After a crazy 30 days of packing, cleaning, and saying goodbye to all of my best friends, I got on a plane with my fiancé, kids, and cats, and flew back to Ontario. We even managed to squeeze in one last trip to Rogers Place to see my beloved Oilers before our Stanley Cup hopes and dreams were dashed.
I’d love to tell you that everything went smoothly and I’m now safely tucked away in my new town and all is well.
LOL I actually had a nervous breakdown.
Kudos to my fiancé and one of my best friends, who had to lead me out of my old house and to the airport with my kids in the backseat and my cats on their laps while I sobbed that the house cleaner didn’t mop the floors and I just wanted to mop my floors and sit in my house for just a few minutes more. I know it was just a rental. But it was my home and I truly wanted to stay there forever. Instead I had to vacate my job and move across the country while my life was completely out of my control. After we arrived at home, I bawled uncontrollably until I finally fell asleep to the sound of my fiancé promising me that our lives together would be magical. The loss of my home and job ruined me in ways no one can imagine. My life is so uncertain. I’m job hunting but I don’t have a position yet. I don’t know when I’ll be getting my things. I don’t know anyone yet and I’m worried about pulling my own weight. I don’t want my partner to have to pay all of our bills. I haven’t figured out how to transfer my mom to a long term care facility in Ontario. Things are uncertain. I don’t like not being in control and nothing is really in my control. So I help out around the house and wait for my car to arrive.
Also I found a kick ass new salon. They aren’t Icon Downtown Edmonton, but they’re really great
But I guess this has been a good lesson for me to learn to surrender control and really allow someone to support me. Even though I’m getting married in the fall, I struggled with letting my partner help and support me. I like doing everything on my own and I hate relying on a man for everything. Now I’m basically as emotionally fragile as a baby bird and the idea of making a decision of any kind sends me into a panic attack, which means my partner has to pick up the slack. He booked the flights, arranged for my car to be shipped to our new hometown, spoke with my former landlords (who again, are wonderful. This situation has been extremely traumatic and heartbreaking, but I am not here for any negativity towards them), and helping us feel comfortable. He had to step up for me while I have been useless. I cry, try to adjust to my new time zone, hunt for jobs, and sleep. Meanwhile he works, assembles furniture, makes dinner, and comforts me while I try to pick up the pieces of my life and figure out how to feel like a member of the family and not a helpless damsel in distress.
I’ve always tried to make sure my life isn’t just a highlight reel and this is no different. I’m not having a good time. I truly loved Edmonton, my home, and my job. I’ve always defined myself by my job, my work ethic and now I don’t have that. I want to contribute to my household and pay bills and have a purpose. I feel very lost and unsure of what to do next. But all is not lost. I have a lot to be grateful for. I live in a beautiful home in a lovely community. I am fortunate that he can support us until I can find work. I have friends in Ontario I’m looking forward to connecting with. I get to go for walks and join a gym and live a healthier lifestyle. My front yard is a beach. There are worse places to land when your life falls apart than a lake house where your partner makes you breakfast in bed and dotes on you while you regain your sanity. So, while things feel broken, eventually I’ll wake up and not feel like I’m two hours behind, and like I’m exactly where I need to be.
I know it’s been a hot minute, but 2025 started off busy af. First my dishwasher decided it was time to die on the battlefield, work has been ramping up, and then everyone in my house got the flu. It’s been rad. But with everything comes a silver lining. New dishwasher, everyone has recovered, and work is still busy, but I adore my job so it’s okay.
I’ve also been busy planning my wedding. When you live halfway across the country from your partner, planning a wedding can be annoying. Let’s be honest; planning a wedding is always annoying. Fortunately, we are pretty laid back and details aren’t as important to us as they are to others. We are just content to celebrate with our friends and family, and continue our wonderfully weird bi-coastal little life. While everyone else worries about dress codes and whatever, we are just happy. But the number one question we get asked is:
“Who is moving where? Surely you’ll want to live together!”
