On #BellLetsTalk

I used to be much better at talking about mental illness. When I was younger, I was seriously depressed, even suicidal. I tried to take my life a few times, and I realize now that it was more than just your regular teenage mess of hormones and feeling so lonely while growing up. Once I admitted my issue, I had no problem discussing it with everyone and on all my social networks. But since then, I've become more of a private person, and this post is my attempt to change that.

When I was depressed as a teen, talking about it didn't help right away, because I had to find the right people to talk to. At the time, I reached out to my favourite teachers, because the government funded healthcare centers didn't offer much support. The therapist I spoke to on the phone - because I couldn't make my way to the clinic without tipping everyone off! - was not very helpful, even when we did have an in-person session. After my parents became aware of the issue and got involved in trying to help, I saw another therapist, privately and with my family. That didn't help either. The therapist did not accept that my feelings were real to me, whether or not they were "legitimate" in that situation. And this was a trained, educated doctor. Her job was to deal with issues like mine. If she couldn't help, who could?

The stigma about mental illness MUST end. Invisible pain is just as real and serious as physical pain. Just because someone is constantly smiling and bubbly doesn't mean that their mind isn't going a mile a minute trying not to think of the big bad. I deal with anxiety on a daily basis. Sometimes, it's so bad that I have a panic attack. I know myself, and I know that this is not me. I've taken steps to get help, and I'm on the right path.

I've been on anti-depressants before. This time, a whirlwind of "big bad" events all happening at the same time led to my feelings of anxiety becoming overwhelming. Some days, I could barely get out of bed. It didn't help that I wasn't getting enough sleep because all the what-ifs were keeping me awake at night. Some days, I got out of bed, then binge-ate junk food to try to hide the problem from myself, and then felt like crap for making myself feel so gross and unhealthy. Even though I had found the little things that made me happy the last time I was depressed, and used those feelings of gratitude and appreciation of every day "happy" to get me off the anti-depressants, I realized that I needed a helping hand.

This time, talking about it DID help. The first step was admitting to myself that I wasn't going to be able to deal with this myself. So I reached out to friends who I knew also had experience dealing with invisible, mental pain. Once I was comfortable speaking with them about my current issues, I was able to reach out to my other friends - those who might have been closer in theory but felt further away because I didn't know how they would react to me sharing that it wasn't all moonlight and roses in my head. Fortunately, this time around I've got "real" friends. The kind the stick with you no matter what. And not only were they accepting, they were helpful, and they offered to change the way they interact with me ONLY if it would make me feel better.

It wouldn't, by the way. I think it's pretty safe to say that the worst reaction to an admission of mental health struggles is for your friends and family to treat you different. It just makes you feel even more isolated and fragile.

The second step was to talk to my doctor. I'm fortunate to have an AMAZING doctor. She was my GP at Queen's Student Health, and I've seen her for everything since, from follow-ups to annual check-ups. She also offers counseling services. Yup, I hit the jackpot! I found someone who understands that health and wellness is not just physical, and who realizes that listening is the most important step to helping someone towards their wellness goals. And that's listening without judging. Feeling like someone is actually listening to you and cares about what you have to say is a huge help. The best part for me is that my doctor realizes that I'm fairly well versed in medical issues and that I keep track of my body and what I'm feeling, so there's little to no second-guessing, apart from regular professional obligation, of course!

So yes. I'm an overly anxious person, to the point where at this confused intersection in my life, it can be paralyzing. Yes, I am currently taking medication to help me get through the day, because sometimes, whether it's hormone-induced or situational, I get overwhelmed by all the items on my to-do list and the lack of control I have over many of them, and I freak out. I have those junk food binge days, or days where I work from bed because it's more comforting. And sometimes, I don't take care of my responsibilities, like when it's my turn to make dinner or when I've said I'm going to vacuum and don't end up doing it.

