Today is not great. But tomorrow will be better.


Here again. Granted I only have myself to blame. The signs were there. I chose not to see them.

I’m on leave. My Mental Health has reached a state where I can’t Life right now. I can’t People right now. I’m sick of masking myself. It’s exhausting.

I need a break. I am taking a break. And I will not be bullied into doing anything before I am ready. They tell you to reach out if you need help, there is help. There MAY indeed be help but there are still entirely too many ignorant people in the System that outright bully and belittle. My younger self may have folded. My adult self will not tolerate this. I digress.

For the first time in a long time I am being honest with myself. I am not happy and I do not wish to sacrifice any more of myself to greedy corporations who are only looking out for their best interests. I need to look out for mine. That means returning to Therapy. I did not see that coming a few years back but here we are. I may need to adjust my work schedule should I return. I need to dive passionately into my love of Creativity as it is truly one of the few things that makes me happy.

“What have I been doing?” I have been asked.

“Crocheting” is my answer.

Some days I only get out of bed to work on a current WIP or Design I have in my head. I have recently stumbled upon the Crochet Community and I am into it. I’ve been Crocheting for YEARS on and off. I learned quite young and have always gravitated towards it especially in times of Metal Strife. I can slip away into my stitches and if nothing else I can see that I have done something with my time, even if only a few stitches or rows.


*** Written in 2017 ***

I am not alone and yet I feel like I am so very alone.  I get lonely and that makes me sad.  Maybe it’s a “me-problem”.  Maybe it’s not.

I had a pretty good day.  I had the house to myself which I enjoy, and I had the morning off.  For once I used my time somewhat productively and wrote a blog or 2, made a few calls that I had been procrastinating and had myself a little pre-work bubble bath (mostly just because I needed to shave the bottom half of my legs…).  Either way, it was good.  Better then most mornings I have off.  Most mornings I have off I sleep until I can’t sleep anymore or I cry and feel frustrated.  At the end of the day I feel very alone.

I live with someone and 2 family members and 2 cats so physically, I am not alone.  But emotionally and mentally I feel lonely.  I want to talk to someone about my day,  how I am feeling, what I want to do on the weekend … but I can’t.  So instead I will vent to my computer, typing instead of talking.

It’s not yet 10pm and everyone is in bed.  Everyone works earlier then I do so I can’t hold that against them.  But still, where is my confidant when I need him? Lately it feels as though he is distant.  Again, not sure if this is a “me-problem” or not.  Maybe I require too much attention? Though when I think about it that doesn’t make a lick of sense.  I don’t get very much one to one attention these days so it’s not like I am asking for much.  I feel like we used to talk more, do more things together, we used to be “on the same page” about everything.  Now I feel like I am writing our book by myself.

Where is my support?  Where is my help?  Sometimes I just need a hug and someone to tell me I am okay, that I am doing okay, that I will be okay… but often times I find I have to hug myself and reassure myself that I am okay, I am doing okay and I will be okay.

Tonite I don’t feel so okay.  I am avoiding the dread in the back of my head and I am just hoping (maybe even praying) that I wake up and feel okay tomorrow morning.  Some nights I just lay awake and think about everything and nothing all at the same time.  I worry that I won’t sleep at all or that I will wake up feeling like I want to crawl into a hole and hide.  I feel like tomorrow [night] will just be the same as tonite and so on and so forth into the week.  I will be my comfort and support and confidant all week, by Friday night I am wiped.  Weekends have become a but drab.  I guess I can’t compete with certain things or people.  I feel deflated.  Like someone has taken the wind out of my sails.

I thought that when I got a job we could start to plan our future better, I thought that it would change something for us in the get-our-own-place department but either way we can’t get our own place for months yet.  So I suppose I am disappointed.  Not only in him but in myself.  I am disappointed in myself for again, being too nice, too helpful, too easy going.

Just Write

It’s been awhile.

A lot has changed.

I have been up. I have been down. I have learned so much.

I don’t know where to start….

I stopped writing, creating, really. I started working in a Warehouse. I got myself off of Social Assistance. I (with my partner) got an apartment. I thought Life was really coming together.

Things started to unravel just before COVID hit. Almost 6 months before COVID to be exact. I started to feel stressy, depressy, homesick, and lost. Upon leaving therapy my therapist warned me I was not finished. I begged to differ and was steadfast on my decision, but suddenly felt a pang of “uh ohs” enter my body. I had been out of therapy at least 2 years at this point.