Allow me to answer your question!
Everything is staying exactly the way it is for the foreseeable future.
I know this sounds very confusing, but the reasons are simple. We both have children. They are in school. My younger daughter is in university. My son just started high school. It would be unfair to uproot their lives and risk their educations because their parents finally figured out what everyone knew years ago. Different provinces have different academic standards and I would hate for my son to graduate later than his peers because we uprooted him. My daughter is pursuing her degree and preparing to train for her dream job. I refuse to do anything that will jeopardize that. I have spent years working to provide my kids with stability and we finally have it. We rent a magical home in a good neighbourhood. We have lived there for years. We have a great relationship with our community, and my son attends a great school nearby. My fiancé has a career with a pension and a healthy co-parenting dynamic. Everyone is happy, especially our children.
The other reason is also really simple; I know my limitations as a human being. Your girl has struggled for years with the idea of being tied down or not being in control of my own future. I spent years in a suffocating marriage where I made very few decisions. When we broke up, I had no idea how to navigate life on my own, as I had been trapped in some kind of abusive relationship since I was 19. I had my oldest child when I was very young; I didn’t even know myself, let alone how to be an adult. I learned trial by fire and I’m finally in a place where I feel like I’m in control of my life. I have always been afraid of marriage, and it’s taken me years of therapy to get to a place where the idea doesn’t fill me with existential dread; with the loss of freedom and autonomy. My poor fiancé has tried to convince me that we should get married so many times over the years and every time I would bolt and move further away (the last time I was already here lol). I was afraid of my own feelings, of the future, and of the idea that I’d be sacrificing for a man. Everyone who knows me personally laughs at the time I tried to run away from my first wedding, but at the same time GUYS I ACTUALLY TRIED TO RUN AWAY FROM MY WEDDING. I wasn’t ready, it wasn’t right, and I couldn’t breathe. I tried to run from a vow renewal that led to a divorce ten months later. I’m really not good at weddings y’all)
(Before you start a betting pool, I assure you I will not be running away from this wedding. Mostly because this was not a choice entered into lightly and I adore the person I’m marrying. Also because it’s like, five hours from home and leaving everyone stranded is hecking rude)
Fortunately, my fiancé is a man who has watched me slowly rebuild my life after getting out of a violent marriage, ugly divorce, and many first dates that made me want another cat. He’s always understood my intense fear of another failed marriage or loss of self and wants me to be happy. He loves me enough to understand that allowing me the grace and space to navigate our future while giving our respective kids the stability they deserve to reach their academic goals is what’s best for our family unit.
When this conversation comes up with literally everyone, I struggle not to get defensive, as everyone assumes I’m just packing up my life as if I don’t have one. I love my fiancé, but I also love my job, my friends, my house, and the winters aren’t so bad once you get used to it. Also, it’s MINE. I built that shit from the ground up all by myself and I’m damn proud of my little niche in the universe. While I am well aware that I can’t have my cake and eat it too forever, I am eternally grateful that I have it right now. When the kids are done school, we will revisit the “where will we live” conversation. I think we are actually the least concerned, because we know that it’ll all work out when both of us are ready, and not because someone feels like they have to shake things up. It works because we have a twenty five year foundation and understand what each of us needs to be happy. Someday we will decide where to live, but for now, it’s just noise and we prefer to be peaceful ostriches in the sand.
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.
It’s been a hot minute, eh? Truthfully, I haven’t really talked much because there’s not much going on. Actually, that’s not true. There’s lots happening and I just haven’t really wanted to talk much. I haven’t felt like a writer for a long time. Maybe it’s time I did.
I started my new job and I love it y’all. I drive around and teach people about the joys of Google. I work with amazing people. My new boss is the best dude, and totally engaged with the development of his team. I won’t lie; the beginning was mostly winging it, but I think I’ve got it down. I’m making real money again, and I can afford stuff again. There’s something so satisfying knowing your bills are paid after months of scrambling. I’ve got a couple of debts to settle and I’ll be finally caught up. Last summer, this felt impossible, but here we are.
