Archive for January, 2015

I am strong but weak.

January 25, 2015

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I’m independent, I’m stubborn, I like to think I’m strong. But I’m also weak.
Whether or not being strong is an illusion I’ve created about myself, or truth, I like to think I hold my own in many areas.
I try to support those around me, I try to be there as much as I can in bad times and good. I try to use our journey to help others feeling lost.

I teach my daughter compassion and strength as a young lady, to be secure in herself and know she’s good enough.
I teach my son he is loved and worthy, even when I have to repeat it while holding him close while trying to ease his pain and his fears,when he feels like we’d be better off without him.
I teach my children they are strong enough to conquer whatever it is they set out to do.

I give a lot, or try to.  I am a mother  wife, daughter, friend, businesswomen, florist, batrista. I take each role seriously. I only got one shot.
I am not good at recieving compliments, I am not good at recieving hugs, I am good at asking for help, but try my best not to. Because I can do it all right? Wrong.

I am good at being just fine, I don’t want to bore others with our constant struggles of trying to manage a bipolar child, I know you’re all sick of it.
I am good at being honest about it, advocating for it, and making the best of it.
But  there’s moments and days you don’t see the tears I cry after watching my child try to strangle himself, you don’t see the daily battle to just simply get him out of bed. You don’t see the constant monitoring until things are balanced again.
You do see the smile on my face, you hear me ask how you are, and listen and watch while we chat about your day.

I am not saying I am not interested or care, because I truly do.  But there are days it’s all I can do to put that smile on my face, there’s days I need to be alone in my thoughts. There are days I really don’t have the energy to chat about the weather, because frankly the weather seems irrelevant when I have a crisis going on at home,I’m just trying to keep my mind off it.

I take pride in and love being there for friends, customers and family.  There’s nothing else I’d rather do.  But every now and then it would be nice if someone asked if I was OK. 

A few this week when things were really not good I was reminded of just how much people need each other, even unspoken. I had a friend ask and listen to how I was, while I got a load off my chest she simply listened. I am lucky to have a select few who do do this. I also received a hug from my mom (a non hugger like me) as she told me how proud she was.  I got frequent hugs, simple words and reassuring calls and texts from my husband during an especially hard day with our boy.

I was reminded that we all need that.
Yes even me. 
And though I am often surprised by who takes the time to ask and who doesn’t the truth is that those who do are those I choose. 

Not many people do I let see my heart, because I gaurd it pretty securely. Many would assume that they know it because I am so open, but they only know what I choose to expose.

My hearts pretty special to me, and it would appear has a lot to give. But it also has had its share of hurt and betrayal.

Yes I am strong, but no one is strong enough to live life alone. Weakness at moments does not mean that you are not strong, it means you are human, it means that you care and that you feel.
And that is the epitome of strength to me.
Some days it just takes someone to ask.

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Have a little hope.

January 19, 2015

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In a world where we often don’t have control over much, we do always have control over certain things.

We live in a fast paced world, with somewhere to always be, someone to always be helping. We live in a world full of pain and sadness, trials and tribulations that our ancestors wouldn’t dream of.

I choose to slow down, possibly place myself in a bubble from time to time so I can control what I can.
I also choose hope.
Because there’s times when our world’s are spinning out of it. And sometimes it’s up to us to take it back, as much as possible at least, unfortunately we can’t always have it all.
There will always be those things we can’t control, be it if our kids treatments are working, the horrific shootings we hear on the news, the poverty ridden children all over the world, and so on.

We can always choose to have hope.
There will always be a sliver of hope, always a chance it will all be OK, even a little one. And there will always be hope that it (whatever it may be) will be OK.

The chances are we’ve all lost hope a time or two. But some how we always seem to see that glimmer and pull us through until the next time it’s needed.

Hope doesn’t seem to be needed every day of your life. It comes and goes with circumstances.
There’s two good things about this.
One, it’s proof that there are good times and things where everything  seems to be going along good with you not needing to tap into the hope reserve. Second when you do need to tap in, there’s no set amount of it to be had. So there’s as much as you need!

We can always control how much hope we have, so choose to have a lot, choose to never loose it.
Hope is yours and yours alone.

I’ll be damned.

January 11, 2015

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I try really hard to find the good, in everything.  But I am human and some days just suck. Some days I cry, some days I am angry and some are a bit of it all!
There’s been times I’ve had people say to me (because I’ve used my voice to advocate anti bullying, mental health etc),  “that’s not very nice, it’s not what you should say when your against this that or the other”.  Mainly I get this when something has pushed me to far,  I would love to see how the people saying this to me would respond, guaranteed pretty close or worse. But they’d just be quieter about it, because being silent has gotten us so far. No I’ll speak up thanks.
And here’s a surprise, I’M HUMAN!
We all are. We screw up and mess up. We get sad and mad. We hurt and cry. And laugh and love.
I get extremely frustrated when I see or hear certain things. Typically unjust things involving those battling some sort of battle. Be it judgemental comments or jokes at others expense (their illness, disability, etc), the fact that so many in society continue to use others as a source of humour absolutely angers me like almost nothing else, or ignorance by people who refuse to even try and understand.

