Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Being Happy

I feel sorry for millenials. All true forms of art seem to be dying off with our childhood heroes. And we're not kidding anyone, we came way before the millenials. Bowie, Prince, Michael Jackson *oh yah i totally went there* everyone who has ever written a book worth reading? Dead. Except Margaret Atwood and I have some suspicions that she's actually dead pretending to be alive, I met her (she's dead).  I was looking at books at a book store the other day. They had roughly drawn stick pictures in them. I'm like this make the New York Times? *she shakes her head* and remembers she has overdue library books.

I'm as much to blame as anyone else. Everyone is like, you're a writer? Yes. You have a book? Yes. Is it hidden in some secret file on my computer that I intent to leave a letter with the instructions on how to find it with Jay for when I die? Yes.

When I get upset, I don't say, I'm feeling conflicted. I need to take some time to figure out the most positive course of action. One that will enable me and those I care for to successfully navigate this situation and ensure the best possible outcome.

I send my best a friend a text that says "FML". While I truly love the eff word deeply, I'm not using my better words anymore.

You know what's a great word? Melancholy. 

On that note, I tolerate my MBA, with only one course left after this one, I don't care anymore. I'm struggling to figure out why I cared in the first place. All that time and money. Will those three little letters after my name change anything? NO. Life doesn't care if you are smarter than someone else. The jdubs discourage education which is why I went ALL THE WAY. What I learned was I was always this smart and now I've spent so much money just to prove it to other people, who let's be honest, don't give a fuck.

Charisma, courage, passion, those are what you should do an MBA in. I'm so bored with myself, I don't know how other people even put up with me. Like let me help you with your marketing strategy, throw me a math problem I can't solve or a business I can't turn around by working your assets and assessing your balance sheets. Boring.

Today, I am definitely supposed to be writing a paper. Instead? I lure my boyfriend/manfriend/lifepartner/husband whatever you want to call him to kensignton market so I can buy sage to burn all the negative energy out of our place and get new earrings. I really just wanted to go to Blackbird Baking and Courage my Love and all the places that stole all the best names.

Then we got Vietnamese food and we're running late. So I'm like just drop me off at the market (the other market) cause Ken would would be very upset if I didn't show on a Saturday. Dudes there alone. I'm like where's Robin? She couldn't work. I've offered 17 million times to work for free on the weekends. I jump behind the cash and start ringing people in and packaging flowers. Sweep the floors and take out the garbage. Yes, I love my marketing job. Yes, I'm somewhat important. You cannot however compete for working in a flower shop for minimum wage. I was so lucky I got to do that. Coming home and your whole place smells like beauty and hope.

Some guy was saying shit about our green roses which are actually my favorite and I wanted to punch him. That's your passion, charisma and courage. But the customer is always right. I have an MBA bud. These green ish roses are amazing and by the way, I know your girlfriend and in her culture those white ones mean death and she believes it. Have fun with buying those. :)

Life is more fun when it's fun. Bur damn tomorrow I gotta stop breathing in the flowers and write that paper. Finish line is in sight. Hey, I still remember how to use my words so I'm betting on that to get me through to the other side. My massage therapist is like why do you hate yourself so much? Your body doesn't like you. You'll probably come in here next time saying you're doing your PhD. NO EFFING WAY. Thanks for looking out for me though Craig. :)

PS. I get over this, I might do my PhD, (I'm so so so sorry Jay) cause I've always thought I'd be a great therapist. But definitely a long enough break is planned where I will be the best partner and dog mom and make up for this MBA mess. 

Sullivan out.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Say Something

"Say something. I'm giving up on you."

Well here we are. This past year, after almost dying, leaving my job, dating and breaking up with someone I have loved for years, being unemployed for months, I'm once again a functioning member of society. Not someone who hangs out in yoga pants all day alone with her dog doing little projects for whoever needs to hire someone who can write for them or do their taxes. 

I applied for A LOT of jobs. I interviewed for a lot of jobs. With the reasons I had that told me I needed a change, I was picky. It got crazy by the end. I had 13 interviews in two weeks. They were all pretty aggressive in wanting me to make a decision. I had to decide what the hell I was doing with my life. I'm 40 now after all. Halfway through my life, if I'm lucky. 