My nights and weekends are mine, which means I’m going to the gym again. Going back to CrossFit 60lbs heavier has been a challenge. I get so intimidated and I have to psych myself up to go, but we will get there. Hawaii will wait until next year because I want to take the fam on vacation and I can’t do both. Also, this journey will be tougher than I thought so I need to give myself time and space to get healthy. Because my time is mine, I have time for my kids, my friends, and even for ramen. I see people and we hang out. No more overtime shifts or unpaid conference calls. I have work/life balance. I clean my house at night. Things feel normal for the first time in forever.
It’s been a long three years, but I think I’m finally happy. It’s weird, but I’m almost afraid to say it, as if it’ll all get ruined if I do. The last three years have been about loss: financial stability, loss of the gym, loss of work/life balance, and even loss of self. But over the last few months, I’ve been able to get it back a bit. Even though it feels harder, the only way to get “me” back is to keep doing what I’m doing and power through the rough spots until I fit in my old pants and can do a burpee again.
There’s been so many positives: I’m down a pant size, the kids are calmer, my hair has even started growing back. (It’s much healthier because I can afford good shampoo again). I think I just had to take some time to grieve the life I thought I’d get to start finding the life I want.
I know it was just a job, but the loss of my old job was a blow. I worked with some of my best friends every day. I had a boss who believed in me. I started a corporate philanthropy program. It was something that meant the world to me and I built it on my own from the ground up. Maybe it’s stupid, but for the first time in my entire life, I felt like I was doing something that helped people, and the people who’s opinions I valued finally respected me. I wasn’t just a vapid weirdo who spent her life trying to prove she deserved a place in a dying field: I was making some kind of difference. For once, I wasn’t the dumb dumb who just wrote stupid stuff no one cares about, and really likes her blind spot indicators. I had a job I was good at while promoting my passion projects with my friends. Then, it was gone. I had to crawl back to an industry I outgrew years ago and start over from the ground up. My idea was just gone. My friends I saw every day became text once a month friends. My best friends became so far away because I had no time for them. I worked sixty hours to try and figure out which bill I could pay. My family was falling apart. My freelance career was dead. I just felt like I was back to being the talkative dumb dumb people laugh at, not with. I took this feeling with me every day, everywhere I went. I threw a party and no one showed (except my best friend, who’s just the best kind of human). I watched my laundry pile up and my clothes get tighter and I just didn’t care anymore.
Once I started my job, things changed. It was because I suddenly had time. That time allowed me to realize that I had to let parts of my life go. I had to accept that no matter how much you wanted it to work out, sometimes it doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean it’s over; it just means you try again. I had to forgive myself for a lot of stuff. For giving up on my dreams to sell phones. For giving up on all the stuff I enjoyed. Even the irrational shit, like I couldn’t single handedly find ways to fix society or some dumb shit. Most of all, I had to forgive myself for giving up on me and just accepting I was stupid and unworthy.
I did a lot of soul searching to figure out what I wanted and how to make it happen. I wanted to be the active person I was, so I push myself even when I don’t want to. My program may be in the idea graveyard, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help people! Currently I’m trying to raise $1000 for Stollery Children’s Hospital. Sure, it’s not as easy when I don’t have corporate backing me, and I can’t nag, but I’m sure by May 1, I’ll have hit my goal (if you want to donate, please click here. I would be ever so grateful). I don’t get to hang out with my friends every day, but my job is very people-y. My reps actually like when I come. My current boss thinks I’m smart. My kids respect me. I live in a beautiful home. For the first time in a long time, I feel in control of my life.
