Behind starburst eyes

Depression, Suicide, and Pills

I had what I’ve read is one of the “hard” talks with Mr. C tonight. We talked about bullying, depression and suicide. We talked about how sometimes some people that are being bullied feel like they have no other option to escape their situation than to take their own life. I promised him that there is always a solution. That if we had to I would pack everything and everyone up and move 500 km away to get him out of that kind of situation. (I also explained there are other less drastic solutions we’d try first) But to never ever think he was trapped in that scenario, because if all else failed I’d hire a moving truck. I meant it. I wouldn’t want to move because of something like bullying, but I’d sure as shit do it if I knew it would make the difference between having Mr. C with me and not. See there are lots of studies that show a correlation between Autism and depression. But more importantly I know his family history, including his maternal medical history.

We then talked about depression. We talked about how sometimes for many different reasons (including but not only because of bullying) some people end up feeling like they’ve “lost their happy.No matter what they try to do, including activities they used to love, their happy seems just out of their reach. I explained that it could be because the brain isn’t making the right amount of certain chemicals. It could be because of a really hard time in a person’s life. I also explained it could happen with no obvious cause in sight. I told him it was important to talk to me or another grown-up he trusted if he felt like his happy was gone. We talked about the difference between being sad, having the blues, having the blahs, being upset and being depressed. I told him it didn’t matter which one he was feeling it was okay to talk about it and that his feelings would be respected. I promised him I would never slough off his emotions when they weren’t “happy/shiny”

I’ve read that these were hard conversations to have with your child, but for me personally that wasn’t the case. Instead I was grateful to have them with him. I was glad to hear him say that he knew suicide was never the answer. I was thrilled to hear him say he trusted me to help him find a solution should he be bullied or feel like he’d lost his happy. I’m glad because I’ve struggled for 11 months to find my happy. It’s been since we lost Joy that I can’t seem to find it. I try, and I have brief moments where it seems almost within reach, but then it slips through my fingers again. I end up staring off in the distance trying to remember how to smile like the woman I was in the hopes that if I go through the motions long enough I’ll finally BE her again. Only it hasn’t worked. I see her staring back at me through the mirror, so clear I could almost touch her, but really she’s like a faded photograph, because she’s just a reflection of who I used to be. So I went to my doctor finally and I am now taking something to help. Because I tried everything I knew, but I still couldn’t find the happy woman I used to be. Which is part of the maternal medical history I know of for my children. The part that makes me aware of how needed conversations like tonight’s was to ensure should he ever be facing a rough part on his path he’ll ask for help in walking it. Because that’s what I’m here for, to help each of them in whatever way they need. I acknowledge a part of that is also taking care of myself. In part so that I CAN be there for them, and also to show them it’s OK to ask for help when you truly need it.


If you are contemplating suicide, please contact your doctor, or go to your local emergency room, or dial 911 from any telephone.

If you are being bullied, depressed or just need someone to listen and you are under 20 you can call Kids Help Phone 24/7 for free: 1-800-668-6868.

If you are an adult and find yourself in a mental health crisis: Canadian Crisis Centres is a list of crisis centres across Canada, with local free phone numbers.

You can also dial 211 from any phone and ask to be connected with your local crisis service.

In the USA:

Crisis Service: 24/7 for free help 1-800-273-8255


Suicide Sucks

Because it needs to be talked about. Depression needs to be accepted as real and difficult, and needs to be talked about. As does the potential consequence of living with it.

Vintage Hearts At Home

It was later on Sunday evening, the 7th of December 2014 when my cell phone rang. It was next to me on the couch. My battery was low and I couldn’t answer it but I saw that it was my sister Carrie. We had just talked a few hours earlier about nothing really, just our Dad and how old he was. We joked that he didn’t look his age and that we were inheriting good genes from him in exchange for bad knees and hips. When I saw her calling I remember thinking that was weird because if she forgot something, she would of sent a text. As soon as I had that thought the house phone rang. Our landline. Which no one calls except telemarketers. Without even seeing the phone I knew it was her. I told my hunny to toss me his cell so I could call her…

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Long, short or none, still a woman

My womanhood is not dictated by the length of my hair.

