I’m happy.

Like rainbows and unicorns happy.

That’s right, I said it. I’m being happy just been being.

I’m not having to capture moments with Joe because they are so few and far between. I’m not travelling between Ottawa and Toronto on a cramped bus. I’m not having panic attacks about work. I’ve had enough contracts to help Joe make sure we’re eating. I’ve had lots of cuddle time with my cats. I call Mom and Dad and tell them about my day and I don’t whine and complain. I’m volunteering more. I’m meeting new people. In fact, I met some really great people tonight and hope I can hang with them more often.

My biggest problem at the moment is PMS. But that’s a short-lived problem. My biggest worry? What I’ll pack for my upcoming trip to Manitoba.

That’s right, I’m not worried about cleaning (apartment is a mess, oh well) or anything. I’m just happy being.

So beware. Lots of ideas are brewing, especially ones that might help me stay in this self-employed state of bliss.

That includes a lot more photos to make up for all the ones I’ve not taken recently. Especially ones of rainbows and unicorns.

/vanishes

The only problem with this one is that it was during my “in denial” stage where I blogged about things that weren’t true to make it seem like I was okay. So to better show you how I used to do that, I’ve used strike through quite liberally in this update. And italics are additions that I made today. Enjoy!

Originally posted: October 9, 2008

I’ve been tagged by J., and am tagging everyone!

1. I aboslutely adore making lists, especially lists about me.  I think I need to do a new 100 Things About Me list, because the old one is from a much different time.  I’m actually said that my lists category only has one entry in it.  Well two now, including this.  My love of lists expands to chore lists (I like making the lists, not doing the chores), grocery lists, lists of things I’d like to buy…the list goes on! This is all still 100% true.

2. I’m a big fan of Facebook.  I use Twitter to update my status, and I upload most of the photos from my iPhone.  I post links and pictures that I really like, and want to share.  I import this blog so that people can read my posts from there. (Hi people who read my posts via Facebook!)  I play Tiny Adventures I don’t even remember what this is, maybe Dungeons and Dragons related? and keep track of books that I read.  I just love, love, love Facebook. Facebook is mostly for stalking people. I’ve got a page there for this webpage so that people who choose to see my blog posts and if they ever get the Twitter app to work I’ll be a bit happier. But still. Ugh. Smart Twitter for Pages saves the day. After writing this post I fiddled some more and finally found a solution. This Facebook apps filters out all the @’s and the RT’s and the #hashtags so that my Facebook peeps are not subjected to Twitter clutter. /cheer

3. I used to play Dungeons and Dragons.  And I love it.  Right now I’m a 12th level monk, who is a kalashtar named Cosmaashana.  I recently realized that I accidentally removed all of my previous posts on her when I revamped the blog, so I’ll be putting those back up pronto.  You will notice that her name has a link, and all of the posts will eventually be in the Cosmaashana category. I have posts kicking around somewhere of some creative writing that I did with this character, I’m sure I’ll post them someday. I’m currently working on a related but super secret project that involves a sketchbook, some pencils, a canvas and some paint.  I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon. I’m sure you won’t hear about it soon as I have no idea what it was. I can assure you that I have plenty of sketchbooks, pencils, canvas, and paint laying around the house though. Chances are I was going to illustrate one of the adventures, but I can’t really say for sure. As a side note, I really would like to start playing again. I’m thinking maybe even trying to be a Dungeon Master. We shall see. Until then I’ve started a Draenei Priest named Cosmaashana in World of Warcraft to tide me over.

4. I love my job. I said that because I was still in it. I don’t talk about my job on my blog, but that’s because I’d rather not.  This is generally a good policy and I still stick to it. I didn’t say anything about writing about jobs I’m not in at the moment. And technically I’m just on personal leave so we’ll see. I also don’t talk about my *really* personal life either. Yes, I do. Well parts of it. I’ll tell you all anything (but not everything) I tell my Mom. In both cases it’s because things happen at work and in my *really* personal life that implicate other people, other people who might not want to be talked about on the internet.  Back to my job.  I really love it, even if sometimes It’s going terribly.  The transition between being a student and being a professional has been a hard one, but I can say I think I’m finally at the beginning of “there”.  I’ve learned some lessons the hard way, but that’s sometimes how life goes. Amen.

5.  I’m in love with James Bond, and my favourite James Bond is Daniel Craig.  Who I often get mixed up with Clive Owen.  But it’s definitely Daniel Craig that I am in love with, and not Clive Owen.  This may or may not have anything to do with this picture.  It also may or may not have anything to do the swim trunks that he’s wearing.  But let me assure you, my love of James Bond runs much deeper than any physical attraction I may or may not have to Daniel Craig. I was in love with James Bond because the ex liked it. I now think James Bond is okay to watch and more think that Daniel Craig is hot. The end.