Make no mistake. It's not that I just don't feel like doing it or that I physically can't do it. It's that I feel like I can't muster the energy to do it, and the fear, the FEAR of not being able to do the things I say I will do, and the anxiety related to the reactions of those affected by the decision - and the "if only people knew I felt like this, my brand would suffer and they'd see me as weak and incapable" that I'm currently feeling even from simply writing this post - that's the real problem. The anxiety builds up until it's truly paralyzing and then you really ARE unable to get up and do the things you say you're going to do. Until you get that little push that helps you take the first step towards accomplishing that task.

And while that push sometimes means taking three steps forward, then five steps back, then another two forward and maybe ending up back in bed, the feeling that you tried does make a difference. A little one, but at least you know you can get out of bed and you will eventually be able to follow through with the full task.

It's been tough for me to admit, but as an anxious person, I also find it really tough to give myself a break. I know it doesn't show, but being a workaholic is actually a bit of a coping mechanism. If I keep working and don't relax, then I'll get everything done and I won't feel guilty about not crossing things off my to-do list, right? Guilt is indeed one of those other messy feelings that prevents you from doing the things you know you need to do. Sometimes, I even feel guilty when I choose to go to the gym when I could be working on my thesis, even though I KNOW that the gym will make me feel better overall, help heal my knee injury, AND make me more productive in my thesis work. Not to mention give me a much better night's sleep!

It's a bit of a vicious cycle, and that's why it's so hard for people affected with mental illnesses to discuss their experiences. But we must. Because people need to know. They need to understand so that they can stop judging and so they can admit that they too have dealt with some of these issues. We need to have a real conversation about mental health and how the government needs to step up and start dealing with the repercussions of the modern day "go go go" lifestyle we now live.

But the discussion starts at home, with your family, your friends, your doctor. Call the local health line. Tweet about it. Post an awkward Facebook status that calls for attention and then LET PEOPLE HELP YOU when they ask if you're okay.

Be honest with yourself. It's okay to feel down sometimes, and it's okay if "sometimes" becomes "most of the time". You're not alone, and chances are that if you reach out to someone, that person will tell you they've felt like that too.

Don't be afraid to call your friend in the middle of the night even though you know they're going to be pissed at you and they probably won't answer and then you'll have worked up the courage to call for no reason. Talk yourself INTO these decisions instead of letting the fear, guilt and anxiety talk you out of it.

And please please please be open about your experiences. If you've dealt with a mental illness in the past, or are dealing with one today, help break the stigma, and talk about it now. Why wait? Bell says let's talk. Whether or not you like their corporate sponsorship approach, the message is valid. It's time to talk, Canada, and there's no time like the present to start the conversation.

PS: I hope this post helps at least one of you feel more comfortable with your crazy feelings. We're all a bit messed up - maybe part of our healing can be to help others heal too.

PPS: Hug someone today and every day. Hugs are awesome. Chocolate is awesome too. And pets! And babies! Find your happy and let yourself enjoy it! :)

On making choices

I seem to be having an identity crisis these days. I hear it's quite common amongst others in my age group.

Many people have them upon reaching a major milestone or realizing a significant achievement. Some have one earlier in life, and others, much later. Some, like me, have them often. Apparently, it's a personality trait to be constantly searching for new, or bigger and better. Perhaps it is why my interests and ambitions are so varied... It keeps me feeling involved and evolved, growing yet dedicated to the task at hand.

Since the past few months have been so tumultuous for me, it's no wonder that finally submitting my thesis proposal would be a major source of relief. While everything else in my life is still a developing story, meeting my academic deadline is definitely good news. Yet, more than ever, I find myself wondering what's next. One bundle of stress has been replaced by a gazillion others.

Where does my future lie, I ask myself day in and day out. When waking up or trying really hard to fall asleep. When switching tabs and trying to get some work done. When doing the dishes or showering. When... Well, you get the point. It's a major source of worry for me.

As an overthinker and an overanalyzer, I've been picking out all my interests as they peak and asking myself if they're the path I want to follow. I love Kingtson dearly and have made many friends here, but let's face it, my career goals probably require a move. Then again, there's the possibility of staying in Kingston forever and ever, because I love it so.

