Tag Archives for Mental Health

InkTober: Day 21 – Big

Have you ever felt so overwhelmed by a situation you didn’t know what to do with yourself? That happens to me more often than I care to admit. I’ve occupied that space of frenzied energy quite a bit in recent years because of my health. There were moments when I couldn’t comprehend all the information given to me by multiple doctors in appointments and I walked away feeling scared and lost. Many times, I couldn’t make sense of what my body was doing or why, but knew I had to seek help in addition to my daily cocktail of medications. Of course, it sometimes gets worse when the solutions proposed to restore my health seem crazy, and then disappointingly don’t deliver the expected results.

However, with all of this unpredictable craziness in my life in the last few years, I’ve been forced to put a lot of things into the proper perspective. Sometimes people and issues in my daily life make me angry, but the physical reaction my body responds with forces me to take a step back and remind myself that whatever I’m dealing with in that moment, isn’t as big a deal as what I’ve been doing my best to cope with for three years. And when I contrast my health trials to some of those of the people I’ve connected with through social media or people closer to me within my circle of personal relationships, they pale in comparison.

Perspective is an interesting thing. We need to remember to keep our sights on the big picture so the little things don’t tear us down.

InkTober - Day 21 - Big

 

Keep Safe Old Friend

Today is the birthday of a friend of mine from high school. I haven’t seen her in years, but I never forget that this day is her birthday. As many do, our paths diverged after high school: I went to university; she went right to work then soon became pregnant with her first child. Being from a religious family, they made her choices for her. She would marry the boy she barely loved, or knew well, and raise a family. That boy became an abusive husband and father, who beat her during both her pregnancies and whenever else it suited him; facts she hid from me for a long time.

When she first told me, I felt outraged and wanted to do everything in my power to punish him and to change her situation: she and her children could stay with me as long as necessary so she could figure out what she needed and wanted to do for herself, for them. She never left him because both families and her religion forbade it. Family elders and their priests counselled them, but the abuse never ended. It evolved, becoming the thing that controlled her life, isolated her, made her ill, and a shadow of the vibrant person she once was.

All these years later, I still become overwhelmed with grief and anger, and well up with tears when I think of the smart beautiful funny girl she was and the hopeless woman she became. There is nothing I wouldn’t have done to help her leave him and nothing I wouldn’t do now. On the odd occasion when we talk on the phone because he’s not lurking somewhere nearby, the topic and the possibilities of how she could leave still arise, but the fear she feels for herself and her children outweighs all else. So, I tell her to keep herself safe and reluctantly hang up and wait for the next time she calls.

I don’t know if she received the birthday message I sent to her by text this morning. I didn’t get a reply. I can only hope she did receive it and believe that telling her I love her makes a difference in her day, and in this fraction of her life. When you love someone that’s what you want for them: goodness and the best of everything. Even when you know, the chances of that happening are slim. Nevertheless, just in case, I’ll send another birthday wish into the universe for my old friend with all the love in my heart, and I’ll pray that she’s keeping safe.

 

Elton John – Friends

 

InkTober: Day 20 – Squeeze

It probably wouldn’t surprise anyone who knows me that I always squeeze my toothpaste – or other things that come in tubes – from the bottom. Nor would they be shocked to learn that I care about the direction toilet paper is rolled: it should always be from the top. I also like my dishes, and cans and boxes of food stacked and organized a certain way, as well as clothing and linens being folding and stored in distinct ways. When CDs were a big thing, I had a filing system for my CD collection, so I could easily know where to find music when I wanted to listen to something specific. My friends definitely mocked me for this, when I explained my system because they wanted to play or borrow music.

I’m not suggesting that I’m OCD – at least I’ve never been diagnosed – but I appreciate order. Although it’s become impossible to keep some of that order since becoming ill. Whether it’s because I’m too tired or sore to do something the way I usually would, or trying not to be rude when someone takes the time to help me. The order that I once prided myself on keeping is falling by the wayside. There seems to always be dishes in my kitchen sink. I rarely put away all my clothes, whether immediately after being laundered or if they don’t make the cut when I’m choosing an outfit, and because of that I have a perpetual mound of fabric sitting atop the chair in my bedroom; and sometimes on the side of the bed on which I don’t sleep. I recently told a friend that I need a desk. He replied, “You don’t need a desk. You need a dining table.” Alluding to the fact that my dining table is now littered, with all the things (my laptop, pens, markers, pencils, notebooks, sketchbooks) I would want to place on a desk.

I can’t seem to muster the energy to get things in order. However, I don’t necessarily believe it’s a bad thing that I’m not so strictly organized anymore. The energy I once squeezed into cleaning or making sure I placed things in specific places, even when I was exhausted, isn’t channelled into those areas anymore – not that I don’t have my moments of weakness when someone does me the favour of doing my dishes. I’m using that energy, when it’s available to me, to do creative things and take care of myself. Furthermore, instead of a place where things are always neatly organized, I’m enjoying the idea of having a home that looks and feels lived-in.

InkTober - Day 20 - Squeeze