggle to remember that moment when you actually were happy. You may have amazing things in your life to be happy about, but you’re so down, that sometimes you can’t remember them. I once knew a person who said that they had no idea how to be happy, that even if they wanted it with their heart & mind, one day, without warning, they would feel unhappy and simply abandon whatever pursuit it was that brought them joy instead of addressing why they felt that way. I told them it seemed like such a sad way to live, giving up on something before you’ve ever really begun.

But why do we do this? Why do we self sabotage happiness? Why can’t we enjoy it? Some people just don’t feel worthy of happiness, some of us are so afraid of spoiling the thing that makes them happy that they’d rather walk away from it, and some of us simply have been hurt so many times that our minds reject the very idea that we’ll actually be happy this time. By the time we’ve stopped analyzing, we’ve likely beaten our happiness into the ground.

Perhaps, we need to remind ourselves that we all deserve happiness, even if sometimes we don’t feel like it. We shouldn’t abandon our pursuit of it and we most certainly shouldn’t beat ourselves up if sometimes we question it, as long as we’re not destructive about it. Perhaps if we shift our focus just a little bit and remind ourselves that our happiness is deserved and worth working through our own inability to see it sometimes.

Say Anything

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH General, Fitnesslicious, Seriously WTF?, WWE Wrasslin'

I hate writer’s block.

The research paper is half written and really annoying me. The subject is something I chose and it’s not that I’m lacking for ideas, it’s just not coming together. Instead of APA style, I keep writing in CP style and that won’t do.

It’s no secret that I miss having a regular magazine job, with deadlines and word count and publicity contacts and story meetings. I know that right now, it’s not a plausible option for me right now, but I just keep getting the itch to write something new and have the instant gratification of seeing my byline, etc.

I look to my professional idol, Trish Stratus and how she said she has never gotten the itch to return to wrestling, save for a feud with former WWE mean girls Michelle McCool and Layla El. Otherwise she’s satisfied with her body of work and is happy with her brand, Stratusphere Yoga, which is helping me accomplish my fitness goals. I often wonder why I am never professionally satisfied, why I’m always looking to do more and why I can’t seem to be satisfied with my body of work and settle into something else. Maybe it’s because the opportunities are limitless. There are always things I want to do, people I want to interview, other facets of journalism I want to branch out into.

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This is why instead of writing the research paper, I’m thinking about how cool it would be to interview Ms. Stratus, or any of the judges on the Voice, what angle I could use for these articles, etc.

I think one of the major things that hold me back in life is that everything in my life has a very specific goal at the end. I struggle to settle into my new career path because journalism is my passion, my one true love. My personal life struggles because I have had one outcome, one life in mind and that life, much like my professional life isn’t plausible (nothing is impossible, but right now, everything is implausible). Very few things hold my attention once something has caught it and it’s nearly impossible to divert me. I guess it’s part of that “stop trying to control the universe and let things happen the way they’re meant to, not the way I think they should,” because if that’s how they should, then they will and not much will prevent it from happening in the end. I know I need to do something so I feel fufilled professionally, but it’s not worth investing more time and energy into something that’s just going to be…well, it’s not journalism so meh. I will have to find another day job and another magazine, perhaps in another branch of journalism. Perhaps as I evolve as a stronger person, much more in control of my emotions and much more open about who I am as a person, the specific things I want for my life will all just fall into place the way they’re supposed to. I won’t control the universe, nor will I let it control me. I’ll just let everything unfold as it plays out in front of me and handle things as they come and hope that it all turns out okay.

…and I’ll finally finish this damn research paper.

Time Marches On

by maryhelenc, posted in Just Fun, Mommydom, Relationships

One thing I enjoy most about being a Mom is that I get to watch people who are completely innocent of the world’s bull crappery enjoy life.

It also makes me wonder sometimes exactly what moment do we lose that and become cynical?

This week my six year old daughter endured what should be the most horrifying moment of childhood (to this point); she must wear glasses. At first she was upset, because she thought that meant she was going blind. Then, once I convinced her that she wasn’t going blind and all of the cool evil geniuses wear glasses, she was excited.

My mom started asking questions, such as “what if the other kids make fun of her?” to which she replied “I’ll lock them in the dungeon.” When I pointed out we actually have no dungeon, she replied “Then I don’t care. If people don’t like my super cool glasses, then why should I? I like my new glasses. They’re pink.” I remember when I got my first pair of reading glasses. I was older, but I was so afraid that people would make fun of me. In fact, it wasn’t until late last year that I started wearing them on a regular basis because my youngest told me I looked pretty with them on. Most people I know panicked at the idea of their first pair of glasses, but she didn’t care. She also didn’t care when she walked out the door for school in her neon orange skirt, purple shirt, army green leggings, her staple mismatched socks and a side ponytail. She thought she looked awesome, so she looked awesome.