Also, I’m almost blonde again. We all know only blonde MHC is successful
Maybe I won’t be the journalist I wanted to be. Maybe I won’t be able to get back into athletic form. Maybe I’ll never meet anyone and die alone with my cats. Maybe I’ll never be anything but the dumb dumb no one respects because I talk too much and people mostly tune out because I’m just too much. But, for the first time in my life, I’m okay with that. I can still be happy even if I’m just a weird crazy person, or the butt of every joke until I die. Maybe I just needed to be myself, even if I’m the only one who likes me. I used to go through my life wanting people to be proud of me; my kids, my friends, my mother. But I never thought about being proud of myself. I realized even if I never accomplished anything I wanted to, I have managed to pull myself out of every dark place, rut, or hamster wheel I’ve ever found myself on, and that’s enough.
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.
It’s been a minute! Truthfully, I haven’t had much to talk about. I’ve been focused on my family, and adjusting to my new job, and weight loss. Not terribly interesting stuff. Weight loss has been a struggle, and after my visit with the endocrinologist, I was left even more frustrated. Apparently I was misdiagnosed with PCOS, and there’s another issue, but I had to plead for blood work to figure it out. I just got “have you considered being less fat?” YES. YES I HAVE. But then instead of addressing the actual symptoms, it was just here’s a weight loss shot. I’m getting blood work, but I had to yell at the doctor to get it. It’s absolutely shameful that women’s health is completely ignored unless you want to get pregnant. I ended up taking medication and nearly died for legit no reason and I am actually really angry about it. I’m very hesitant to take medication after what happened in April. So, I’ll go ask for a second opinion from another OB/GYN, but until then, I’m going to have to take control of my health on my own, without help from doctors who have no interest in investigating women’s health.
One thing that has been tough about weight loss has been that I have no goal to work towards. Before, I would pick a goal and work towards it, like my friend’s wedding, or the lululemon 10k. But there was no 10k and the pulmonary embolism has forced me to start all over again in terms of fitness. But I’ve finally completed my treatment, which means two things; I can get back to running, and I can drink again.
Okay not really. Anyone who knows me knows I drink on my birthday and sometimes Xmas
I’ve been thinking a lot about what is a good fitness goal for me. I really want to work towards something big, something meaningful. Like those people who do Tough Mudder, but without the masochism, and the making Tough Mudder your entire raison d’être. That’s when I decided that I’m going to quit eating fast food (except one cheat meal a month) and I am going to save all of my coins, and compete in the Ultimate Hawaiian Trail Run!
Photo courtesy of @ultimatehawaiiantrailrun. Give ‘em an IG follow!
All the money raised is to help at risk youth through the Keala Foundation. It combines all of my favourite things: fitness, helping others, and vacations. It’s a big goal to train for that requires me to stick to fitness goals, give up fast food, and stick to a budget, all things I’ve been trying really hard to do. I’m finally getting the hang of my new job and adjusting back to being in the store. I’m looking at how to better financially plan so I can get my debt under control, as well as reducing some costs by scaling back some cable and cellular services. I need to get healthier, so eating at home was the cheapest start. Until I can get back to the gym, it’ll be home based workouts with Deadboys Fitness and starting Couch to 5K again. I can’t keep obsessing about the year I was set back being treated for something I didn’t have. I need to focus on what is in my control, which is eating right, better financial planning, and exercise. Will I lose a ton of weight? Maybe. I did it before. Or maybe I’ll finally get answers about why I’m struggling with my health. But I know working towards some kind of goal will help me stay on task.
The other thing that is critical is eating right; no diets, no tricks. I have teenagers and I have to teach them healthy body image, including a positive relationship with food. That’s how I lost all of the weight before. No more intermittent fasting, or fad diets. I’ll watch my macros in MyFitnessPal, but that’s it. I’m a role model to three young people, I have to make sure they’re seeing someone getting healthy but not skipping meals or being really restrictive. It’s gonna be about choosing the right foods; not changing my entire diet to yo-yo with my weight.
