A personal revelation

In the language of notebook doodle, of course.



I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t go back to the lead-up to my hospital stay. And it’s given me writers block! I have learned that there will be some goals that I just won’t meet – and there are definitely a bunch that I won’t meet on my questionable schedule of when I can do things. Will you accept an IOU on that rather difficult story?


Tales From The Psych Ward – Intro

62856_436468245804_2911966_nRecently, I spent a night in the emergency room and two in the psych ward mental health floor of my local hospital. If you’re a regular reader, please don’t worry! It was voluntary, I was not physically hurt, and I am glad I did it.

But it did happen. If I am asked outright, I don’t want to deny it. So I’ll be interrupting other types of posting and making a goal to describe my experience in four parts. A good friend of mine told me to not pretend it didn’t happen, not try to chunk the Catalina that found herself in the hospital – the way I wanted to chunk myself out of life.

Not to be alarming but. Oh. My Gosh.

Do not read if you’ve always thought the zombie invasion would eventually come…because 1 in 3 of us are infected with this little sucker, which has effects on our brains including but not limited to increased risk of depression, delayed reaction time, double the risk of traffic accidents, and interestingly, decreased fear of snakes and spiders (..I love snakes and spiders). 

NOTE: Cat ownership is not a predictor of infection – probably because cat owners typically know their kitty well enough to avoid bites, at least enough to bring our risk down to that of the general population (that’s my guess anyway).

However, the parasite, Toxoplasma gondii, may be transmitted through cat bites or broken skin when cleaning the litterbox. So:

Do get your kitty de-wormed every 3 months to protect yourself and the ones you love,

Don’t clean the litter box without gloves – and always wash your hands afterward. 

SO. I’m…gonna go buy some disposable gloves now.  



Finding Yourself

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAHere is a great blog post I stumbled on, by Jennifer Boykin. It’s a refreshing bucket-of-water-in-the-face to my perfectionist side self. Favourite quote:

I KNEW that I was where I was supposed to be. But it took a LOT of Half-Assery.

 I do love a good, inspiring blog post/article/youtube – so, send them my way if you’ve got’em :)


A Frightening Wake-up Call (trigger warning, self-harm)

A few nights ago, I told boyfriend leave my house. By yelling, repeatedly.

Go, Please just go.

Very understandably, boyfriend couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that I really wanted felt the need to hurt myself. What I wanted was to find a way to make that miserable urgency go away. What he saw was that I was it hurting, and he wanted to help. I know how important it is to him, to be able to help somehow.

I told him the only thing he could do to help is to please call someone for me. He seemed upset; he was upset. He thought we would be able to solve this, just the two of us. He thought it was just an argument. I told him I’d find a way to help solve the argument tomorrow but for now I needed to talk to someone because something else was going on. I didn’t care about the argument anymore, didn’t care about much anymore except for the single-minded urge to go numb.

He left, thank goodness for both of us, and I called a helpline, and finally fell asleep when Charlotte curled up beside me, warm fluff nestled against my fatigued figure.

Here’s what they said on the helpline. Don’t worry  about anyone else tonight. Tonight just worry about yourself. Go through your evening routine, then go to bed. You need to do what’s best for you right now, and deal with the rest later.

The way I had felt was nothing like my normal state of mind. It was a numbing, a loss of hope, an inevitability. An instinct of sorts kicking in – maybe it’s fight, flight, freeze, float away? I floated away, the feisty me. And I wanted to give in, because I mistakenly thought it best.

It wouldn’t have been best.

Actually, it would have been the worst. A friend told me recently,

Life is too short to cash your own check.

And I believe it, 100%. But the truth is that I don’t know what happened the other night, and I’m well – scared to death.

Stay safe everyone. And never hesitate to ask for help – whether it’s from a 24-hour phone line, a best friend, a relative. In the worst, saddest moment, help is still out there. Hope is still out there.

 Note: I thought for a long time about whether this was the right thing to publish here. There is always a choice about what parts of your life to include or not on a blog. But I write here to feel less alone and to help others feel less alone, and I believe this post does that. Thanks for reading!

The Savages: Addiction and Blaming


wonderful, thoughtful post on the stigma of addiction.

Originally posted on Pride in Madness:

Talk of self harm

Talk of drugs and death

On Sunday February 2, 2014 we lost an amazing talent, Philip Seymour Hoffman.

His battle with addiction began after he graduated from college. He went to rehab for drug and alcohol addiction and recovered at age 22. In May 2013 he checked himself into rehab for 10 days due to a relapse after more than 20 years of sobriety.

Addiction was clearly not new to Hoffman and a relapse after 20+ years shows us how long an addiction can stay with you. Still, it is 100% worth acknowledging that as a young man, Hoffman threw his addiction to the curb and went on to have an extremely successful acting and theatre career.

Philip Seymour Hoffman Oscar 2013

If the death of such an amazing man wasn’t enough of a blow, if losing another brother to addiction wasn’t causing enough pain, I have had to…

View original 393 more words

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