6. I am in love with all things England.  The time I spent in London is one of the most memorable times in my life, and the people I lived with and the people I visited that I had met when they came to Canada are some of the dearest and most wonderful people on earth.  I love the tradition, I love the buildings, I love the hundreds of years of history, I love the parliamentary system, I love the Tube, I just love, love, love all things England.  I terribly want to go back when I’m not dirt poor. Still 100% true.

7. I am a terrible procrastinator.  Right now I’m procrastinating about going home and getting cleaned up for my parent’s arrival tomorrow evening.  I’ve been a procrastinator my whole life, just ask my Mom about my project about cows that I did in Grade Three.  I should really scan that sucker and post it. Once again, 100% me.

I guess that wasn’t so bad, eh?

• Thank the person who gave them this award/roped them into this meme. (Thanks Bad Mummy!)
• Share 7 things about myself.
• Pass the award along to 15 bloggers who I’ve recently discovered and that I think are fantastic! I’m not very good at tagging people, so if you read this…you are tagged!

I also think it’s worth noting that seven things is really too easy. The last list I did about myself (in 2005! When I started blogging!) was 100 things. Without any further adoooo, here we go!

1. I’ve got the best boyfriend on earth. He’s the brother of a friend from Ottawa and we met at her birthday party. We started talking on the phone and the Internet and quite quickly realized that seeing each other in person quite regularly was something we wanted to do. We spent almost a year traveling between Ottawa and Toronto and then I decided that I was ready to pick up and start fresh in Toronto. And we’ve been living together ever since. I love him dearly and he doesn’t even annoy me one little bit ever.

2. I love working. I’m not a workaholic as I’m way too lazy for that. But when I have work to do that’s appreciated/that makes my brain work/that makes me feel needed I am in love! The money is of course nice, but much better is being able to communicate and collaborate and cheer each other on. And for your information, I’m on a contract right now that I LOVE TO BITS. This is big because I used to be very unhappy at work. I worked for the public service and had some very emotional and psychologically moments that affected me deeply.

3. I play World of Warcraft. In fact, I’m playing as I type this. I’ve been playing Horde since October 2006 (I think…) and I just recently started playing Alliance. I love both for different reason, but am right now really digging Alliance as it’s a whole new game. I have a level 80 druid, a level almost 80 paladin and two lowbies: a priest and a shaman. As you can tell, I love playing classes capable of healing. My favourite races to play are tauren, draenei, and night elf.  I’ve been playing Warcraft since the beginning and I love everything about it: the lore, the graphics, the everything!

4. I have gained and now lost a significant amount of weight in my 28 years on this planet. My main gain happened in university and the leadup to entering the public service. Being unceremoniously dumped added the final 20 pounds. I went to the doctor and she of course wanted me to lose weight and provided a much needed push. My little sister was also getting married and I didn’t want to be the fat sister bridesmaid. I was still a chubby sister bridesmaid, but as of the wedding I’d lost almost 50 pounds. That’s been a year now and I’ve not really made much of an effort, but thanks to changes in eating patterns my weight now starts with a two for the first time in a long time.

5. I call myself a writer these days and I’m quite happy about that. In my last list I mentioned that I wanted to call myself a writer so I’m happy to say that after five years I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I am one! I had a bit of a rough go while I was working for the public service because I had a manager who pretty much destroyed any confidence I had about any of my skills, but since then I’ve had lots of opportunities to prove to myself and others that I can make writing happen with my fingers.

6. I love food and food related activities. I used to be an emotional eater and now I’m just an eater. And a maker. I love to make and eat things, or go out and eat things, or have someone make things for me so that I can eat them. I’m not a picky eater at all, but I’ve finally learned that I can say that I don’t prefer something and be okay with that. I’m not the biggest fan of some tofu related products (and soy can be pretty evil, more on that someday) but you deep fry it and chances are it goes in my belly. My favourite food are the wings of chickens: spicy or sweet or hot or saucy or not, I love ‘em all. And P.S. coffee rules.

7. I love my family more than anything. Perfect bookends: I started with Joe and for the finale I’ll talk about how awesome my Mom, my Dad, my little sister, and my little brother are. I have grown much closer to my family in the time that I’ve been away from Manitoba, and even more closer in the time since I was dumped. I realized then the importance of my support system and keeping it healthy. The phone and the Internet are lifelines to home and my visits are less far and few between.