I can't say enough good things about my almost 7 years at KPMG. I worked with great people. I had mentors who helped me grow. I made a couple of life long friends. When I left, I said from the beginning I wanted to work non-profit. It seems like you can take the girl out of the JWs but you can't take the JW out of the girl. I'd rather help people than make lots of money. I am doing my MBA so hopefully I'll have some great options in the future. 

Still, it was hard to decide. Some companies seemed so much more exciting. My best friend was here when I was in the middle of all that craziness (cause he's always here when I need him) and he was like, "Margaux, you know what you want to do. Do it." I pretty much played Russian roulette with my professional life and I think I dodged a couple of bullets. 

It was the right decision. I'm 9 days straight in and I'm sure of that. I'm exhausted, but sure. There is one drawback to my almost perfect new job. The company next to us - there's a JW who works there. We used to be friends. I'm non-profit now. All the offices on my floor share a bathroom. So I run into her. She shuns me. I gotta say, I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. 

They make a big show out of it. Look straight at you - look appalled - look away with their head down. Walk faster past you. As happy and grounded as I feel, it still shakes me. It's still makes me feel bad about myself. It still makes it harder for me to walk tall and be proud of my decisions in life. Even though I am. 

What do they think is going to happen if they look at me? That I'll suck them over to Satan's side by making eye contact? Maybe I'll just have to go to the bathroom at Starbucks across the street now. Or find a way to deal with it. 

We were friends for years, but I can't for the life of me remember her name. It got me thinking. It will be 8 years in June since I was disfellowshipped. I'm starting to forget a lot of things. I'm forgetting my JW family. I see my mom and sister in pictures in my head. Not in video. It's snapshots, not a movie. Worst part? They will never say something. They just disappear, shun. It's okay, Jehovah told them to do it.

I'm at about 20% of my life that's post Jehovah Witness. It's going to take me longer to fix myself. But my therapist thinks I've come a long way. :)

I still wish they could say something though. Like, maybe...goodbye? Something that would give me the closure I still crave. Now that I work in an organization that deals with palliative care, I understand how important the "goodbye" is to the family members and close friends. 

It's important to me. I didn't get that opportunity. My mother has said a lot. Mostly about how I'm a sinner, how I'm going to die at Armageddon and how much I've hurt her by deciding to live a life different from the one she choose for all of us. But it's never the goodbye, the closure. 

So, I officially give up. She called Grandma when I was there at Christmas. I answered the phone. She knew I almost died and she couldn't even say "Are you okay now?". My mother. Couldn't ask if I was okay. She couldn't hang up on me fast enough. To be fair, Jehovah probably wouldn't like that. Jehovah doesn't seem like a very loving or accepting God to me. I'll go with no God and put my faith in the Universe to work things out. The Universe makes me nervous, but she always comes through in the end. 

This is me, phase 2. It's not the end. I've been gifted with a new beginning. I promise to make the most of it. 

Sullivan out. 

Where the Light Is

"Gravity has taken better men than me. Just keep me where the light is." - John Mayer

One of my friends has been going through a hard time. I tried my best to help. A lot of us did. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. He decided to take his own life.

I got the phone call at work. My first reaction was NO. It can't be true. My second reaction was just to start crying. Which I did all night, this morning and that's not over yet.

The whole reason I had decided to be so open on this blog was to raise awareness. Most of my life has been completely embarrassing. And putting it out there definitely does not benefit me in any way. But if I could help anyone - ex-JW, someone living with mental health issues - that's what I wanted to do.

Bell does a "Let's Talk" day every year to raise awareness for mental health issues. This is not a one day a year issue. It's great that they do that. And it's great that a lot of you out there support the charities that support these people. My people.

If you really want to help though, it takes more than writing a check. Or showing up at a fundraiser. It takes all of us to educate ourselves, to be alert to the warning signs, to make those one on one connections with the ones who suffer. Listen, be there for them, help them get the help they need.

This old school mentality has got to go and make room for awareness and acceptance. Some of the comments I've received in the past day just reinforced that for me. "He was so selfish." "Was he on drugs?"

I realize that drug and alcohol abuse can be factors in the equation sometimes, but not always. Sometimes people just get dealt a bad hand in life and they get very sad.