It’s funny how we all claim we don’t care what people think, but we do secretly. We all (as adults) crave approval from our peers, whether it’s at work, amongst our friends, at school, etc. We dress according to what is “in” and we behave the way people tell us and we pretend that we’re comfortable in our own skin. My good friend and fellow blogger @ the Gleason Table & I were discussing how much nicer the world would be if we were like kids, who just picked whatever we wanted out of the drawer to wear, said what we were thinking as we thought it and solved every problem with a hug and a juice box. It would be much nicer than long and drawn out arguments, hurtful passive aggression or the feeling of not fitting in because we own the wrong pants.

Maybe we should all channel our six year old selves and own who we are, dress ridiculously, be honest about our mistakes, and offer hugs and juice boxes when things go badly. In a sense, we should all smile and learn to love the glasses.

On Your Own

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Douchers, MH vs Dating, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

Once upon a time, in a time that seems like it was a million years ago, I spent every Friday night alone.

I loved it. My girls were in bed and my ex-husband and my best guy friend went to “Country Night” at this divey bar. They would generally drink too much and come home in a cab stupid, but I got to be alone. I would take a hot bath, watch Flashpoint, read a book, go to bed when I wanted (we had a marital rule that we had to go to bed together, always together. Blargh). It was lovely.

Fast forward to the separation and those random moments when we tried to be friends and I was free of the control and I would go to leave his apartment after we argued about something yet again and he would always say “Don’t go. You don’t know what it’s like to be alone. No one calls, no texts, nothing. The silence is horrible.” It wasn’t anger or control, it was mind numbing terror. He sounded so horrified, so sad, like the idea of another night by himself actually pained him. I remembered when we first split, his mother said to me “You will never understand what it is like to be so…alone.” Same thing, the terror. Even my friends would ask me how I intended to deal with being alone and they sounded scared.

Back in the summer, when I felt like things were horrible in my life and I was scraping together enough money to throw my child a decent birthday party, I ended up at his apartment. Not for any reason, except that I wanted to talk to him, rekindle our old friendship, for the girls and because I felt so completely alone. It ended horribly; we fought, I cried so hard. I ended up back @ home after a few hours feeling so small and meek. My friends were screaming @ me asking me why I’d go back there, etc. Truthfully, I just didn’t want to feel alone anymore. So, the past few months, I was afraid of feeling that weird alone place that everyone makes sound so horrifying, so I’ve been trying to spend as much time with people as possible, to avoid that feeling of alone, helpless, quiet.

However, I’m slowly learning that’s why I’m not really an equal in any of my relationships with people. Because I’m so afraid of being isolated from the people I care about, I will do anything to avoid people walking out of my life. I’ll whine, beg, act like an ass and ruin all of my interpersonal relationships. It’s not anyone’s fault; human nature is to use the tools we have to get what we want. If we feel slighted, we will use someone’s Achilles heel to achieve the desired result of “getting your own way.” We all do it, whether we want to admit it or not. However, about a week or two ago, I got thinking about the moment I feared being alone. Yes, isolation has always been used against me, as it was an oft-used childhood punishment, but during my younger years, I would fall off the grid for days, weeks, just because I wanted to veg out. If someone got mad @ me, I would apologize if it was justified and otherwise it was “oh well, if the friendship meant something, we’ll talk it out when they calm down and we’ll both get our feet out of our mouths.” It wasn’t until I heard the terror in the voices of grown men and women, that being alone was so horrifying, that you’ll eventually be driven mad by it.

So, I stopped.

I only replied to a few text messages. I stopped leaving my house except for school. I stopped calling people. I cancelled yet another date. I just sat at home. I watched TV (Chicago Fire is pretty awesome), but most importantly, I didn’t die.

In fact, it wasn’t so bad at all.

Maybe being alone isn’t so terrifying. Maybe it’s just what is. I don’t NEED to be around people to feel sane, because it’s not the end of the world to be alone. I don’t need to constantly be around people every single second of my life, inundating them with chatter or reaching out because otherwise I’ll be in this horrible void of nothingness known as the big, bad…alone.

I’ll just be learning to relax, which honestly, would do me a world of good.

Storm

by maryhelenc, posted in Crazy Talk, Dear Blank, Douchers, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Relationships, Seriously WTF?, When Things Suck Hard

Normally I write drivel for what I believe is your amusement. Today, I’m writing for myself, to accept a part of me that I’ve hidden (unsuccessfully) for years; my battle with depression.