So last week I found lice in Mr. N’s hair. I checked my own and found a nit. My solution was simple, I washed everything and I shaved our heads (and Mr. C’s just in case as Mr. N loves to climb into bed with him and lay his head on his brothers and snuggle. A fact that leads me to near tears because of the vast change in his ability to handle physical contact, but I digress)

I thought I was judged a lot when I had pink hair, but WOW it was nothing compared to walking around as a woman with a shaved head. I have had people stare, snort their distain and even ask me if I actually think I’m still pretty without my hair. Here’s what it’s made me realize. We as a society are FAR too critical of everyone, especially strangers! While I logically understand that our judgemental tendency most likely stems from thousands of years of not trusting anything different our “outside of our tribe” as part of our means of survival, it doesn’t stop it from bothering me at times when I am judged by strangers. But then I breathe and try to remember that no one, not a stranger, not a friend, not even a family member has the right to dictate what I do with my body.

Something as temporary and superficial as a hair cut does not change what gender I identify as. I am not “less of a woman” because I only have an 1/4 inch of hair on my head. Just as I was not “more of a woman” when I had long tresses. What makes women; women is their intrinsic belief that they are. What makes me a woman is within me, it’s my spirit, not my hair or clothes.


Unbirthday Tea Party

images-4  Mr.N has been quite emotional lately. Very easily upset, to the point of being distraught. It hurts my heart to see him like this. A big part of it is he’s so very sick of being sick. His cough has finally stopped sounding like a seal’s bark and he can breathe through his nose again, but he’s still not 100% better. Tonight I looked at him, quickly looked at the calendar and exclaimed “Oh my goodness! I almost didn’t realize what tomorrow was!” Intrigued he asked me “what?” So with great seriousness I told him “Why, it’s your unbirthday of course!” He told me it wasn’t. So I asked if it was his birthday, he said no hesitantly so I said “Well that settles it. It must be true, tomorrow is your very own certified unbirthday!” I made a big deal of looking at the calendar again and exclaimed “Oh my! Well it just can’t be…But it must. Yes…Yes it must be!” He got excited at this point and asked me what it must be. I said “Why it’s ALL of your unbirthdays tomorrow!” He started to giggle, a sound all too absent these last couple of weeks. I told him we had to have an unbirthday tea party to celebrate. I assured him that while he was sleeping I would make special star covered cakes to nibble on during their unbirthday tea party. Which are now finished, and come morning I’ll have them help me make and decorate our paper top hats which we’ll wear for their unbirthday tea party. Cause silly is totally doable if it’ll make them smile.


New Years Resolution Update

I don’t often make New Years Resolutions, I think the concept is overrated and tends to lead to personal disappointment when they are broken shortly thereafter. Last year however, I did make one (to learn ASL) while I didn’t learn as much as I’d wanted to on my own (the syntax really is something that has to be experienced to be learnt properly, at least for me it was) I didn’t give up. Instead after trying my best on my own, I enrolled in my local college’s ASL 101 course. I finished it with an 3.3 GPA (88%) and I’m proud of all I’ve learnt. The instructor was invaluable to the amount I learnt. She was patient with all of my mistakes and would take the time to show me the correct signs. That is on top of the actual course load she taught us all! I am now enrolled in the second course with the same instructor and due to start that one in just over a week’s time. While I am far from where I’d wanted to be in terms of how much of the language I’ve learnt, I’m proud of both all I have learnt as well as my continuation of this learning journey. I didn’t give up when I found it difficult, I simply found a different way to go about it. One that might be a bit slower than I’d hoped, but slow and steady is far better than just giving up.


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