This was of course before I was unceremoniously dumped. And I find #20 HILARIOUS as it shows that I didn’t even like him enough then to put him in a list other than to feel guilty about not including him sooner. #28 is also funny, but honestly I fell in lust to a mixed CD. I can’t even say that I was kissed for the first time to a mixed CD. I had to kiss him. All he said was that I had nice knuckles. And #74, ugh. Everytime I think of that camera I get mad. I didn’t get it for him for his birthday (which means I lied in this list!), I got it for him as a gift to “please love me” after he left the first time. That’s right, after he left the first time. I haven’t told you about that? Don’t worry I will sometime.

Don’t tell Clawdia and Pawylanna about #57.

Originally Posted April 30, 2005

1. She loves lists.
2. She also loves categories and order, some say its because she’s a Virgo.
3. Born in the year of the Rooster, and true to her sign, she sometimes thinks very highly of herself.
4. She likes all of the good things that horoscopes say, and worries that the bad parts are true.
5. She worries too much, but is now worried that she’ll have nothing to worry about because she’s done school.
6. But then she remembers that she can worry about finding a real job.
7. She is irritated by spelling and grammar mistakes, but has a hard time finding them in her own work.
8. She loves playing video games, especially when she can dress her characters up in pretty outfits.
9. She really doesn’t appreciate gore and violence for the sake of gore and violence, whether it be in movies, video games or anywhere else.
10. She likes the fact that this list kind of captures her mood at the moment it’s being written.
11. She knows that once she hits 100 on this list, she’ll want to add more.
12. She likes collecting things, especially things on the Internet.
13. She knows that sounds kind of strange right now, but hopes that it’ll be better understood later.
14. She hopes that you’re not too irritated about reading this list in the third person.
15. She misses her laptop, but it’s never been the same since the time she broke it while overseas.
16. She loves travelling, but hasn’t had the money to go very many exciting places.
17. She hates travelling alone, because there is no one to take pictures with her or of her.
18. Her favourite part of London was the tour of Parliament, go figure.
19. She’s also been to the United Nations Headquarters, though it was a long time ago and she doesn’t really remember it that well.
20. She’s in love, and feels a little guilty that this is the first time she’s mentioned the boyfriend.
21. She loves Canadian Beef, and so should you.
22. Unless you’re a vegetarian, in which case you should love Canadian Beef Farmers.
23. She loves sticky notes, especially ones that are multi-coloured.
24. She wants to be a writer, but worries she can’t write very well.
25. She’s a quarter of the way to 100, and she’s just getting started.
26. She has a hard time making mixed CDs because she takes too long to decide what songs should go on them.
27. It’s also because she likes coloured CDs or CDs that look like records, and doesn’t want to ruin them just in case she doesn’t like the CD.
28. She fell in love to a mixed CD.
29. She wonders if people will think it’s strange that she refers to a mixed CD like she would refer to a mixed tape.
30. She doesn’t mind it when people download music, or anything else for that matter.
31. She thinks if things were more affordable, people would be more likely to buy them.
32. She thinks that if people made more money, they’d have more money to buy things.
33. She thinks if corporations thought about people rather than money, they’d make more money because people would make more money to buy things.
34. She’s kind of a crazy lefty, but in a cowboy conservative sort of way.
35. She wishes she were more of a cowgirl.
36. She’s a budding feminist, who learned this past year she’s been a feminist her whole life.
37. When she gets married, she’s going to hyphenate.
38. She’s kind of embarrassed to admit that when she’s lazy, she’ll wear a sheet around the house.
39. She’s not afraid to admit that wearing a sheet can be very comfortable.
40. She’s a bit afraid to admit that she may or may not be wearing a sheet right now.
41. She’s an awfully bad liar.
42. She loves eating, and is coming to understand that she’d rather eat healthy than not.
43. She often finds fast food and corner store snacks to be too greasy and actually not very appetizing.
44. She walked into a McDonald’s the other day and didn’t think it smelled very good in there.
45. This may or may not have something to do with the fact that she thinks that Super Size Me is a good movie that everyone should see.
46. She also thinks that should be more movies like Hotel Rwanda.
47. The last movie she saw was Kung Fu Hustle, and really loved the parts when the Axe Gang danced.
48. She loves kung fu movies, at least the ones that are funny.
49. She thinks that any movie with subtitles is worth seeing at least once.
50. Her favourite movie of all time is about a girl and a boy who fall in love, but can’t get together in the beginning because she thinks he’s an ass and can’t get together in the middle because because she thinks he’s dead, but end up getting together in the end.
51. She’s halfway there, and she loves it!
52. She loves dogs, and wants to get one.
53. She really doesn’t think that having a pet in an apartment will be too bad, especially if it’s going to be a small pet who grows up in an apartment and is loved from the first day.
54. She also wants to get some fish, because her father loves them and she loves the glow that the tank gives off in the dark.
55. Her grandmother also had a tank full of guppies, and she loved feeding them when she was young.
56. Her grandmother also had cats.
57. She doesn’t really like cats enough to have one of her own, but in most cases likes other people’s cats.
58. She doesn’t like people or houses that smell of cats.
59. She’s got a super sonic sense of smell.
60. One of her favourite smells is fresh cut grass.
61. Another of her favourite smells is rain.
62. She grew up on a farm.
63. She wishes she had ridden horseback more when she was growing up, but didn’t because she used to be afraid of horses.
64. Now that she’s bigger than the horse, she thinks she’d do better.
65. She wants to have an herb garden on her balcony.
66. She’s excited to be moving to a new apartment within the next month.
67. She’s worried that she won’t have the money to buy the things she’d like for the new place, especially the things that are needed.
68. She wishes she had the money to buy the things that would just be nice to have.
69. She loves coloured pens and markers.
70. She wonders if you realize that when she gets a bit stuck, she looks around her desk for inspiration.
71. She returned the last of her library books over a week ago, and her desk is very empty without them.
72. She loves taking pictures, and wished that she had a better digital camera.
73. She realizes that she needs many other things right now before she needs a new digital camera.
74. Especially since she realizes that the camcorder that she got her boyfriend for his birthday last year takes fine pictures.
75. She never wants to live beyond her means.
76. She wants to start donating money to the Red Cross when she is able.
77. She’ll rip out pages of a notebook and re-write them if she doesn’t like the way that they look.
78. One of the reasons she likes blogs so much is because they do everything very orderly, and she can make them look whatever way she wants, and then change what she wants at a moments notice.
79. She wishes she were better at making webpages.
80. She also wishes that she got to swim more, because she loves it.
81. She just remembered that there is a swimming pool in the basement of her new apartment building, which makes her quite joyous!
82. Singing Christmas carols also makes her quite joyous.
83. She enjoys singing a lot, and wishes she had the self confidence to do it more often.
84. She took voice lessons.
85. She can’t wait to get a bicycle with a basket.
86. She really tried to resist the urge to say she also wants the little streamers that come out of the handlebars.
87. She really likes any kind of popcorn, but prefers the kind that comes out of an air popper at home.
88. She talks to her mom on the phone for hours on end.
89. She loves the Beatles, and can’t pick a favourite song or album.
90. She’s got a wonderful middle name that she got from her great-grandmother.
91. She misses her family dearly.
92. She’s more afraid of her loved ones dying than she is afraid of herself dying.
93. She loves it when her feet get tanned.
94. She’s a clean freak who only cleans when she’s in the mood for it.
95. She loves taking baths, in fact she’s wanting to take one right now, but needs to finish this list.
96. She can’t remember the last book she read for fun.
97. After sitting here for a while, she thinks it was Family Matters by Rohinton Mistry.
98. But she’s not sure whether she read it this past Christmas, or the Christmas before that.
99. She has a pretty good memory.
100. But she wishes it were better, which is why she’s starting to keep a paper journal. Oh, and start this blog of course.

