Hurricane of Anxiety

With Hurricane Sandy almost upon us in Ontario I... am freaking the hell out. Ahh the joys of anxiety. Nothing is quite as much fun as irrational thinking brought on by current events.

Despite the fact that I'm still cracking jokes and sitting calmly on my couch (Not boarding over windows and high tailing it to somewhere I think is "safe"), my stomach is turning and I'm fighting back tears. This is why I don't watch the news, read papers, and selectively read posts on the internet. I am not a person who deals well with things out of my control, I really don't deal well with severe weather.

I'm horribly worried about my friends in the direct line of Hurricane Sandy. I'm horribly worried about my daughter and if I should be taking her to school tomorrow. I'm horribly worried about my mum who lives in a modular home in the country. I'm just horribly worried. Horribly, horribly worried.

My stomach is absolutely in knots. I'm not panicking. I'm not freaking out. I'm just watching TV, not the news, just some true crime show I ran across. I am however watching twitter and facebook and my friends updates.

Every part of me wants to curl up with my baby, where I know exactly where she is and what shes doing at every moment. I want to make my mum come to my house where I can keep her safe, or at least keeps us together. I want to gather supplies and turn my windowless bathroom into a bunker and hide out until the storm is over.

I know I'm thinking irrationally. I know that my home is built soundly and we're almost guaranteed our safety here. I know my friends are all taking proper precautions to ensure their safety. It doesn't matter. My brain won't shut off. I'm worried. Terribly terribly worried. Completely unable to rationalize the situation.

For the first time in months I am seriously contemplating taking one of my "panic pills" aka lorazapam so I can sleep tonight.

Can I just say... I. Fucking. Hate. My. Anxiety. Disorder.

Darkness

I wish I had answers.

I always do.

Truth is, I don't have a clue.

Chemical imbalance, illness, emotions.

They're all just words. You can find them all in a dictionary or on google. You can seek their definitions and be able to recite them word for word.

Unfortunately mental illness changes from person to person. There isn't one clear meaning or reaction. No matter what the internet, doctors and dictionaries say.

We all spiral differently.

There are shades of darkness.

Some of us fight the darkness with substances.

Some of us fight the darkness with self harm.

Some of us don't fight the darkness, but embrace it like an old friend.

If we hurt other people, we're hurting ourselves twice, three times, four times more.

I am still in my break down.

The start, the middle, the end, I don't know.

I still wake up every morning wishing I hadn't.

Take that as you will.

My life is not my own, it belongs to a curly haired little girl who loves me more than I think anyone ever has.

I don't have choices of my own.

Right now my choices belong to my daughter and my illness.

They want very different things.

My illness tells me I don't care. My illness tells me sleep. My illness tells me everything and everyone can fuck off.

My daughter tells me she loves me. Tells me to play. Tells me to read. Tells me to live.

I will never have answers, I can only hope for solutions.

If it takes 18 hours of sleep a day to spend 6 with my Monkey, I accept that for the moment.

I feel safe in the darkness. Like a warm blanket on a cold night.

I don't know what will or is happening. I know I fight in my own way. You may not see it, you may not like it, you may not accept it but this is the control my illness has.

Beyond the 140: Part 1

I've been sitting on this all weekend. How do I explain something so amazing that I'm not sure it really happened. How do I tell you I spend 4 days falling in love with strangers. How do I express the feeling of bottled magic. I'm going to try. I will not do it justice but hopefully I can at least acknowledge those who touched my soul.

This will not be a 1 part post... It will take me days to wrestle through the emotions this post will take.

And with that said, I'll start with my Knight In Shining Armour, Lyndon. We met up at the airport unexpectedly on our way to New York. He was on the earlier flight, but I got there early and we had some time to talk. After finding out I was super nervous to get from the airport to the hotel he offered to wait for an hour on the other end and travel with me. This was only the start of Lyndons chivalry. Waiting places for me,  taking in a room mate he had never met because I asked him to, coming back to the airport, sleep and family deprived to drive me home. This is just what he did, it doesn't even get into how just his presence kept me calm and his voice made me smile.

I say I fell madly in love with strangers, and I did, none more so than Matteo. From the moment we were in the same room the first time I knew my life was better because he was in it. We connected. I wanted him in our world, involved in our fun. I wanted to experience 140 with him. We had so many sparkling moments, not big moments, but important ones. It was like we had been friends for our entire lives. I ran like a crazy person to make his talk Wednesday morning and to see him come so alive on stage brought tears to my eyes. I was lucky enough to get to connect with his partner Pheobe online and realized that the awesome ran through this family like a waterfall. Proof that true beauty finds its mirror image.

Just writing about these 2 amazing men has brought on the tears. I went through so many kleenexes the past week that I should probably be out planting trees. I spent 4 days in New York and saw none of the city, but I saw world changers, dream makers, I saw magic with my own two eyes.