You know, for the anxiety riddled wack job I can be, I surprised myself during those first months-and first year- of COVID. I was lucky enough to have chosen a career that allowed me to continue working, OUTSIDE my home (thus getting my self-isolating ass out of the house which was and is much needed). I fought my fight or flight response that so desperately wanted to take flight and run. Run away. Take leave. Get out. But I didn’t. I stayed. So many left, but I stayed.

I thought it would get better. Summer would come and this will end.

Summer came. Then Fall. Winter again. Not only is COVID prevailing, it’s mutating. I now have to wear a at mask at work. Every day, all day. My partner was laid off for a period. Then I was laid off. Our wages were greatly affected by this, and quite honestly, I never recovered.

Regardless, I enter 2021 with a renewed hope. This was short lived as by April I was extremely depressed. Broke. Living with the love of my life yet feeling lonelier than ever. Nothing is getting better. The job I once loved is now such a chore. Not to mention the TURNOVER of people was and is at a rate I have never seen before. Unfamiliar people everywhere, in masks no less, I still don’t know what a lot of my co workers really look like. But I digress.

By May I announced that I felt we needed to move home. I needed to go home. I needed to feel I was somewhere that felt like home, not an overpriced shit hole I was clinging to because “its what your SUPPOSED to do”…right…?!? Pfffft. When do I ever do what I’m “supposed to” anyways? (I always choose the Hard Road for context). I felt this was the BEST possible decision, go home. Everything will be fine if I just GET HOME. It took 2 months, moving what we could, back to our mother’s houses, on weekends off. I did not want anyone to know I was moving so I made it extra stressful on myself by not taking time off to move. I just used all of my spare time to load and unload my little Toyota pick-up as many times as I could. I was exhausted. Mentally and physically.

We gave notice to vacate the apartment by the first of August. I spent my first night at home (in over 5 years) on July 10, 2021. This gives me chills because this date is turning out to be a reoccurring one in my life. My Fathers Funeral was July 10. My first day at my job that I love was July 10. Now my first night back where I started – July 10. WILD.

I cried a lot those first few nights. I was home but I felt lost, still. Was this the right choice?? I miss my own EVERYTHING. Where is this? Where is that? I have no idea because I started panic moving and just threw everything wherever I could. My cat is stressed. Does my partner miss me? Even though he was a fixture on the couch I miss him. I want to be by myself yet when I’m by myself I get sad and cry. I don’t know what I am doing.

For awhile I partially lived in an insulated 40 foot Trailer when I first came home. We had one in the backyard. How convenient. There seemed to be no room in the house for me and I was happy to live out my tiny house dreams. By October, however, this bubble burst when I woke up to our first good freeze of the season. My little Trailer Home, being only steps from the House, had no bathroom or kitchenette. It was more of a Bedroom/Studio than a tiny home but don’t tell my previous Trailer self that. As it became colder and the threat of Snow became more real I thought it might be a good idea to move into the house to sleep. At least for the Winter. I almost shat my pants running across the lawn one night after a major disagreement with a spicy chicken sandwich, should that problem arise again I do not want to have to fight with a foot of snow and frozen doors because I do believe it would just cause a whole mess of problems. Pun intended.

It’s around this time I start to lose my period and have hot flashes. What a trip. I’m also down to 102 pounds and nothing fits. What is happening?!? Time goes by. Weeks. Months. Still no period. The hot flashes have now turned into a way of life. I set out extra pyjamas knowing full well I will wake up AT LEAST once, absolutely drenched in sweat. I will need a change AT LEAST once. I pick out my clothes solely for function. Most comfortable, and light garments, easy to remove hoodies. Thank goodness I work in a Warehouse and I can just wear sweats and t-shirts. I sleep with a fan on. I’ve positioned my bed to be close to the window so I can open it and breathe in the frozen air. I thought I’d be too cold in my little Trailer. I may have thought wrong.

I do some research and all signs point to Periomenopause. Fantastic. Because I’m not unhinged ENOUGH.

I have managed to gain some weight in the months since I moved into the house. I still have no period. Though I was unsure of wether or not I wanted children I did not expect to potentially be robbed of the choice. My partner very much wants children, I do not blame him nor do I want to rob him of this experience. I do fear that this could lead to him leaving me but so far he is still here. Do I worry that I am unknowingly pregnant? Nope. Because in order to become pregnant once must engage in a certain activity. That activity has also been MIA for quite some time. Does this cause red flags? Indeed. But again, I digress. Bigger fish to fry.

*EDIT* It has been confirmed that it is Peri menopause. It has also become clear to me that I have been ignoring my Mental Health and currently am taking some time away from that job that I so “loved” 5 years ago. I am again in search of myself and what makes me happy in life.