As far as the selfish comments go, yes, maybe it is selfish, but try looking at it from the other perspective. I've been through it. I've tried to kill myself. I wasn't trying to hurt anyone. I didn't send out angry messages or write a letter blaming anyone. Sometimes, we are pushed beyond our capacity for pain. When that happens, we can end up in a place where we never wanted to go. A dark place. Where there's no light at the end of the tunnel. Where the hurt is so bad, all we want is for it to stop. Where as much as we genuinely love the people in our life, we don't care anymore that they will cry tomorrow. It just needs to be over. For us.

I've been so lucky. The second time I became suicidal, I didn't just take four bottles of pills and go to bed. I asked for help and I had a network that rallied around me. A workplace that supported me. Aunts and Uncles to go home to, who took care of me until I was no longer a threat to myself. A $200/hour therapist who first cut his fees in half and then just treated me for free.

Not everyone is that lucky. Although my friend had loving friends, he obviously didn't have the support he needed. Over the past couple of weeks, he kept telling me how much he valued our friendship. He wasn't angry, he was just sad. He kept telling me how much he looked up to me, how strong he thought I was for getting through my challenges in life. How proud he was of me.

I've been where he was and I still misread the signs. I thought he was saying those things because I was inspiring him to get better. Now, I think it was because he didn't feel like he would ever get there.

All I'm asking of all of you out there is please, please be alert. 1 in 4 Canadians have suffered or are suffering from depression. Watch for the signs. Be patient and kind. Pick up the phone when they call even if you're rolling your eyes and thinking you don't want to listen to this story again. You just might save a life.

He called me on Wednesday. I was volunteering at a charity event all day. I didn't pick up, I thought, I'll just call him back later. Later was too late.

We all struggle with the back and forth between the light and the darkness. When you're in the light, shine it on others. That way, when you're in the dark, there will be someone around to show you the way back out.

Sullivan out.

Forever 27

I missed my birthday blog. I haven't been feeling well. I had a great birthday weekend though. Lots of dog park time. Which is perfect.

My friends and family are all trained. I turn 27 every year on February 27th. So all my cards say Happy 27th! This year though, I feel too damn young to feel this old.

I've laboured over this blog. I've written it, deleted it and re-written it so many times in my head. Us writers are a strange breed who walk around talking to ourselves and writing in notebooks. It's just a birthday, I know. And age is just a number. But I'm always honest with y'all so...this was my last birthday in my 30s. But 40 is the new 30 right? I'm still pretty. :)

And I finally feel like I know who I am, what I want out of life and what I don't want. I couldn't get all my friends together last Saturday night so I celebrated for a week. Dalyse took me to a Blue Rodeo concert. Lindsay took me shopping. Robin took me to the dog park. Jay and Spencer sang Happy Birthday while I blew out the candles on my cake.

I have the most amazing friends. I'm happy with my job. I still feel like I'm playing catch-up with life, after all those years I spent slaving for the JWs. But the Universe has been kind to me.

I've been married to a great, handsome guy. I've been madly in love after that. I've lost so many people that I love so much, but I've found something that I think will ground me for the second half of my life. I love myself. I've been volunteering more lately and I feel like perhaps I'm actually making a difference again. Although the corporate life can be taxing, I'm in a position where I've made so many relationships, I can leverage their support to help these causes that I care about.

I feel like I've lived 3 different lives so far. This one is the scariest. But it's also my favorite. I've learned a lot living on the outside of my past life. I've learned how to trust again, how to love again. How to start over from absolutely nothing - no home, no money, no friends - and accept the help that I used to be too proud to take.

As a Jehovah's Witness being part of "the world" was the worst thing. I thought I might save the world when I was one of them.  In the end though, the world saved me. And now I'm strong enough to start trying to do that again. I'm a bit weathered from the fight but that's okay.

I know now that we shouldn't judge others. That none of us are better than anyone else. That we need to erase stigmas. That mental health issues are real. That we are all fighting a hard battle, so let's just be kind. I've come a long way from where I began. The journey continues...

Sullivan out.

Do I wanna know?