Throughout my life, I have struggled with depression. I attempted to kill myself @ 10 years old. I stopped eating for a spell in high school when a teacher said I had an “above average weight” (ironically enough, the student she called “fatty” is the one that helped me through it). I let my self esteem deteriorate after two abusive relationships, one in which I was raped & beaten, the marriage where I was told I was fat, ugly & worthless & my only value was to be degraded sexually. I developed PPD after the births of my children. I miscarried three different times and each time I lost my mind. The last two years have been a roller coaster of events, all of which have affected my coping skills. My marriage ended & for the first time in my life, I was on my own & I had never even gone grocery shopping without my ex-husband! I went back to school, jumping into a career path I didn’t think through. I met someone and I fell in love. But with great power comes great responsibilty. I had never had to make choices for myself and I was afraid of messing them up. I was uneasy w/ my academic choice. I had never formed close connections with people before. So, I let my boyfriend walk all over me because I loved him and wanted him to feel safe and understood. I wanted to make him happy, so I kept putting my wants below anything he wanted. I let my friends walk all over me, because I was afraid I’d lose my support system. While I was doing this, I was making myself second best. My friends & my former boyfriend were wonderful and never made me feel unloved or not special, but when they would do something that annoyed me, I would clam up, because I was afraid they would cut me out. I would have trusted these people with my life, but not to remain a part of it and my former boyfriend always wanted to know why I would get overly upset about small things or randomly get super clingy, then flip. He wanted to understand, but the truth was, I didn’t know why. I explained certain things that contributed, but the underlying fear, I honestly couldn’t explain and I was afraid “I don’t know” wouldn’t be enough.

As the months went on, I grew more anxious. I sucked in school. My journalism career was going nowhere. My eldest daughter needed counselling, I bounced a bunch of bill payments and I felt like I was failing. I didn’t have a steady income and I was buried under debt. The final straw? My relationship ended and I broke under the pressure. I moped, because the real problems kept piling up and I felt like I was drowning under a sea of bad choices. I just kept thinking; Why law? Why didn’t you think this through? Why does she have to be on a waiting list, help my kid! Why can’t I help my kid? Why can’t I find a job? Why do I have no motivation to keep my house in order? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! I had never had to face crisis situations alone, I always had a partner who took control & now it was all on me & I felt like I was doing it all wrong. I was afraid of being judged, labelled crazy or viewed as a liability to the people in my life. I lived in this fishbowl, and I wanted so badly to be the Superwoman persona I made for myself. Superwoman isn’t depressed.

Things improved; my relationship resumed and I was so happy and yet so terrified, because I saw how easily he could leave. I was offered a position @ a new magazine that would allow me to do what I loved full time & I finally felt like I had made it as a writer. But, I was still flailing. I had to do everything I didn’t do when I was busy being miserable & situations were escalating & tense. I didn’t talk about the huge problems because I wanted to do it alone so badly, so I focused on the smallest problem, because I thought if I could fix something little, I could finally feel like I could tackle the growing mountain of laundry and debt (which my counsellor told me is very normal for those who suffer with anxiety). Because I was so skittish in my relationship, I would make mistakes, and I again let him walk all over me. I didn’t say the thing I needed to say, which was that I was scared he’d walk out again any second & please work with me on this so we’re both comfortable. I couldn’t because I thought he’d feel like I was punishing him and he’d leave, which he did. Then I had the guilt of my youngest daughter asking for her best friend, my eldest daughter’s anger at me for making him go away, my middle daughter crying because she loved him & wanted him to be with us…and it was my fault. I hated myself because they were so hurt & when I tried to fix it, I displaced aggression (some justified, some not) and made it worse, strained all of my friendships & I felt like nothing.

