That Don’t Impress Me Much

“It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness.” ― Leo Tolstoy, The Kreutzer Sonata

I have never felt beautiful.

Even as a little girl, I remember standing in front of a mirror, in a bathing suit (I might have been 6 or 7), I thought I was fat and ugly. Yes, that young. Guess what? I wasn’t. I was told as an adult that I was a beautiful little girl. I never felt it.

As a teen, I would wear clothes that were too big. I was 5’1″ and all of 105 – 110 lbs. I was not a big teen. I thought I looked massive. I wasn’t impressive. I’d spent most of my young life being bullied, maybe that was part of it. Teen life involved me drinking, smoking, and finding a group of friends who loved me (and still do!!!). But I was shy, and overwhelmed in groups. My marks were average, I was always told I could do better.

Enter adulthood, I worked jobs I loved. I worked at a small country store with a lunch counter, I worked at a club (bar). I went to university. I adulted, as they say now. But I was also drunk – a lot (never at work or school). I’m pretty sure I was what is termed a functional alcoholic. When I drank, I drank hard. I can no longer drink more than one or two drinks as I get panic attacks.

Everything in that time would impress me. Cars, guys, smart people, everything. I even finished my degree, then got a second one! Then I got married.

I won’t go into my first marriage. A year after we split, I developed MS that was believed to be stress induced (he was not a good person).

I was on my own with two young kids for a while, then I met my current husband. What impressed me about him? He became my friend first. His family all loved him genuinely. He loved (loves) my kids.

I’m so much older now. My second husband and I had a child together, bringing our family fully together. I should be completely happy.

Depression, anxiety, my weight, and so much more has made me numb. I’m having a hard time keeping contact with friends. I’m a hermit. Covid didn’t help, I’m more reclusive than ever. Nothing really impresses me anymore. I put on a smile and act impressed, but everything is just meh.

My joy is in my garden. Snuggling my kids. Spending time with my husband. being close to my pets.

What does impress me? When I see people who genuinely want to help others with no strings. Rescuers who do it over and over again, in spite of the hurt and pain it can bring because the joy is so worth it. Those who put others first because they love how it feels, not what it can bring them. I could go on.

I’m tired. I’m sure this is coming through. I’m drained mentally and physically. I want to be impressed. I want life back.

Shania Twain – That Don’t Impress Me Much

The Sun Always Shines on T.V.

Go on any social media site, any platform and you’ll see them. Shiny, happy people smiling it up for the cameras. The sun is always shining on them. Nothing seems to reach them. No darkness, no despair. Only the sun and rainbows of life.

No one is perfect. No one is always, consistently happy. Those who are, are the innocent or the blissfully unaware. Maybe they’re lying to themselves, maybe they live in a bubble of delusional bliss. I won’t pop them out of it. What I would give to have that bubble of bliss!

You’ll rarely see a photo of me online. My pets, my children, and maybe my husband, yes, but rarely me. I hate taking selfies (though I will under certain circumstances), I dislike being seen. I’m a dichotomy of public and private. This blog is public, my Tik Tok, Instagram, Twitter and the like are all public, but I fear being singled out and fear even more being told how ugly, fat, whatever insult. It’s a bizarre head space. I love to share, I hate to be in the spotlight. I love to get tattoos and colourful hair, but hate being in the centre of attention.

What does that say about me? I honestly don’t know. I don’t even really know who I am after 48 years on this planet.

I do know that the sun doesn’t shine on me. At least, it seldom does. How I would love to be blissfully unaware and float through life on the rays of the sun.

a-ha – The Sun Always Shines on T.V.

No Rain

It’s Friday, the sun is rising earlier each day, the snow is melting, and for the first time in MONTHS I feel fucking good mentally.

I’m legitimately having a good mental health day. Why? No fucking clue! Russia invaded Ukraine (fuck you Putin), the world feels like it’s on fire, and somehow this North American (Canadian) chick is in a good place.

I’m exhausted, my lungs are not great, but my mind is happy. This is huge for me. I can’t even really explain it. Good days are rare, days where I want to smile and no have to force it. I’m considering asking my psychiatrist about going off my medications and do a reset of sorts. That thought scares me as I know how horrible my anxiety and depression can get. The hyper fixation on negative things, the self-harm thoughts, the paranoia. It’s horrible.

I’m pretty sure my depression started as situational. But then I was hammered with stress after stress until my body said enough. It triggered my MS, and I’ve had a doctor wonder if the lesions from my MS are on the areas that control anxiety and depression. This would make sense as it ramped up a lot after MS. Mind you, depression is a co-morbidity to any chronic illness. I also have ADHD, body dysmorphia and a few other fun things (pretty sure I’ve mentioned them all before, but I’m tired and can’t remember! hahaha oh my).

I cannot wait to get my hands dirty in my gardens (not an euphemism!), feel the soil, plant seeds, trim and water, care for all that grows. I even have milkweed to plant this year!

I can’t wait for the scent of petrichor on a morning breeze. Sunlight dappling through leaves. Gentle trickles of water. The song of birds all around.

My yard has become my oasis in the storm of life. I can’t wait to embrace it again.