I’m not going to pretend it’s all going to work out, but I am going to be gentle with myself while working very hard to improve. The more work I put in, the better the returns, so I’ll just keep working and keep positive, excited to see change…and hopefully go to Hawaii to run in mud and raise money to help others, which is always a good time.
Remember how I almost died? Well, 2022 decided to further kick me in the face! My company faced some financial hardships, and almost all of us were laid off. Suddenly I went from feeling confident in my future to worried about losing my house. It was tough. I have nothing negative to say about my time with the company. This is a great organization with great people. I’m honoured to have been part of it. I met really great people and I’m lucky to be friends with many of them. It was a rewarding experience. But, I have to pay bills and even when life gets you down, there’s a silver lining. One of my former colleagues works for another organization and she was gracious enough to offer me a position. I’m super excited to be part of this company. She’s a great leader and I feel like I can learn a lot from her. Most importantly, I’ve been reunited with colleagues and friends that I loved working with. It’s a really cool time for me work wise.
However, switching jobs means switching pay periods. Money is tight. Benefits are non existent for the next three months. Trying to scrape together money for medication has been tough. Speaking of medication, I’m still fighting my doctor for a referral to a specialist and I’m not getting anywhere. The tooth I had a root canal in has been feeling off (not painful, just weird), so anxiety says my tooth is falling out and I’ll be ugly. I’ve been afraid to work out since my pulmonary embolism. I’m just very down on myself.
I deleted my dating apps a few weeks ago. I got stood up and just decided that was it. But I’ve been noticing the way I look at myself hasn’t been great. I genuinely don’t see the point of trying to date when I feel genuinely ugly. Any time someone suggests that I date someone, I just say I am too ugly and crazy have WAY too much baggage. Whether or not i was interested was irrelevant; I was just too ugly to even consider it as an option. Everything is just about looks it feels. Even when I was explaining my frustration with my doctor, my friend kept bringing it back to my weight, even though it was about my doctor only wanting me to take one kind of medication. When I went into Lululemon I was asked if I was shopping for gifts because “we don’t accommodate plus size.” I realized my weight will always be my defining character trait until I lose it again, so there’s no point in putting myself out there to meet anyone. I just feel like the annoying person people engage with because they work with me or whatever. Hell, even some of my friends always tell me how I’m doing so great on my own and they see me as the type of person who will be happy with their cats, alone and don’t need anyone. They meant it as a compliment; I felt like it meant I’m not really a catch. I don’t think I’m a catch. It’s either that or reminders that the general population says me as some kind of airhead with no substance and talks too much. If I had a dollar for every time I heard “shut up Mary-Helen,” I’d never have money problems again. All of my report cards with “talks too much,” are now making me wonder if I’m really just…not partner material. All of a sudden dating just felt like a waste of of time so I just sort of gave up.
I get this is just anxiety. Deep down I know I’m not ugly or stupid and my tooth probably isn’t going to be extracted or fall out (but until the dentist says so, I’m gonna be a little scared). But I also have to internalize a lot because a lot of times, my feelings are sort of dismissed as “you’re fine,” or “it’s fine,” while I’m kind of expected to be there for everyone and it’s overwhelming. When I’m helping my kids with body image issues, I can’t really open up about my own. I won’t have benefits for three months so therapy is off the table for a bit. It’s also the feeling of not being in control of every situation to give myself the stability I need to thrive. So, I needed to figure out how do I pull myself out of this rut? I can’t just cry and I’m not allowed to drink so functional alcoholism seems to be off of the table for now. I needed a new plan to help pull myself out of this mental health spiral.