I'll let you in on a not-so-secret... While I've been working on my Masters', I've also been applying to jobs that would fall under the "dream" category. Social media consultant positions in the sports industry, marketing, communications or social media director with pro sports organizations, even reporting at the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games. Some applications have gone further than others - sometimes quite surprisingly! - but in the end, all roads have led to disappointment and doubt. Perhaps it's the "ongoing research" part of my CV or the tiny little fact that I can't legally work in the USA unless someone sponsors me. Or maybe I just suck at writing captivating cover letters for an HR audience - I do tend to aim them more towards Senior VPs. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm not good enough.

Because after all, that's the thought that always sparks identity crises, whether on the personal or professional front. "Maybe I'm not good enough."

And the worst part is, there's no way of truly getting an honest, accurate answer. People will rarely tell you to your face, and though rejection letters seem to be saying that you're not, we've all learned by now that sometimes, it's just because you weren't the right person at the right place at the right time who knows the right insider. Or at least, that's what they tell me. That and, "Don't give up!" or "Sometimes you have to take a step back to take a step forward," or any other similar supposedly encouraging clichés.

Let me be blunt. I am not a spoiled, stuck-up brat who thinks the world should be handed to me on a platter. But I've done my due diligence, and I'm tired of entry level positions that go nowhere. I know I can do the job, anyone who's ever worked with me knows I can do the job, heck! Even random network contacts on Twitter know I can do the job! And yet this road seems to lead nowhere. It's hard not to get discouraged. I will keep applying, but there's only so much disappointment and rejection one can take.

And so one must explore other avenues. Yes, I still crave work in the sports industry. I crave it like I do chocolate when I'm PMSing (or any time, really.) But the world doesn't stop spinning or wait for you to understand precisely what it is you need to get that little boost, gain that tiny little edge, and get you where you want and need to be to feel fulfilled professionally.

Other roads that seem to hold this promise include the previous mentioned "Stay in Kingston forever because I love it" scenario as well as the brand new and surprising (to me) "Pursue a PhD" option.

No, really! The girl who was afraid of completing a thesis is still here, but she is now freaking out about comps (comprehensive examinations), committing to a long-term research idea instead of a spontaneous one, quantitative courses like Statistics and Variables, and, more urgently, taking the GMAT or GRE standardized test. That's the big one. The barrier to entry, so to speak. At least from way over here, comps seem relatively benign in comparison to the big, looming, "better score high or forget about it" standardized test.

Yes, I'm aware there are courses and study guides and practice tests. Still. Fellow graduate students, when was the last time you took a closed book, closed environment exam? (Don't answer that, MBAs!) It's a scary scenario when it's been a while, and yet one I'm increasingly strongly considering. Or at least exploring. I've still got a thesis to write, after all, and I would really prefer a program that allowed me flexibility in my course plan so that I feel intellectually stimulated and challenged in all the right ways. And like I'm finally on track. So if you're aware of any excellent innovative Sports Management PhD programs in Canada or the USA, I'm all ears!

And then there's the Kingston plan. I've said it before (at least twice in this post alone!), I <3 Kingston. There's something about it that's charming and exciting. Perhaps the mix of old and new, the blend of city and country. Whatever it is, it repeatedly fills me with joy and childlike glee. Maybe I could build a life in Kingston, I think. Consult (social media), communicate (PR), start a business (CarShare Kingston). All three options are interesting and viable and have been suggested to me by other Kingston residents as well. But these feelings are eerily similar to ones I've felt before about the media industry and the sports industry, and we all know how that's working out.

If I were to choose Kingston, I think I would run for City Councillor in 2014, the next municipal elections. It would be interesting, challenging, stimulating, and it would make me feel like I'm accomplishing something important by representing my fellow residents at City Hall. It would also be a responsibility I would wholeheartedly enjoy and dedicate myself too.