My law career continued to flounder; I kept getting the run around at my job. For every major victory (helping my eldest child, finalizing my divorce and removing government prescence from my life), there was a setback someplace else. Suddenly, I felt like all of those insults my ex-husband hurled @ me were validated in my mind. Look, MH couldn’t keep it together! She lost her direction, her boyfriend, her friends and she’s no role model for her daughters. I grew so dependent on everyone to try and help make it okay while pretending I was okay, which of course was a façade that all of my closest friends saw through and grew to resent me, and I grew passive aggressive because I had spent so long feeling like I gave more than I got that I couldn’t see that they were trying to help me. Suddenly, I was the person that I despised. So, I made phone calls, my best friends told me off (which I thank them for, sometimes we need a good kick in the ass to help us realize how far we’ve let ourselves sink. No one ever thinks of how much we’re hurting the people we love most when we’re consumed with sadness, and sometimes it takes them to throw it in your face to help you see that you’re impacting their lives too) and I had a good cry. I realized I had become that thing I used to be; weak, sad, and unable to focus and sometimes even hurtful to people I love. I talked to my doctor and we took an assessment and I suffer from clinical depression and anxiety disorder. I wanted so badly to be in control of my life for the first time ever, that I would have panic attacks when things went wrong. But I wasn’t getting help to get them under control, so the attacks would get worse and last longer until I was living in this constant string of anxiety and fear. My counsellor said I was likely subconsciously pushing everyone away because I hated who I was becoming and I wanted all of these people that I loved so much to leave me alone so they wouldn’t have to put up with me anymore. I was self-sabotaging, because I thought they deserved better than me, so I would subconsciously do things to make them cut me out…only when they left, I felt more broken, because I missed them. Now, I’ve got a plan. Between anti-anxiety medication, exercise, working with a dietician & individual and group counselling, I’m going to finally be the person I’m supposed to be.

Why am I writing this? Because it’s a part of me and I need to accept it. The reason my life is such a mess is because I refused to just admit I needed help, take responsibility and be open. I put up walls so people would think I was invincible. I didn’t trust the people I loved that I felt so overwhelmed with my life that sometimes it felt like I was smothering because everyone said they admired the facade & every time they said they admired me, I wanted to scream “WHY?! I’M THE LAST PERSON YOU SHOULD LOOK UP TO EVER LOOK @ WHAT I’VE DONE TO MY LIFE!” I alienated everyone because I couldn’t just say:

“I’m scared that I can’t do this. I’m scared I’m going to ruin everything and mess up my girls and go broke and never make the effort to be a good housekeeper. I’m scared that I’m not a good friend or partner or parent & a drain on you & that I’m putting too much pressure on all of you & I’ll end up pushing you away. I’ve never been on my own and I want to make the right choices but it scares me to make them. Every time I have to I get scared that I’m doing the wrong thing and the things I’m sure about I keep mucking up. I don’t know why I’m so unhappy, please don’t think I’m insane & please still love me while I make myself better.”

As a writer, I say there should be no stigma, but for over a year (& most of my life), I’ve been so ashamed of knowing I would go through months of sadness & pick an arbitrary reason because the honest truth is, I couldn’t even tell you why I get this way. Part of me hopes maybe I won’t feel like I’m alone, that maybe by finally saying the words I’ve held in, I’ll be able to value myself like I do the people I love…and I’ll finally be a role model for my girls. This is why I often write about the idea that no one is too broken to be loved by someone; it’s my greatest wish…for myself.

Maybe I just martyred myself, or gave people fodder to laugh and for once, I don’t care. I NEED to make myself accountable to follow through with treatment. So, my name is Mary-Helen and I’m a journalist who works in a law office and I also struggle with mental illness. I won’t be magically cured by a pill, but it’s going to help. I’m sometimes going to struggle, sometimes I’m going to cry about nothing and self-sabotage and get lost in meloncholy. But I’m going to also work every day for the rest of my life to make that stop and while I’m not okay right now, I will be.

For The Nights I Can’t Remember

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH Photography, Dorkdom, Mommydom, My New Life As Me

“Mommy, why do you take so many photos?”

My 6yo asked me this today after I took about four photos of her in line waiting for the Easter Bunny. I told her its because she’s so pretty. But I do take a million pictures & showcase them on my various social networking sites (FB, Twitter, Instagram).

The reason is simple. The Notebook.

***Before you start with “God Dammit MHC, haven’t you drawn enough parallels to the Notebook,” hear me out***

The idea that I could end up forgetting my entire life freaks me out. I couldn’t imagine having ALS & forgetting the moments I hold most dear. Almost all of my favourite gifts to give are photos. They adorn my walls. I gave my one of my best friends a photo frame with every photo of her & her wife for Xmas. I gave another a frame for his desk of all of us when he got a new shift. My girls once made a book full of photos for someone they loved. When you look @ photos, you’re instantly transported back to that memory (I do the same thing with music. Certain songs remind me of certain moments & will always be attributed to that moment. I mentioned a few in a previous post.)

Not to mention there are so few photos of my childhood. No birthdays, no school photos, nothing. My childhood is a traumatic blur. I don’t want my daughters to have the same thing. I want them to laugh @ their baby photos & look back on trips to the park, old friends, etc. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to look back on my childhood & remember anything good, because there isn’t a single photo to remind me.