I’ve started goal setting using an app called Finch. It has all sorts of things to help with wellness and keep anxiety in check. One goal was to fill all of my Apple Watch rings in July. I need to build healthy habits. I get up thirty minutes before I have to so I can meditate and set the tone for the day. I went so long without putting on makeup or even trying to take pride in my appearance, so I make sure to at least do my eyes every morning, and do my hair as well. No more ponytails. I get to work forty minutes early so I can mentally prepare for my shift and make an action plan for the day. They’re baby steps, but hopefully they’ll turn into strides. It’s gonna be a journey, but I’ve pulled myself out of darker places. I just need to focus on the things that I need to thrive;
1. Fitness
2. Family
3. Friends
4. Ways to grow at work
This means getting over my fear of fitness. I have to remember that it wasn’t exercise that hurt me, it was the medication that caused the blood clots. I’ve taken steps to recover. I have to trust my body is healing and ready to get back into shape. I can start off slowly and eventually get back to the point where I’m seeing results. Obviously this situation has caused me to make some major dietary changes, so between that and the fitness, I should see the results I’m hoping to see, and I can celebrate my commitment to health.
As for dating, I’m gonna stay away for now. Until I can see myself as someone worthy of love, I can’t. That’s how I ended up with people who were abusive or mean before. I don’t want to settle, so until my response is no longer “no way, I’m way too old/fat/ugly/stupid” when anyone suggests a possible date for me, I can’t even consider it. I can’t be a good partner to someone else when my inner monologue is treating my psyche like shit. This way I can avoid being preyed on by some creep, and when the time comes, I’ll be emotionally ready to be a good partner…In theory.
I know I sort of fell off of the Earth lately, but I haven’t felt particularly motivated or inspired to write lately. I haven’t really been motivated to do anything, except let my anxiety run wild and create insane scenarios in my head about how everyone actually hates me because they’re cooler, better looking, and smarter than me, and I’m the fattest, most annoying loser that ever lived.
I find myself constantly trying to balance if I’m being too much, or talking too much, or being too “me.” I’ve spent most of my life being told that being myself won’t always leave the best impression, and I really want to fit in with my new team, because they’re all so awesome. It’s dumb, but ever since one of my friends told me I’m only fun to be around in small doses because otherwise I’m overwhelming, I tend to obsess that I’m always gonna be too much and eventually I’ll annoy everyone until they don’t want to talk to me anymore. Every time I spend time with anyone, I wonder how I could have done that better. Could I have talked less, about myself less, could I have been nicer. What could I do to be less annoying. When I get home from work I wonder how I could have been better. Could I have interacted better. Do my coworkers like me. Am I dragging the team down. This is my head every night.
I thought getting out of a toxic work environment would fix my self esteem issues, but I still feel like I’m too annoying to be a real person. I’m doing well at work and I’m excited to be working on a project that I’m super passionate about. But it also triggers insecurities. I wonder if someone else should present it because my coworkers are cool and kick ass. Deep down I know I have no reason to feel that way. I love my new job. I’m getting to know amazing people. I’m part of a team of colleagues I admire and respect. I’m working on projects where we get to do more for our community because it’s the right thing to do, not just to get a point on scoreboard. I love being home more with my family. I love that I have more free time to see my friends. I love that work is fun again. But just because you remove yourself from toxicity doesn’t mean you don’t have to check yourself for your own toxic behaviours and correct them. I’ve realized that my insecurities and anxieties are impacting my life and I need to make healthy changes so I can be a better MHC.
The negative self talk has helped me realize that my anxiety is out of control. It’s dominated every aspect of my life. I’m constantly comparing myself to the highlight reels of others, wishing I was confident like them. I’m constantly putting myself down in my head, letting those comments from friends, my old boss, and even my third grade teacher play back.
– Too much
– too big of a personality
– too domineering
– no one wants a strong woman, a fat woman, an old lady
– talks too much.
The truth is that I’ve neglected myself for so long that all I can focus on anymore is the negatives about my life, appearance, etc and I need to bust out of the rut of feeling ugly and stupid. So, I’ve made a conscious decision to shut down the negative thoughts by putting me first. I’ve been blocking off time to work out, and some friends in Ontario are keeping me motivated to get in shape for a wedding in the summer. I’ve rebooked that hair appointment I’ve cancelled four times. I’ve blocked off time to do yoga every night. Most importantly, I recently took time to talk to my doctor about my mental health. While I’ve been seeing a therapist for months, I’ve been referred to a psychiatrist to help me with my anxiety and PTSD. My therapist has been amazing, but I think it’s time I get to the root causes of my anxiety and how to effectively cope with my PTSD triggers to be my best self again.