It's been awhile. I'm finally starting to find my voice again. You know what's worse than losing your family? Losing them twice. Unfortunately I am not allowed to be who I am and keep the family too. 

I actually thought I could fight this battle against the Jehovah's Witnesses and win. I can't. But that doesn't mean I won't stop fighting. I'm happy they are going down in this child abuse scandal. Not happy that anything bad ever happened to any children, just happy other people are finding their voice, speaking out and telling the truth. We've all been silent for too long. 

I'm extremely lucky that most of the family doesn't buy into that ideal and they support me. It's a little bit crazy that two people can influence your entire perception of life. Make you want to give up. 

I lost the opportunity to be with the love of my life so I could try to get back to them. I guess I loved my mother and sister more than him. In all fairness, he hasn't come back in 5 years so I guess it's time to move on. From all of them. 

At the end of the day, those people who won't love us? For each of them, there are so many others who will. It's easy to fixate on the rejection. Moving on doesn't mean we won't always love them. I'm stubborn that way and I'm sure a lot of us are. But I have people in my life who will always be there, always support me and always care. That's more than anyone could wish for. 

My therapist asked me if I regretted my decision to try to get reinstated with the JWs, losing my love in the process. Looking back, I would say yes. But if I hadn't tried to do that, it may have been some dark cloud that hung out over my head for the rest of my life. Wondering what could have been. 

Do I want to know the outcome of any big decisions I make in life? Yes and no. Part of the journey is making mistakes, bouncing back and choosing your own adventure. So far, despite the setbacks I'd say life is pretty exciting. 

I'm writing again so stay tuned for tomorrow's post about my fabulous cousin who just moved to TO. 

Sullivan out. 

Love in a Hopeless Place

"I saw you screaming but no one can hear. You almost feel ashamed that someone could be that important, that without them you feel like nothing. No one will ever understand how much it hurts. You feel hopeless, like nothing can save you. And when it's over and it's gone you almost wish you could have all that bad stuff back, so that you could have the good." - Rihanna

My ex-boyfriend, Steve, probably was one of the only guys on here to have a real name. No "Vienna", " The American", "Irish". He was just Steve. He had a lot of opinions on everything. He told me that I could do better with this blog. He said: "you could just tell the truth". 

The truth I want to tell myself is always to put the positive spin on everything. It actually helps with someone who suffers from depression. Writing it down, saying everything is actually okay, makes you feel better. 

This week though, things haven't been better and I'll tell the truth. I tried to check myself into the hospital yesterday because I feel like I'm right back where I was a few years ago. That sucks, right? All that progress, all that healing, all that work. You will never win though with the Jehovah's Witnesses. They will come out of the shadows and sucker punch you when you are least expecting it. Your mom and sister will never choose you over them. And you will go through the same little hell you were in years ago anytime they cut you off again. 

Do I know I have an army of other people behind me? Yes. Does it make their actions hurt less? No. 

Spencer came to the hospital with me. 

The doctors: Does she sleep?

Spencer: No, she doesn't. 

They decided not to keep me and sent me home with a paper on feeling sad and some 1-800 numbers to call if I needed help. 

At least this time though I tried to do something. Last time I took three bottles of pills and went to bed, hoping not to wake up. 

I think the hardest part about this time is for the last five years, I held out hope that I could leave the Witnesses and still get my family back. I worked at it, I was honest with them - about this blog, about the article I did for that magazine. And everything seemed to be fine. 

Now I know I can't go back. I can't risk my career, my friendships, my life, for people who will never love me for who I am. I am NOT a Jehovah's Witness. 

Sullivan out. 

Under Pressure

Mondays are always the worst for me (click me). Getting up, facing another work week. At least on the weekends I can hide in bed whenever I feel like it. Monday - Friday though, my company owns me.

I always get up really, really early on Monday, so I can spend as much time as I like sitting in my big chair by the window, or doing yoga poses while chanting positive messages to myself like: "you are not your job", "you're good at what you do", "you work hard", "if this goes away it's not the end of the world", or, "we are not curing cancer." It was easier when I had a cat to pet while doing that.

Today though, it actually worked. Guess who didn't even have a panic attack at work? This girl. It's actually a much more productive day when you don't spend your lunch hour in the bathroom with your head between your knees gasping for breath and trying to calm down.