I’ve been feeling bad about not posting much. Especially since I have a bunch of older content that I’ve been waiting like crazy to share with you all. So I made a promise to myself that I’d sit down and schedule some posts sometime this weekend, as well as write a new one on my thoughts on Mental Health Camp Toronto, an event that happened yesterday that I wasn’t able to attend in person but watched from afar on Twitter. I also plan on doing laundry, taking measurements so I can build my new bed, taking measurements for my bathroom for the lighting installation I’m doing and reorganizing the kitchen. You can bet your booties that I’m going to be blogging about all of these things, but I can’t make any promises about when any of them will get done.

Especially since my eyes are bothering me and I don’t know why.

So here is another older post. I did a search in posts for “dumped” and realized that this would make a great addition to the “On being dumped” series I did. So over the next few days you can hear my story. And today (since re-organizing the kitchen is on the list of things to do) you can hear about how I cleaned my microwave (and the way I’ve cleaned it ever since).

Originally posted: October 28, 2008

I’ve not been posting much.  But I’ve been thinking about posting a lot, which I think should count for something.

I’ve been thinking a lot about why I blog.  Lots of people thinking blogging is crazy.  Lots of people think that the internet is a scary place where I shouldn’t put personal information.  Goodness knows, someone might read this in 20 years when I’m Prime Minister and learn about all the crazy things I’ve done.  Like: clean my microwave.

I’m too lazy to look up any previous posts I’ve made on the matter, but one of my “things” is the fact that I’m ashamed of a dirty house.  There are probably many reasons for this, but the most important reason is that when my house is messy, I am sad.  Not because my house is messy, but because the cleanliness of my house is a barometer for my mental health, and dirty means down in the dumps.

Which is why cleaning the microwave warrants a blog post.