Part of getting out of toxic environments is really looking at yourself and taking ownership of how you can avoid these situations in the future. Part of my issue was needing validation from my boss so desperately made me like myself a little bit less every time I didn’t get it. The more I got torn down, the more I would resolve to be better instead of accepting that this was a sick cycle carousel where my best was never enough. Now I want to feel valued by the people around me and that’s not a healthy way to live and it’s not fair to the people around me. I also need to figure out why I keep putting myself in these unhealthy situations; both personally and professionally. I don’t want to just learn to cope; I want to really heal from the trauma of losing a parent and being abandoned by the other, being physically assaulted by an ex fiancé when I was 19, the physically and emotionally abusive marriage, and why these incidents led me to choose unhealthy partners, jobs, and friendships. By working on healing properly, I hope to teach my own kids that it’s okay to have uncomfortable conversations about mental health, and it’s okay to seek help to be better.
I’ve always been afraid to really deep dive into my mental health, but I know in order to be healthy enough to get in shape, have healthy relationships, and regain confidence, I need to truly resolve my trust issues, insecurities, etc. It’s gonna be uncomfortable, but most growth is. I spent a lot of years being complacent with my job while letting my anxiety take over. Maybe it’s time I really push myself to better again, so I can finally feel good about myself, and feel like I’m really capable of accomplishing good things…or I’ll still be the cat lady who ends up a Walmart greeter at 85. You know, whatever.
I’ve always strived to improve as a person and the last year or so, I didn’t really do that. I basically sat around, got fat, and let the depression take me. I also learned that you never realize how bad something is for you until you get rid of it. Since I left my old job a month ago, my hair isn’t falling out as much. I work out again. I sleep better, my skin care routine is better. Oh, and I take vitamins every morning. I’m more optimistic and peppier. I just feel good about myself and my life for the first time in a long ass time.
I’m really excited about my future again. I don’t feel 100% confident to jump into dating, mostly because I don’t totally like myself. Also, I’m not sure online dating is for me. I need to get to know someone before I can pursue a relationship and I’ve run out of friends to date. But it’s not a subject that stresses me out anymore. If it happens, it happens. But I’m excited about who I’m going to become again.
One way I’ve gotten back on track is to focus on growth that isn’t about a scale number or a workout. It’s the stuff that has changed that I never thought was important but is. I pride myself on my house being clean and organized. Before I accepted that I’d never be the best housekeeper, but I’ve learned my family and I deserve better. I used to be afraid to drive; now I drive for a living! I’ve really prioritized taking care of my hair and skin, and I’ve been doing home workouts to get back into fitness. Sometimes you get so caught up in the idea that because one thing hasn’t changed, you aren’t growing. But I’ve been getting better in a bunch of other little ways. I’m not the person I want to be yet, but I’m trying and I’m gonna get there. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can get back in shape, be a good mom, do well at my job, let my hair grow back, and be the type of person who can be in a relationship with someone else. Now that I’m not under the weight of a toxic work environment, I feel like I am capable of success and that I deserve it. I’m surrounded by friends and colleagues that share my ideas of what winning together and cheering each other on actually means. It feels so good to be around people who want to build each other up, and celebrating successes with people I respect and admire.
The lesson I’ve learned is that if you waste all of your time feeling like a failure because one thing hasn’t worked, you’ll never see all of the ways you’re bettering yourself l. I spent years being made to feel like I was dumb, old, and incompetent at work, which made me feel like that at home. It sapped the life out of me and turned me into the failure they said I was. Now, I see all of the ways that wasn’t true and that I’m actually making baby steps to be better every day. I still have moments where I feel good big, ugly, and stupid, but I talk myself through them by listening to Lorde, Taylor Swift, and reminding myself of the changes I’ve made and that I’m better than I was last week or last year. Maybe by focusing on my growth in other areas, I can use that to hit my fitness goals.