These traits are also the ones friends and colleagues point out when I mention the possibility of doing a PhD. "You like research and you're good at it." It's true. I love digging, discovering, and sharing. I've often been told I would be a good teacher. I would like to think I'd be a better professor - I'd be teaching people who, for the most part, are in my classroom by choice. The only aspect of academia that I'm not 100% in tune with is the highly political process of funding applications and other higher education administrative games.

Maybe I'm an idealist, but I believe that most research has value, and that should be enough for funding agencies. I'm not sure where the money should come from, but I just don't like the thought of competing against my friends and colleagues every year, not just for money but for tenure. It gets to be damaging. Sure, I'm pretty competitive and I like to win. But I also like harmonious working environments and I feel like this process fosters quite the opposite in most departments.

In the end, I may choose a completely different path, perhaps one that hasn't even been revealed to me yet. Meanwhile, I'm struggling with the three roads in front of me. Doing nothing is not an option, though delaying a choice by defaulting to Kingston might be. At as now, there is no pressing urge to commit to a single road - except to stop the clock in my head from ticking annoyingly - and I will keep marching along on all three for as long as I can. But ultimately, a choice must be made, and as application deadlines creep increasingly closer, I must at least decide whether I will be deciding now or not.

Maybe I'm just impatient. Maybe I'm just letting various sources of stress gang up on me, overwhelming and confusing me. But this identity crisis is as real as any, and the planner in me wants to know now, so at least I can cross certain items of my to-do list, thereby reducing overall stress levels and allowing life to proceed at a totally tolerable, no longer terrible, operationally cautionary rhythm and rate.

As Douglas Adams would say, "DON'T PANIC!"

On Time

A whole month has gone by, it seems, and these days more than ever, I am aware of the passing of time. It's not just the minutes and seconds of every day that seem to expire too fast or too slow, it is the implications of those moments.

In the past month, I've seen so many different explorations of "time". Not enough time in a day. Too much time to do something. Having the time of your life. At this point in time. Time goes by. In time. On time. Long-time. Feels like the first time. Time-sensitive material. Timely answers. Bedtime. Timeless magic. Having time to kill. Time standing still. Things changing over time. Overtime. Taking the time. Perfectly timed comebacks. Keeping time. Love that will last for all time. Until the end of time. In the meantime. Timing. Time management. Time-tracking. Time and time again. Time out.

Time to change.

That's the kicker, ain't it? No matter how time seems to be moving around you, it always boils down to deciding whether or not to change (tasks, ways of thinking, position, feelings...).

In the past month, I've had some wonderful times and some stressful times. Emotional times too. I went to the Taylor Swift concert in Montreal with an amazing friend, and also got to spend time with my family. I went to my cousin's beautiful wedding weekend and got to meet, re-meet and simply enjoy the company of my extended family. I took the time to explore Kingston a little bit more, the hidden sights and the touristy ones, alone, with a local friend, and with a visiting long-time friend. And through it all, I had the time of my life.

In the past month, I have also wished that time could just stop for a bit so I could catch up, catch my breath, and catch on. My health symptoms seem to have stabilised for the most part... until I get sudden, painful reminders that we haven't discovered their source or cause yet. Tests have ruled out some of the more obvious answers so now we're left wondering and doing more tests. At least I'm not spending half my day in the washroom anymore, at least not every day. But not knowing what foods to avoid and what is "safe" is definitely a pain - I can't predict when I will feel sick so I've adopted the bad habit of delaying eating to avoid symptoms. Not cool.

One of the tests we did was an allergy test. I've always been allergic to all the common triggers - dust, mold, pets, pollen, ragweed - but I wanted to get re-tested to see if the combination of never-ending allergy shots as a child and puberty might have desensitized me to some of those allergens. I also wanted to find out if I really was allergic to asparagus, as we'd suspected since the age of 2, when I had my first asthma attack after having it as my "new food of the day". Sure enough, some of my pollen allergies had disappeared over time. And I was so allergic to asparagus that I now have a couple of Epipens and am getting a MedicAlert bracelet - at least they're prettier these days then when I was a child! Also, the allergist tested my breathing, which was apparently not under control. Asthma meds have been upped but at least now that the doctor has prescribed additional measures, I can't be lazy about it. Time to turn the negative into the positive!