My microwave has been dirty for longer than I care to admit.  It has smelled like microwave popcorn (sometimes I wonder if I should have just spent money on an air popper, instead of a beautiful LG microwave popcorn machine) and had a little chunk of paper towel stuck to its turney-table-thingy for what seems like forever.  But today after heating up my pizza I decided that I was going to use a bit of cleaning knowledge that I’d learned from goodness knows where, and clean it.

So I put a bowl full of water in it, and turned it on for five minutes.  I then forgot about it for 20 (I was eating pizza!), but then remembered it again.  I turned it on for another five minutes, this time remembering to go and rescue it after it beeped.

Inside, everything was steamy and lovely.  And with the assistance of no cleaning product whatsoever, I was able to wipe the inside free of all of the dirt with a paper towel.  And it looked gorgeous.  And I felt better.

I’m having a particularly hard time at the moment.  Money is always a bit of an issue, more so around the time when I have to pay rent and student loans.  You would think perhaps I’d change the dates so I didn’t have to pay both at the same time, but that hasn’t as of yet happened.  Even though my iPhone brings me immense joy, I worry that I shouldn’t have bought it and instead have paid down the credit card to ensure that I’d have enough room to book a plane ticket home for the holidays.  I have to remind myself that the iPhone was purchased with “me” money, and I have to stop spending that on rent or I’m going to go even more bonkers than I already am.  And I truly love my iPhone.

It’s also hard because we’re transitioning to the season and the time when I was rather unceremoniously dumped.  I’ve not talked about this much, and I’m not sure how much I’m going to talk about it other than to say that though I’d not hoped for a parade, the decency of a goodbye might have at least respected the fact that the relationship had lasted almost seven years.  Smells bring back a lot of memories, and right now the cool crisp smell of winter coming reminds me terribly of the weeks I spent curled in a ball wishing for any life but the one I was living.

This will only be magnified by the anniversary date and magnified again by the holiday season.  The hardest part is that my love of snow and Christmas and all things magical and wintry has been tainted by the fact that it’s associated with a time in my life I’ve been doing my best to forget.

It’s times like today (even when the first glorious snowflakes are floating down to earth) that I have to celebrate the small victories, no matter how trivial they might seem.

I cleaned my microwave.

I wouldn’t be a very good cat mom if I didn’t include these two little angels in a post about keeping my mental healthy. I can honestly say I don’t know what I’d do without them as they were there to comfort me on long nights and greet me when I came home after long days. Today is my second of two posts on mental health for Mental Health Week (CMHC still has a terrible website, oh my), and today I’m going to focus on learning to ask for help. Thanks everyone for not commenting on how in the last post I talked about it being “day two” of Mental Health Week when it was Wednesday. When I woke up this morning (thinking it was Thursday) I was all like “Wow, I might get three Mental Health Week blog posts in!” and now I’m all like “Well I guess I could blog Saturday or Sunday….” Moving along.

I’m fiercely independent.

I am the eldest of three children, so I’ve been leading the pack since that fateful day in April 1985. I like having my way. I like to use words like “fiercely independent” and “overachiever” and “strong leader”, but when I’m feeling dark I often tell myself that I’m arrogant and greedy and bossy. I have a hard time asking for help.

I used to think that being left by my ex was the reason I had a nervous breakdown. I used to be really mad at myself for that because I didn’t want to give him credit for anything. I still don’t, even if what he did had to be done, the way he did it caused so much hurt and pain for me and the people I care about that it’s unforgivable. It wasn’t the reason for my nervous breakdown, but it was the straw that broke the (fiercely independent) camel’s back. And forced me to get help.

Things had not been good for a long time. In preparing for this post with some self-reflection, I tried to pinpoint the moment where things started to go downhill fast. It’s with great pleasure that I figured it out and it feels like a great weight was lifted off my shoulders.

My nervous breakdown was triggered by the events of September 1, 2006 and September 10, 2006. What are these two days you might ask? September 1, 2006 is the day that I signed my letter of offer for an indeterminate (permanent) position within the Government of Canada. September 10, 2006 was my 25th birthday.

I’ll talk about my birthday first, because it’s quicker and sets the stage for the rest. I’m happy about birthdays. I did my thesis on how young people aren’t treated as equal stakeholders in society and I felt that the farther away I got from my early twenties, the closer I got to being taken seriously. I was a quarter of a century old! I had accomplished so much: Senate Page for two years, two internships in Parliament (one in Canada, one in the United Kingdom), a Bachelor of Arts degree, a Master’s degree, and an indeterminate job in the Canadian Public Service. I had done everything I’d planned to do save become Prime Minister. But that’s a story for another day. I came to the realization that I had completed my goals and there was nothing planned. Boy if I knew then what I knew now.