Blind Melon – No Rain

The Best Of You

“The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four people is suffering from a mental illness. Look at your 3 best friends. If they’re ok, then it’s you.” ― Rita Mae Brown

Today is Bell Let’s Talk Day #BellLetsTalk. I’m normally pretty open about my mental health with family and friends. Pretty sure I’ve mentioned it here more than a few times.

I’ve had trauma, but so have others. That doesn’t diminish my experiences or anyone else’s.

I’ve had struggles, but so have others. That doesn’t diminish my battles or anyone else’s.

I have health conditions, but so do others. That doesn’t diminish how it impacts me or how others deal with their own.

I have struggled mentally from all of it, others do as well, some don’t. That’s ok. Everyone copes with things in different ways. Some chose to push it aside and trudge on. Some wallow in it, bathing in the anguish and despair. Some face it head on, the train wreck entering the station and continuing on. I could go on.

Since today is a day to talk mental health, I’ll share mine. Since I was young, I’ve always struggled with anxiety and self-perception. I worried constantly about what others thought of me, I was bullied which made it worse. I do have generalized anxiety disorder. My old family doctor thought my MS impacted it and made it worse.

I remember little me, about six years old, looking in a mirror. I was wearing a one piece bathing suit. I thought I was fat. SIX YEARS OLD I thought I was fat. I wasn’t. I was actually quite tiny when I was young. So, in case you haven’t guessed – yes, I have body dismorphia.

When you are in chronic pain, or have a chronic health condition, and trauma, depression is usually what comes along. Yes, I have clinical depression and Seasonal Affective Disorder (basically, I’m more depressed in the winter months). I lot of people think of depression as being stuck in a bed and not going anywhere. That’s not always how it looks though. I’m functional. I work a full-time job. I have children, I have pets. Some think I have too many pets, my psychiatrist says otherwise. They get me moving, they depend on me. They don’t judge me.

The older I have gotten, the less I like going to stores. I do have a bit of agoraphobia. I hate crowds, I’m noise sensitive, I get irritated very fast. Due to my MS, I get overheated really fast which then triggers my anxiety. Oh, there’s ADHD in there too.

With all of that, I’m still here. I’m still fighting, I struggle to make sure my family gets the best of me. I struggle with my personal identity, what I love doing, what am I passionate about (seriously, what am I passionate about?). I used to have a plan. Doesn’t everyone start with a plan? Life had other ideas, other paths and I’ve been a traveler wandering where ever it takes me.

So today, and everyday, be open with who you are. Be honest about your struggles and successes. Don’t be afraid to get help if you need it. If someone tells you they think you are struggling, maybe take that seriously and see if you are.

Whatever you do, always make sure you are giving yourself the best of what you can.

Foo Fighters – The Best of You

Bullet with Butterfly Wings


“If the butterfly wings its way to the sweet light that attracts it, it’s only because it doesn’t know that the fire can consume it.” ― Giordano Bruno

Follow your passion is a line we hear all the time. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could all follow our passions? This drive towards passions has left many of us feeling bereft, useless, unfulfilled.

My passion, in my youth, was caring for animals and history, well, archaeology to be exact.

I have always had pets in my life. Currently, I have two cats, a dog, a bearded dragon, a budgie, a parrotlet, an Indian ringneck parakeet, a hamster, a 125 gallons aquarium and two smaller aquariums. Passion one met, in a way. I had wanted to be a veterinarian, but around the age of 11 I found out that vets had to euthanize animals…that dream came crashing down instantly.

I went to university and pursued my love of ancient history and archaeology. I even managed to get two degrees (BAs) in those subjects. Then I got married. My dream fell to the wayside. I kept telling myself – I could always return to school and get my master’s eventually. That never happened. Instead, real life happened. Children, bills, mortgages, divorce, remarriage, another child. I’m not an outgoing or assertive person. I have horrible anxiety. So, when someone tells me – oh you should talk to so-and-so about working in your field of story. I don’t do it. I feel too awkward and anxious to ask.

I have yet to find a career that I find fulfilling or that lights my passions. We need to stop lighting that fire that burns up the lives of so many. Yes, encourage people to follow their dreams, but also make sure to add in realistic expectations.

This is something I have struggled with. It drives my depression. I do my best to encourage my children to do what makes them happy. I think that is the key. There is nothing wrong with being happy, even if it isn’t in your dream job or career. We put so much emphasis on chasing dreams that we forget that sometimes dreams are just that.

I’ve heard money doesn’t make you happy. All I can say is that whomever said that, never had to struggle with bills or feed a family. They never had people judge them for being a have-not. They never felt overwhelmed by feelings of failure. No, money would not solve everything, but, damn, would it ever make life a bit easier if you didn’t have to worry about that mortgage.

I drive to work every morning in a line of traffic of people all doing the same. I sit in my office, working; a worker ant filling the coffers of the rich. I drive home in a line of traffic of people all doing the same. Day in, day out. Some days I just wonder what is it all for. I’m not working my passion. I’m happy-ish. I support my family, I take care of everything.

The world has drained my spirit, and I’ve become too tired of soul to argue anymore.

The Smashing Pumpkins – Bullet with Butterfly Wings