In the past month, I've also had some stressful times, trying to figure out if Queen's University and the Faculty Association will come to an agreement in time and avoid a strike or lockout. We should know more in the coming days, when the "No Board" deadline is activated. In the meantime, job action measures are creating delays not only in services but in my ability to get work done. It's hard to feel confident about investing time into putting together a thesis proposal when you know that if you have a quick question, you're going to have to wait a long time for an answer - two weeks turnaround time, to be exact. So I've been procrastinating, which no doubt has led to more stress. Tack on the stress of my health issues, making ends meet financially, the discovery of mold (which I'm allergic to) in my apartment (but that my landlord will likely do nothing about) and Pharaoh Ants (which are the hardest to get rid of, though my traps have been quite effective so far) in my kitchen, and you've got a bundle of sleepy, sleepless, restless, nerves. (That's me!)

Over time, stress leads to anxiety and other hyper-emotional reactions, so everything seems to have a heightened impact. Which leads to more stress, of course, and a greater desire for a time out from life. But "in real life", there are no time outs. So it's time to change. Time to buckle up and get my ducks in a row. Yes, work/life balance is important. Yes, a healthy mind thrives in a healthy body. But since I can't seem to control the body part of that equation, I'm going to focus on the mind. I'm going to take the time I need to reset myself - in effect, taking a "real life" time out - by letting others help me manage my time. I'm going to crawl back to Mommy and Daddy and let them take care of me for a little bit of time, and I'm not afraid to say so or ashamed of it.

Because time doesn't stand still.

Time is going by so quickly and I need more time in my day to make sure I get my work done on time. And at this point in time, it's time that I acknowledge the passage of time and take advantage of the little time that I have left to take a young adult time-out before it's time for me to be giving them out. And then, you can be sure that I won't have time to kill.

All in good time!

On grieving

It surprises me that I still grieve for my friend's mom. Sure, we had a close relationship at one time, but not in the past few years. Kristin Walker passed away one week ago, peacefully, surrounded by 15 family members in a palliative care unit. After her third (I think?) bout with breast cancer, she couldn't fight anymore. It had metastesized over the years, slowly attacking her major organs. Liver. Lungs. Brain. One by one, they fell.

Kristin was more than my friend's mom. She was my ex-boyfriend's mom, and so, a surrogate mom for me, at one point in my life. I spent a considerable amount of time in her home and knew her family and loved ones very well. At one point, they were my friends and family too. In her last week, they tried to contact me. My Facebook issues made that very difficult. My ex, as usual, was not very forthcoming with information. To be fair, he had other things on his mind. He emailed me with the news on Sunday. His family didn't know I had finally been reached.

I should have known something was going on. I should have trusted my instincts. In the past few weeks, I kept feeling like I should call him, or at least text or email to see what was going on in his life. I kept putting it off. I dread awkward conversations. Many do. But I should have known. I should have listened to my pestering inner voice instead of not so subconsciously forgetting to follow through.

I wish I had gotten to say goodbye. It pains me to know that I was wanted and couldn't be there. Especially since I was only 20 minutes away by car, having gone home for an Easter visit. I wish I had known. I wish I could have wordlessly touched her hand and transferred some of my positive energy to her. Just in case it would have made a difference.

The funny thing is that I had been thinking of her all weekend. The first time I met Kristin was at a family Easter brunch. My first encounter with the Walkers. I remember it well. I remember the exact table we sat at in the restaurant, the way she looked at me. I remember her hair. I remember stressing over what to wear. I remember what I wore and I remember the warmth. The funny thing is that memory kept coming back to me. Now Easter will always be a time to remember her, even moreso than before.