Signing my letter of offer was the beginning of the worst phases of my career to date, and I hope the last “worst” phase that I have. Most people would have been happy to slap on those golden handcuffs, but it turned out I was the opposite. Up until that point I had a great manager who had confidence in me and allowed me to do great work. I worked with and helped oversee a team that had our ups and downs, but I thoroughly enjoyed working with all of them. But when I signed that letter my position changed. I no longer went from being superstar organizer to bottom-of-the-dog-pile wonk. I was excited about being a policy wonk as I had two degrees in Political Science and a job in the Canadian Public Service as a policy wonk was a highly coveted prize. I was even lucky enough to be working in my academic area of expertise. I was full of hope and so ready to learn.

None of my managers had time for me anymore. I was no longer needed, so I sat in my cubicle and stared at my computer screen for weeks at a time. Sometimes I’d be given the work that no one else wanted to do, but my motivation to do it was at an all time low. So I’d do it. Well before the deadline. I’d put it in my manager’s inbox and it would sit there and rot until past the deadline. It would finally get read and it would be deemed terrible and not at all what was wanted, but by then it was too late to do revisions so a half-assed job would be done. This would be repeated and I’d soon get the reputation of being a slacker for having a lot of “late” things, even though I’d done them well before the deadline. So my new strategy would be to not do my work right away and then hand it in closer to the deadline so it seemed like I worked on it longer. Chances are it would be deemed unacceptable and no constructive reasons would be given and I began to think that I didn’t deserve my Master’s degree because I was obviously such a terrible writer and person that I didn’t deserve it. This got me the title of “procrastinator” as I would be seen “fooling around on the internet” (a.k.a reading blogs on Google Reader) instead of doing my work. A few months of this battered my poor overachieving soul pretty badly. And the worst feeling was that I had just signed up to do this job for the next 35 years of my life and I felt like all that I had done in the first 25 had been a waste.

A few months of this was all it took for my unsupportive (freeloading, SOB of an) ex to jump ship. I had done a good job of alienating all of my support networks defending my relationship with him. For six  years I’d neglected relationships forged in high school and university trying to keep the relationship alive. I hadn’t become great friends with any of my Senate Page friends as I’d spent more time coddling a moody ex who didn’t want to go to Parliamentary receptions, rather than going out for drinks with a fantastic group of people. I cut my trip to London, England shorter than it needed to be because I was bleeding money because the ex couldn’t hold a job and I was paying rent in both Ottawa and England. I had lied to my family about my financial situation, my relationship, my happiness, my job. Everything. And it all came crashing down.

I was left alone in an apartment I couldn’t afford (even on my permanent salary, juniors make very little compared to the rest of public servants) in a city where I had no family or close friends. I broke.

I spent a week at home sick and then went in to work and told everyone I had the flu. I explained to my managers what happened and was given a cool reception when mental health issues were mentioned. I had enough leave to go home to Manitoba, so I did. I made a trip to the doctor for my physical before I hopped on the plane (as I was trying to maintain the illusion that I was okay and everything was normal) and received another blow. I was fifty pounds heavier than I thought I was. The doctor prescribed me Paxil and sent me on my way.

I went home and my family took care of me. Mom made sure I took my meds and Dad tried to be supportive but he was terribly mad at the ex for what he did. I don’t really remember much else other than I would hope that the phone would ring (as the ex had told me he “fucking loved me” in the note he left and promised to call me in a few days to talk about rent and bills) and that the nightmare would be over. The phone never rang. The vacation ended and I had to go back to Ottawa alone. My flight connected through Toronto and I was grounded due to mechanical failure. After a million cancellations and reschedulings, they finally sent us to a hotel where I was able to get three hours of sleep before I had to get the shuttle to be back at the airport. I had to carry my physical luggage all over hell and gone while my emotional luggage was crushing me.

Work made me numb. The situation wasn’t any better, I wasn’t being given any meaningful work and now I had the added stigma of people whispering about why I was gone. I decided to get help.

I called the clinic where they gave me the Paxil as they had a poster on the wall in the room where I waited about the fact that they offered counseling services. That were covered by my health plan. I chose the doctor that was easiest to get to (as my motivation to do anything was at an all time low) and for the weeks between mid-February and the following September I spent every Friday after work exploring myself in that office.

I started off talking about being abandoned, but it quickly turned to my unhappiness at work and my broken support network. My journey in that office deserves much more than a quick mention at the end of a long post, so we’ll save that story for another time as well.