Going into day 1 only hours from my talk I spoke to my dear friend Kat. My nerves were frazzled and my anxiety through the roof. I told her I had no idea how I was going to speak between my childhood hero, Carlos Delgado, and a man who inspires me every single day, Mark Horvath. I didn't know how I could possibly come up to their level. She looked at me and told me I could do it, I would do it and I would be great. I stopped and breathed in the air around me, then put it out of my mind. To think about it would spiral me into anxiety. People asked if I was ready, if I had my talk together, I laughed and said I wouldn't know until I hit the stage. How true this was, no one actually knew. I had nothing when I got to New York, absolutely nothing prepared. I woke up at 6am that day, realizing I had another hour or so to sleep I curled up and closed my eyes.

Then I had a dream... A dream featuring another new friend, Tiffany. I was giving my talk just to her. Her stunning smile was the only thing I saw. I woke up and knew. I knew exactly what I was going to say, how I was going to say it... I knew I was about to bare my soul and I knew it was going to be worth it. The nerves and anxiety never went away, but from the moment I opened my eyes after that dream I was in control. I was prepared to take on the world. It was my time to stand up and sparkle.

I was ready...


To be continued...

The Fear of Opportunity

So my last post I talked about the amazing opportunity that #140conf is going to be for me. I am vibrating with excitement, fear, amazement and nerves. Getting to see and talk to Jeff this week was even more uplifting. Knowing what is coming in the future settled my brain a bit. Plus Jeff radiates magic and I can't help but learn from him and be in awe when he is around.

Now here is my fear.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing. For 8 months my life has been focused on 140 in NYC, now it's here and then what? What do I do next? This is supposed to be my big break but I don't know how to grab it. I don't know who to talk to, who to work with, who to grab by the arm and hold on to.

What do I do?

Like I've said, in a perfect world I would be singing. This would actually support my family and allow me to finance projects to help end the stigma of mental illness. But that's a perfect world. Right now I'm scared my life will never move beyond a minimum wage. That I won't be able to support my daughter like she deserves. That I won't be able to reach the people who need me to be their voice when they can't be. What if I have built this up so much in my head that I have made the pedestal too high.

The last few weeks my confidence has been super high. I know what I have to offer and I know that I can and will be an asset to this world. Right now though, I'm like a toddler. I see blocks, I see a tower, but I have no idea how to make those blocks into a tower. I am missing that crucial middle piece that tells me how to take the raw potential I have and turn it into something great.

How do I do it?

Do you know? Can you help me? What do I do at the starting line to get me to the finish?

I have seen miracles. I have worked hard. I am ready to be the person I dream of being. I just need to know how.

JLo, Oprah and the $10 Tattoo

Fireworks. All I can say about this week is, Fireworks. It's been a beautiful, shocking, stunning week and it's only Tuesday!

~ Picture drawn by me today in art therapy

Anyone can read about yesterdays fantastic CAS news on my post yesterday, its all gone up from there. 

This morning I headed out to an appointment I made quite awhile ago for a tattoo when things were a bit better financially. I had a gift card that had been travelling around in my wallet and thought "Well, I may as well go and hope for the best. Worst that happens is I do the outline and no shading and go back". Turns out the best was great! Watching the clock the whole time, we got going and 45 minutes from walking in the door it was done. I actually didn't believe him. I was shocked. It was so fast! And Gord was amazing. Super light hand (anyone with tattoos knows how important that is). So... $10 later I had my newest tattoo. I love it. I can't wait to have my bird added to it! This is one of my favorite songs, as well as my motto for my anxiety. I just need to Let It Be.

While I'm sitting in the tattoo chair, I was checking my email and there it was. An email from the casting director for an unnamed documentary on the Oprah Winfrey Network asking me to be in Toronto tomorrow. Me. Oprah Network. Me. I was lucky enough to have met Andrea Syrtash, the host, at last weeks #140NYC conference meet-up in Toronto and she passed my info on to casting. The episode is about triumphs and failures (both of which I have many of lol). So in the morning i'll be off to shoot. HOLY CRAP!

Driving home on my tattoo/Oprah high I'm listening to our local radio radio station, about 30 seconds from my house they did a "ticket ambush". A ticket ambush is where you show up somewhere in town where the DJ is and they give you concert tickets. It happens that they were at their radio station about 4 minutes from my house. I figured, what the hell and off I went to the radio station to see if I could maybe get lucky, again. I did. I hit the station first and not only got to see my buddy Sylvan, I won 2 tickets to see JLo and Enrique Iglasias in Toronto. Again... HOLY CRAP! (I'm taking my friend Kinga who was more excited then me winning at me asking her to go. It was awesome :D)

Ok, so I've now gotten lucky 3 times in one day and thought half jokingly, I should buy a lotto ticket. Well I had to stop at the corner store anyway so I did buy a scratch ticket... and won $10! Uh hello? My luck just made my tattoo essentially free. 