So if you feel like you’re stuck, or you’re not getting better. Maybe you’re stuck in a rut. Maybe look at what else you’ve been doing. You’ve probably come so far and don’t even realize it. You’re still killing the game, just not in the way you felt like you weren’t, and even that will come. Just keep pushing forward and you’ll find the bad bitch you were always meant to be.
I’m struggling in every aspect of my life. Moving always sucks and I’m just finally unpacked after a month. I feel like I’m not doing enough at work. I feel like I’m not doing enough for my family. I just feel like I try and I try and I try to do the right thing and I miss something or I did it wrong and it all blows up and I’m just over feeling like I walk on eggshells in my life.
It’s been tough. My mom is back in the hospital after a fall. My siblings are no help so I’m trying to be a good caregiver and a good mom but something has to give and right now that’s my own health.I’ve been seeing a doctor for weeks now about some challenges that have caused my hair to fall out (fortunately I have so much no one has noticed), exhaustion, my face is swollen, I’m bloated and tired, and in constant pain. Fortunately, since none of it has to do with COVID, I haven’t missed any work. But I come home from work and sleep on the couch. It’s not ideal. I’m missing workouts, I’m missing calls from the hospital, I’m missing time with my kids. Apparently it’s stress or a disorder that doesn’t match my symptoms. It’s been frustrating and I just hate my body right now. It’s fat, ugly, and failing.
My financial situation took a huge hit when my ex husband (who is still almost 10k in arrears for child support) swore on all that was holy that he would file his income taxes in time so we could use it to move. He didn’t. He’s not working, and I have tremendous empathy for his situation, so I try not to ask for too much. But it’s just another time where he’s been dishonest with me about doing the right thing for the kids. Like, if you can’t help, I understand, but don’t lie to me and everyone else for months. Fortunately, I work for a company that has worked tirelessly to keep us working (we are considered essential) and find ways to compensate us well so this too shall pass. But it just adds to the stress when kids need summer clothes and new shoes, etc. and you had to use that money to cover the move. The past few months have been a lot and I’m just really tired.
I know I shouldn’t be complaining. There are others who have gone through (or are going through) much worse. But I want to be more authentic and honest when things are suboptimal. All my life I’ve hidden behind toxic positivity to pretend that everything is fine when it’s not fine. Then I get resentful when everyone is like “wow MHC you’re so strong, you got dis!” And then I wonder why I feel so alone. The truth is I don’t know if I “got dis.” My mom is getting older and I’m scared that our time left together is getting shorter. I also flip through complex feelings of concern, fear, and sometimes even resentment, especially towards my siblings, who couldn’t give a single fuck. I’m scared that maybe something is wrong, or that all of these symptoms are in my head and I’m just crazy. One thing I’ve learned from therapy is that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and scared. You don’t have to put on a brave front or feel guilty for wanting some extra support. You don’t need to fake happiness to make it.
If the last 14 months have taught me anything, it’s that we need to be gentler with each other. It’s okay to have bad days and tough times and you don’t need to hide behind positive affirmations to get through. Sometimes you can allow yourself to feel sad, angry, scared, and then pick yourself up and find the tools you need to help yourself. It’s okay to ask each other for emotional support. It’s okay to put self care first sometimes. It’s just not okay to wallow in your misery. Allow yourself to feel, but not to remain. Ask for the help you need to dig yourself out. For me, it’s therapy, exercise, my family, and my friends. It takes a village to survive the new normal, so for me, it’s about offering the support that I would want to someone else when I have the emotional energy to spare, while recognizing that it’s not my job to be there every time, so I can recharge too, so that I may be a better mom, manager, and friend.
The Misadventures of MHC 