But I was given the tools to cope better with the curve balls that life sends my way. I was able to see a psychiatrist (who told me the way I was left was “inhumane”, that made me feel better) who adjusted my medication and I’ve been more stable ever since. My meds make me feel “normal”, which I know is a funny thing to say. But for those of you who know me, I am a passionate and dramatic person: being able to control that passion and drama is a good thing. I was able to repair some of the broken bridges, especially with my family. I was more honest with myself and others about what made me feel happy or upset. I stopped pretending to be happy with things to make other people happy. I learned that I have favourite foods (chicken wings! sushi!) and that I’m allowed to disagree.

I learned to ask for help.

So what happened at work you say? What happened to my financial situation? My increased waistline? Oh the mystery and intrigue. If you’re half as exhausted from reading this as I am from writing this, I’m sure you’ll be okay with me saying that those stories can wait for another day. I’ve promised you a lot of stories, and I intend to deliver.

But for now: This is Mental Health Week and people you know suffer from mental health issues. They probably feel overwhelmed and alone. They probably don’t know how to ask for help. They probably think that asking for help makes them weak. They probably think they can figure it out all on their own. Please help them.

It’s about to get honest in here. As this is Mental Health Week (CMHA needs help with its website, I can’t find a decent link to include anywhere), I thought I’d share some of my mental health stories. I’m actually in a “down” period right now.  Which is why I’m only blogging on the second day of Mental Health Week (thanks to V. for reminding me via Facebook!) as lately I have not really been paying attention to anything other than the colour of my navel lint. But for today’s post I’m going to focus on happiness, and how I’m trying to be happy and not just look happy.

I spend a lot of time telling myself that I’m happy and have no reason to be sad. Which isn’t true at all, but I’m good at lying to myself. I’m also good at lying to my family, friends, and complete and utter strangers. I’m good at blaming one situation on another, with telling others that I’m alright when I’m not, and avoiding unhappiness instead of confronting it.

The photo I’ve included with this post is a perfect example of what I’m talking about. I even labeled it “Me looking happy (with dishes)” when I originally uploaded it to Flickr.

When I posted this photo, I told everyone I was finally happy.  And I was. Kind of. I’d just “done my dishes” for the first time in the four months since I’d been dumped. And if I’m being honest here (which I am), I’ll tell you the reason why I said “done my dishes”. They were mostly done. I had hidden a few grungy plastic containers under my sink. Which my Mom found when they visited the following July. I was embarrassed and reminded of my manufactured happiness.

So in this photo I’m looking happy. Not being happy.

Shortly after this photo was taken, the dishes situation at my house returned to catastrophic. Discussions with my therapists (that’s right, in the plural! At one point I had three mental health professionals trying to figure me out!) brought out the fact that the cleanliness of my apartment was an indicator of how happy I was in my heart. But I wasn’t cleaning up or making any effort to clean up either.

That was three years ago, just about to the day.

This period in my life was defined by the fact that I was freshly single, in a job where I was being overworked, under appreciated, and emotionally abused on a regular basis, and barely making ends meet in a lonely apartment that was too expensive.  Eventually I was “promoted” (not once, but twice!) via an acting position at the job I hated. With the “promotions” I was able to live more comfortably and I wasn’t as lonely thanks to a lovely pair of kittens. I even played with the idea of dating a few people, then I thought I was dating someone but really wasn’t. And then I pined after a boy I couldn’t have.

I learned that I didn’t like being single, but I eventually came to terms with it. I learned that I loved living with cats. I learned that I was in a job that was stealing my life away.

That was about one year ago, give or take a month.

My dear friend V. would scrutinize the boys I’d fallen in love with. I was very thankful for this as some of my choices were not so great. She’d reassure me every time my heart was broken that I just had to be patient. That he was out there.

But this was hard to hear. I was unhappy in my job and I thought that if I found a boyfriend that he could move in with me and that would solve my money issues as everything would be split in half. Talk about romance eh? Every day that passed without finding “the one” was another day wasted. Even though I should have been evaluating what I was doing every day in my cubicle and why my money situation was the way that it was. But that’s another story for another day. I blamed my unhappiness on not having a boyfriend and ignored the fact that I was unhappy at work.

But he was out there.

Meeting Joe and him living in another city made me explore my comfort zone. I had always assumed that since I had a good public service job that anyone I met (in Ottawa or not) would want to move in with me in my snazzy downtown apartment with the 40 foot balcony.  I had no idea that I’d fall in love with someone who would make me reconsider all of the things I thought were given and that boyfriends were more than just someone to pay half of the bills. I didn’t know I’d find the balls to take a year of personal leave from the public service to sort things out and follow my heart to Toronto.

This past year has been transformative.