Damn rights I get angry and offended and say something. It’s not who I am to just let stuff like that go without saying something. I guess that’s the difference between me and some others, I will say something, with hopes it may make a sliver of change.
I refuse to a) be passive and just accept ignorance and stigmas continue b) be made to feel bad for doing so and being human who yes gets angry from time to time.

Not everyone is as comfortable or able to use their voice as I do, so I take that as I best raise mine some more.

Mental illness is tough, so tough.
I often get asked why I’m so tired, not like I do much. Well aside from running a small business solo, it should be noted that raising children is exhausting, raising one with ultra rapid cycling bipolar would knock many off their feet.

I

suppose what I’m trying really hard to get across is that being human does not

make me less. As it does not make those with an illness or disability or the victim of bullying or abuse less.

We all feel.

We as mother’s want nothing more than for our children to be happy and healthy.
Everyone is someone’s child. Maybe if people thought that through a bit they wouldn’t be so quick to laugh, suggest or judge.
I will never not be who I am. Nor will I feel bad for this. I will continue as I always have to be emotional, passionate, stubborn and verbal.

Because for so many it’s to late to speak up, I’ll be damned if it’s to late for my child, or yours.

A glimpse into the life…
https://bestkids.wordpress.com/2014/10/19/bipolarliveshere

Lessons from grandpa

January 5, 2015

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My grandpa was my hero and I his little  angel.
12 years have passed since I lost one of the most influential people in my life. My grandpa would be celebrating his 100 th birthday this month, one special occasion we shared. 

The man should have never made it to where he did (being highly premature in 1915 was not what it is today, fighting the front lines of the entire second world war was almost unheard of) but in doing so he brought so much to so many. My Grandpa taught me many many lessons.  Most of which can be transferred to all parts of life.

1. Humour : laugh. ALOT. At funny things but also yourself.  Laughing at yourself, your mistakes, your comical errors will lessen the load.  Life can be funny,make it so.

2.  Tell your story: The only thing my grandpa didn’t speak of often was his war years.  Otherwise the man told stories and shared memories, always! Those stories and memories gave me a huge appreciation for years passed, what hard times really mean, and that everyone has a story to share, everyone has been through tragedies, and we are not here to lessen them, judge or criticize.
We all have a voice, use it and use it wisely.

3.   Friendliness/kindness :One of my fondest memories is morning coffee at the local coffee shop every morning to enjoy a hot chocolate with the farmers and the wives, and the trips tucked in the back seat to the nearest city for Sunday trips during my visits.  Both entailed meeting friends and strangers alike. And strangers become friends. Smile at people, start a conversation, it may just be the best thing you’ve done in a while. I never heard the man dismiss someone or be rude.  He taught me to be kind, to everyone until proven otherwise, then still be kind.

4. Commitment.  This is from both grandpa and grandma.  Don’t just walk away from a marriage, home, friendship because this moment is tough.  When you make a commitment, follow through. My grandpa returned from war, married grandma and brought baggage like most of us would turn away from.  She stood by him, loved him and truly was his better half.  He was the oldest home dialysis patient in Canada.  Three times a day those two would sit down for the treatment, grandma administrating, grandpa talking.  They taught me perseverance and strength, that even during the bad there can be wonderful.  All because of a commitment they took seriously.

5. Hard work: the man worked hard. I often sat in his workshop while he tinkered.  The smell of sawdust still tears me up.  Sure by this time he was retired, but his hands were never idle.  He taught me to take pride in my work and in myself.  He taught me I was good enough, smart enough and determined enough to do whatever I wanted to do. The quiet moments we shared puttering were some of the best and carried the biggest lessons of all.  He believed in me, trusted me and showed me that giving up was never an option.

6. Take time for yourself : grandpa loved his naps, his cartoons and his wood shop.  I believe that those moments were his and his alone.  Time to think, ponder, reflect. He genuinely liked his own company. I watched and learned that no matter what is going on, it is perfectly acceptable to take that myself moment.  To say no, to rest when you need and to enjoy your own company, so you can be the best you. Heck if you don’t like yourself it’s kind of hard for others to!

7. Be you : my grandpa taught me that being me was enough.  Even if it took me a while to get it.  He always always accepted not only me for me, but others as well just the way we were.  He didn’t care what colour you were, what size you wore, how many degrees you held, or how much money you had.  He only cared if you were decent and kind. And when you messed that up, he still liked ya! He loved me enough to prove to me that I was loved, unconditionally, for always.

Yes lessons learned from grandpa are some of life’s best lessons.

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