Yes... I'm feeling stunned and amazed right now. And blessed, so so blessed.  Coming up I have the documentary shoot tomorrow, and events leading up to #140confNYC State Of Now conference, Latitudes festival, JLo concert and so much more. My friend Jacki said to me "it feels like it could be a shift" and I agree. I am going to grab these opportunities and hang on tight. I'm ready. 

All the work I've been doing myself, in therapy, in group... I am ready. There will still be days that my anxiety takes over. There will still be days when I'm depressed. Mental illness doesn't just go away because life gets better, but I will hold on to the feelings I'm having right now to try and keep myself grounded and moving forward. Perhaps now is my time. 

Now Is My Time.

Just When You Thought You Knew Everything

So there isn't much I shy away from talking about in the relative safety of my internet bubble. Homelessness, depression, anxiety, suicide, heartbreak, love, family... I'm what can be defined as an open book. But we all have our secrets.

My secret is embarrassing, shameful and not even my closest friends know. My therapist however, after hearing my stories of love and support thinks that being open about my issues will help me. She likes you people.

I have a 5 seater car, until last week it sat 2, me and one other person. And not comfortably.

I have a 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment. Only one bathroom is used and really neither bedroom should be.

Part of my anxiety disorder has caused a hoarding compulsion.

I am a hoarder.

Now, to be straight, I am not like those people on A&E who live in a house filled to the rafters, have dead animals buried under newspaper and are "collecting" jars or dolls or books or old medical specimens. I have floor and know what it looks like in most rooms (all but mine actually). I am however, chronically disorganized and have a very hard time getting rid of things.

My house is stacked full of stuff. Good stuff, bad stuff, stuff I have forgotten exists, Stuff.

I am paranoid when it comes to getting rid of things. After being homeless and losing everything, letting go of things feels near impossible. I worry what would happen if I needed something I got rid of and couldn't replace it again. Even ridiculous things like clothes my daughter has outgrown, dollar store items that are broken or of no use anymore, things that i'm not sure where they came from or what they were for but I must have gotten for a reason so I can't let go.

What I didn't realize entirely until the last month or so is how much this impacts every aspect of my life. I don't use my kitchen. This is an expensive and inconvenient problem. Monkey isn't home 2 meals a day during the week, so during the day I just don't eat. After I pick her up we go to the grocery store or a restaurant and get what we need for the night. Constantly buying small amounts of food is so expensive, sometimes I just buy for her and I skip dinner too. Weekends and some evenings were not home as much as possible, we eat at my mums or friends or eat out. I spend a lot of my time planning how not to be home.

Until this week, no one but myself and the Monkey had been in my house in over a year. I'd just say our house was too small, or point out that it was out of the way for people to come to our place out of town, or just flat out say no. I would tell people my house looked as if a tornado came through and they would laugh and say "Oh mine too" and I would laugh along because they had no idea.

This week I got notices from my building that it was inspection time of year and that they would be coming to do inspections for damages and to check safety equipment. I panicked. I have spent most of the week having full blown anxiety attacks and throwing up and twitching from stress. (Did I mention my doc changed my meds last week? I'm sure that isn't helping.) Completely incapable of even starting to correct the situation.

My amazing boyfriend cleaned out my car last week and I had admitted to him that my house and my car were pretty much the same. I tried to get through to him the severity of the issue without causing him to run screaming for the hills. Somehow I was convinced (still not sure how, part of me thinks voodoo was involved) to let him help me. Armed with garbage bags, cleaning supplies and more paper towel then you can shake a stick at, I took him to my house. He took a look around and said "Let's get started". No shame, no badgering, no attempt at therapy, just let's get started. It was exactly what I needed. Someone to tell me what to do and when to do it. It's not that i'm incapable of doing the work, its that I have become so overwhelmed by it that I have no idea what to do. I needed someone to take charge and I needed to not be alone doing it.

In two hours of work we filled 7 garbage bags of junk, 4 bags of donations and did a rough sort of the things I planned on keeping. All this was solely in the front hall and kitchen. There were clothes I forgot I owned, things I didn't remember buying and garbage, just hoards and hoards of garbage. Garbage and shame. Every time we would uncover another bag I forgot about, there was more shame. I had become so accustomed to not being able to find things that I just would replace them, which just added more and more stuff to the already unmanageable amount of stuff I owned.

Hoarding is a vicious circle.

Thursday they are supposed to be coming to do the inspection, tonight I'm making an incredibly hard call to see if I can postpone a week so that I have a chance to make changes and hopefully clear out some things, make space and find the home amongst the mess. Tonight I am also formulating a plan. Last night I tried just diving in and ended up a puking, crying mess on the floor who accomplished nothing but upsetting myself into a massive panic attack. I am making check lists for every room, breaking the tasks down to their simplest, smallest element. I am preparing myself to walk in and work.

I know this is a problem, I don't enjoy living this way and I know the Monkey deserves better. This sets me apart from most hoarders. I want to change. I just need help. So tomorrow I'm going to try. I can't make promises I can't keep, especially to myself, but I can try.