I’m writing this as I sit at my desk wearing a t-shirt and the best pair of shorts (in my move to Toronto I threw out my old grey pair of shorts, but today would have been a good day to wear them) I could find. Well, at least that’s what I’m telling you.  Money is tight as I’m being stubborn about finding a job, so we’re back to living off ramen noodle and hot dogs. I’m only sort of kidding. Joe likes vegetables so we eat lots of those too. My desk is a disaster area. There may or may not be dirty dishes in the vicinity, but I’m not going to say for sure as my desk is in the kitchen so dirty dishes are allowed. And they are from yesterday, so it’s not like they have been there that long anyhow. I’m upset right now that I can’t hang my shelves where I want to as I’m having trouble finding a place I can reliably screw them to the wall. This means that everything I wanted to put on the shelves and on the walls is still not unpacked. Laundry is being done on an “as needed” basis, and since I never need to leave the apartment I bet you can tell where this is going.

I’ve transformed from a well-paid public servant to a self-employed writer who has a hard time getting out of bed.

But I’m closer to being happy than I’ve ever been. Joe is more supportive of me than I could have ever imagined a partner could be. He tells me everything is going to be alright when I’m crying in bed telling him about my feelings of guilt, worthlessness and impending sense of doom. He understands that I’ve had a terrible time at work for the past four years and that I’m a little gun shy and that I don’t want to get hurt again. I’m trying my best to reach out to my support networks and tell them how I really feel, as opposed to how I think they want me to feel. I’m rewarded by emails and phone calls from family and friends making sure I’m alright. And I tell them I’m sad, but not as sad as I’ve been before. I appreciate their gentle nudges about finding a job. I appreciate everything more.

So I’m not happy today, but thanks to my support circles I’ve been able to take risks that will make it more likely that I will be happier tomorrow.

(P.S. Because I was being honest and telling you all that I want to be a writer, I proof-read this a bajillion times. But because it’s late and lets face it I’m feeling depressed, we’re just going to press publish. Viva the imperfections of blogging!)

As part of my website rehab, I plan on republishing old posts with updates. Though this post hardly counts as one from ages ago (as it’s only two months old), it still at least half applies. I’m not feeling sick, but I’m still in a space where I’m milling about and trying to figuring things out. However, I’m much better than I was at the time of writing this post. Probably because Joe is the best and understands that my mood swings aren’t personal attacks on him and has just learned to ride the waves. I’ll need to take him surfing someday on some blue-ish green waves.

Originally posted February 2010.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. The hardest part has been staying positive. As for the most part I know it’s going to be alright, but sometimes it’s hard to believe yourself when everything seems to be going completely as not planned. So not only have I been a bit depressed (blue), I’ve been feeling under the weather (green around the gills).

Financially things were stressful (I have a blog post all queued up on that in general), an expected check or four didn’t arrive at all. He and I got to spend Valentine’s Day weekend eating cake (which was awesome) because that’s what I had the ingredients in the house to make. When I ran out of icing sugar I tried making a frosting that used flour as a thickener, quite good and much less sweet. I’ll blog about that too.

These few weeks of freedom from work were supposed to be stress free and time to recharge. I had it all planned out, I had enough money saved to be able to make it for a while without having to stress out about finding work. Instead I stressed out about having to find money for groceries. Plus I was PMSing. And PMS for me brings hormones galore and headaches and insomnia and….

Bless Him.

I’m supposed to be done a scarf for my Dad and socks for my Mom (Christmas presents no less!), but I’ve not had the ability to concentrate. And then I start feeling guilty about all of the things I’m not doing and then…gosh.

So why am I telling the wild world of the Internet this? Because we all have down days. I want to be as open and honest here on my blog about mental health issues and it wouldn’t be fair to any of us if I always painted a rosy picture. Will I go into detail about the panic attacks? Probably not, but if you want to know about them you can ask and I’ll find a way to talk to you. Because everything isn’t always bright and sunny and full of sweetness and light.

Sometimes things things are blue-ish green.

Sudbury is a community I’m only beginning to get to know. I’ve been there twice now, but this was the first extended visit. The first was on the way to Joe’s family camp on Manitoulin Island and we only stayed for a night and a chance to eat at Deluxe Hamburgers.

Best. Chicken. Sandwich. Ever.

Food distracts me. And I’m easily distracted today as though I thoroughly enjoyed the 10 hours of road trip (5 hours each way), I’m exhausted.

This trip was amazing for many reasons. We shared glorious meals (roast leg of lamb, turkey with all the fixings including this) with Joe’s family, went on drives to see family homes, and listen to Hawksley Workman‘s new album Meat (download podcast with some previews here! Recommend: (Happiest Day is A) Tokyo Bicycle) on the trip home. I visited Records on Wheels to get the album as I’d forgotten to bring any of my CDs. I didn’t stay very long as it was hot and I was over dressed. But oh the money I could spend!

I think next time I’d like to go to Science North, but only if it’s too cold for the beach.