I wish I could have stayed for the funeral. I wish I could have been at the wake. Because of the distance, I couldn't even bake. I ordered from a local bakery and a nearby friend - an angel - delivered them instead. She described Kristin's mom's reaction to me later over Twitter. No one should have to bury their child, no matter how young or how old. That's not the way life's energy is supposed to flow. We're supposed to grow.

It all comes back to the same place, I suppose. Kristin's life impacted that of everyone she encountered. That's just the way she was. She was a wild spirit and though everyone has their faults, she was rarely malicious. Manipulative, perhaps, but all strong spirits are. That's what makes them so feisty, so full of fire. That's what makes them who they are.

It's fitting that Kristin's wake should have taken place on the day of the Royal Wedding. She would have loved to watch it, in her pyjamas in her living room, or perhaps even in bed. She probably would have called a bunch of her friends as she watched. Gossiping. Gasping. Giggling.

Instead, all her friends came to watch her. At least she isn't suffering anymore, that much we know. At least she's not worrying anymore, she doesn't have to know. It was her time to go. And in a few weeks, we will party in her honour once more, celebrating her life, marking her death, and sharing memories that will help her live on forever in our hearts, in our heads.

Kristin, you were loved. And you will be missed.

On Linking

I am a sponge. I absorb knowledge and I can't stop sucking it all in, even when I'm full. It's an unquenchable thirst, a never ending search.

People say I post cool links. Whether it's on Twitter, on Facebook or by email, they laugh, cry and wonder along with the variety of stories I help them discover. The truth is, as with anything else in life that is successful, I have a little help from my friends.

I don't find all these stories by myself - I'd never sleep! No, instead I rely on a well-knit network of sources who provide me with the most interesting articles in their niche and other stories that tickle their fancy.

Back in the days before Twitter, I did a lot more link exploring than I do now, but mostly because I wasn't satisfied with just the stories my Facebook friends posted (no offence!). My RSS feeds weren't enough to keep me occupied either. So I browsed Yahoo! News -gotta love their oddities section! - and clicked through Propeller and other sites I stumbled upon through previously linked stories.

But Twitter! Ah, Twitter changed everything! Now I have access to a wealth of stories in all kinds of interesting fields and - dare I say it? - sometimes too many articles to read! I often end up simply browsing before retweeting or Facebook posting, and then I'm forced to awkwardly add a belated comment on the story. (The secret is out!)

Still, I do end up reading everything I post, though certain links sometimes remain on my desktop all day or taunt me annoyingly from a perpetually open browser window.

At least I've evolved from my early Facebook years, when I felt almost compelled to post nearly every story I came across. It's a wonder my friends didn't de-friend me for spamming them with links! (Although in those days I guess they didn't really have to see them if they didn't want to).

I've often thought of turning this obsession into a potentially profitable venture. Why not collect all the cool stories I find and turn my blog into a news wire of sorts? Because then I would be forced to comment on each and every link when some of them deserve nothing more than a "Heh. Interesting." or are posted more for general knowledge than life-enhancing purposes.

Someone recently suggested to me that I might use my link-finding talents while hosting a radio show. Sure, that could be fun. But then the pressure of finding cool, creative and original stories each and every day would definitely take the enjoyment out of it. And who needs all that extra stress?

The fact remains that I post stories because I'm interested in them or because I think people should know about them. It is a truly selfish endeavour, at once feeding my incessant need to know (NOW!) and making me look fairly sociable - not to mention knowledgeable!

So while I have my reasons for retweeting and reposting, I am left with a feeling of emptiness at the end of the day, when my prolific sharing has resulted in no interesting conversations or additional sharing by others. Which is why I always appreciate the "likes" on Facebook... Simple and to the point: it can loosely be translated into a "This is cool, thanks for posting!"

And since I post mostly for me (now that I've gotten over my awkward Facebook adolescence stage), it always warms my heart to hear someone say in a private conversation when I'm starting to think no one is reading: "I really enjoy all the links you post." These comments are always exquisitely timed and give me a renewed enthusiasm for sharing what I think is cool with my little slice of the world.

But I wonder... Why do you post links?

P.S.: You're welcome.