I'm not blaming the work. My anxiety issues go much, much deeper than that. But it is a stressful environment that needs to be approached with caution. My bestie works in Diversity and she's around the corner from me at the office. She asked if I'd be comfortable sharing my story for an upcoming campaign of some sort they're having on mental health issues. Apparently tons of Partners have shared personal stories on depression and anxiety. And y'all know I'm the biggest advocate of sharing your story if it can help someone else. I out myself all the time on this blog that's apparently hit over 24,000 page reads.

At the office though, I'm not sure where the boundaries are. I put on a really good front. Yah, some of them know about this blog and read me. When they go to my manager with their concerns about how I'm doing because of something they read, I really regret telling them about it in the first place. To me work and the rest of my life are completely unrelated.

I remember once, during a performance review, Stuart (Margaux hearts Stuart) in an attempt no doubt to be helpful, told me that I shouldn't come across as so happy. He said as a blonde, it made me look hmmmm....not so smart.

I had the one and only complete meltdown I've had at work. I started crying in his office. He had no idea how hard it was to pretend I was happy at that point in my life. Every day. Smiling and making jokes when I had actually just got out of the psych ward for trying to off myself. It was a lot of effort.

At the end of the day, we all have pressure to manage and I'm totally grateful for my job. It's a wonderful opportunity. And if nothing else works, David Bowie and Queen can sympathize.

Sullivan out.

Triple Threat!

Gawd, I love Saturdays.

Last weekend was the worst weekend ever. The Triple Threat. The good thing about when bad things come in threes is that then you're absolutely, positively in the clear for awhile. The storm is over and now everything is calm. It's a beautiful, gorgeous fall day in Toronto. It almost doesn't matter that it's November 16th and I still don't have heat in my apartment. (Law suit pending...)

I was talking to my brother about this and I really think that everything bad that happens to us in life is a test, to see how we will react, what choices will we make, will we give up? Sometimes, I won't lie, you want to just throw back your head and scream at the gods that be and ask them why they are such assholes when you are just trying to be a good person.

Buddhists believe that nothing is permanent and we need to detach from our suffering. I'm a newbie at it, but I've been reading Jack Kornfield when I can't sleep and practicing. I have a panic attack and I just think...I'm not my body. I'm not my job. I'm not this date I'm about to go on. Because we are all part of something much bigger than that.

It helps to put on something that makes you want to dance in the living room. So I have a Saturday morning song for you. Here ya go. 

Listen to this and then enjoy your morning run, yoga, coffee, walk in the park, whatever you're up to. Every day is a gift, every day we lose a little more time. Let's *shine* while we're here, for what it's worth. :)

Lest we forget...

I keep vacillating on this one.  Do I write one more blog about how depressed I am that my Cat died. Tell y'all how hard it was not to cry at my desk today at work? Or do I do a fucking inspirational it's Remembrance Day, we should be grateful for what we have, what our grandparents fought for speech. I never met one of my grandfathers, but he fought in the war and I'm sure he was awesome, just like my Dad. 

Hmm. I am grateful for what I have. Except for the dead cat and the new stalker. (Stalker, I don't blame you for being in love with me, I'm pretty awesome. But the fact that you somehow got my cell phone number and called me the other night really makes me very nervous. Please don't do that again.)

The Cat wasn't just another friend that I lost, she was the last real link I had to that past life. She was with me when I found Travis, married him, divorced him. She was with me through those absolutely terrible years. 

Living in the past will never get us anywhere we really want to go in life. And if life hasn't killed me yet, then it really should be worried because there's nothing left to take away from me at this point. I'm like Liam Neeson is any of his movies. Scary. I'm going to leave it to the true artist here to say what I really want to say, but seriously: You're gonna hear me roar. 

Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness

Ok perhaps I was being a bit dramatic with that title. But I honestly can't remember the last time I've been this sad. What does one do on a Saturday night after they kill their Cat?

I was up most of Friday night with her so I took a nap. I would say after the events of this morning, I could justify splurging and ordering in instead of cooking. But I don't feel like eating. I don't feel like going out but I don't feel like staying in either, the apartment is way too lonely now. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.