Bad memories linger like scabs we pick at while good ones fade to the background. That’s why photos are so important. It’s easy to forget that day at the park playing in the water, that hilarious time you goofed off in class, or that trip to the art gallery, but the fights linger on.

So, I take as many photos as possible so I can remember all of those days & nights & random moments that would otherwise fade to the back of my mind. Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m going to get old & my mind will weaken & some of the moments that I hold dearest will fade. That is why I take so many pictures, so that I’ll have them, long after the moment is gone.

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Who Knew

by maryhelenc, posted in Dorkdom, My New Life As Me, Seriously WTF?

As part of my never ending quest to feel less blah, I decided to take a Career Aptitude Test!

I answered 485 questions of awesomeness. They ranged from my intergity, poise, intellect, promptness, etc.

I'm going to post some of the my answers, because they are amazeballs.
I’m going to post some of the my answers, because they are amazeballs.

So, I spent 25 minutes answering these various questions, in the hopes that maybe I could find a super cool new career that would help me find some sort of direction.

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I was so excited to find out what my super cool new career path would be.

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And I got the results!

It took 485 questions for you to figure that out test? My friends could have told you that in 1/2 a second!
It took 485 questions for you to figure that out test? My friends could have told you that in 1/2 a second!

My ideal job: MEDIA relations!

So…what I learned (aside from the fact that I will never get that 25 minutes of my life back), is that maybe I actually do know what I’m doing. Maybe the problem isn’t that I’m on the wrong path, it’s that I know all of the answers, it’s just waiting for the answers to work themselves out that’s frustrating me. Maybe I have a lack of patience…or a lack of follow-through. Maybe I just need to be smarter and start looking for media positions that will help me grow as a writer, not keep me stagnant. Maybe I need to pursue a different type of journalism. Maybe I need to start taking some risks with my writing, which will pull me out of the professional doldrums.

Maybe the problem is just that I rely too much on wanting the world to bend to what I want on my time, in my way in a tangible way that I understand, when in reality, sometimes you just have to let things figure themselves out on their own. I’m in this constant fight to control every little thing that goes on around me in the hopes that I can maintain some sort of independence, but in reality, all I’m doing is pulling myself further into the sinkhole because the world doesn’t work that way. My hippie friend always tells me that sometimes I have to trust that my gut instincts are right and stop doubting that things are coming together because I cannot see them coming together and we have to have faith that the universe will put everything as it should be when it’s supposed to, not when Princess MH demands it. Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I need to work on being patient and letting things happen as they should, not because I’m growing antsy. Maybe I should trust my gut instincts instead of allowing things like aptitude tests and even the opinions of those around me influence my path and start carving out the life I want for myself and my daughters. Maybe I should start trusting my own judgment instead of constantly hoping those around me approve. Maybe?

Paralyzed

by maryhelenc, posted in ASH General, Current Events, Douchers, Mommydom, My New Life As Me, Political Fluff, Quotable Quotes and Potpourri, Seriously WTF?

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Ummmm…this is sort of true.

I understand that Mr. Warren speaks about same sex marriage, but the idea itself is not wrong.

He’s wrong because LGBT isn’t a lifestyle, it’s simply who one is, so his quote doesn’t apply there, but everyone has a different style of life. Smoking marijuana is part of a lifestyle, so is eating healthy. Some of the people I love do these things. Caffeine is a staple of my lifestyle.

I have convictions & a moral centre. I believe promises must always be kept, & I try my best to keep them. I think if you gave your word, you have to do whatever it takes to keep it, even if it hurts for awhile (hence the fatal flaw). I believe that sex is a serious act that must only be given in love & if you have been given that, it’s because I genuinely thought that you were the person I was going to spend my life with. I believe in honesty, kindness & that anger is stupid, to the point that when goaded into anger, I will actually break down into sobs because I just hate anger. But those are my convictions, & apply only to me.

The people I love most in this world do not agree with my convictions, & I do not love them any less, nor do they love me any less. The difference is that we are not trying to pass laws to make what we think is “right” the social norm.

You don’t have to compromise your convictions, but your convictions are not “better” than anyone else’s. if you disagree with the stoner lifestyle, don’t do drugs. If you do not like the idea of working moms, don’t work. But please remember that those should only apply to your family, your life. Also, remember that you did not make the choice to be straight, nor is it a “lifestyle.” If you don’t want to marry someone of the same sex, or anyone, you don’t have to! You also don’t have to eat flax bread! But remember, there are people who enjoy flax bread & they might want to marry someone of the same sex. The flax bread is the lifestyle choice, the other isn’t.

So, remember, everyone has a moral code. No two are the same. Lets respect all convictions, not just the ones we understand.