The Unwanted Visitor

I can't make any promises about not writing about this again a few times before June. It's my 10 year out of the cult into the real world anniversary coming up. I feel really good these days. My friends say I look great again, not the way I used to, all skinny and sick. I can honestly say I'm happy.

I feel like Margaux 2.0, just ten years older and a bit more weathered. That doesn't mean however that I won't have relapses. I've been through a lot of change this past year. I feel it's helping me grow, but people worry about me when I feel down. My therapist says that once you've been through a major depression it's prone to re-visit.

Sometimes something triggers it, sometimes it's just being tired, sad or frustrated. Sometimes it's because I really miss someone I've lost. I've learned coping skills on how to move ahead when that happens, but that doesn't mean it will stop it from happening once in awhile.

The reason I speak out about it is I feel I'm helping people by breaking the stigma. We could tuck it away in the closet and pretend we're fine all the time but I think that's what makes people crazy. Now my go-to is: Let it out. Cry. Spend a whole day wallowing if you need to. Take a nap. Watch something fun on Netflix. Then wipe your eyes and get up tomorrow knowing it's a new day with no mistakes in it yet. Depression Lies. Tell your unwanted visitor his time is up and he has to leave now.

I've always been a tiny (huge) bit dramatic and that's what us writers and artists are, aren't we? I don't think I'm that dramatic anymore because I feel safe and secure, but I still have those days when I need to focus on self-care. We were going out the other night to watch the Raptors play. On the way there Jay was like "Who's my crazy girl? You are. But you're MY crazy girl". He's right. I can be crazy. I'll go out for a walk and come home with a puppy or a kitten or someone who needs to crash on our couch indefinitely.

At the end of the day, it's refreshing to have someone who loves me not because were in the same cult or they're trying to control what I do, but because they think I deserve to be loved. Who sits with me when I cry sometimes. Who holds my hand through anything and everything and always says "we got this". Who helps me lock the door when my unwanted visitor comes calling. Who shows me I'm so much more than just someone who was raised in a cult, abandoned by most family and friends, who deals with depression every now and then.

This is real love and I know it doesn't happen every day. Whatever you're going through, there are people are out there who will love you regardless. Find your people. You have the power, you just have to believe in that for yourself. The sun is shining again and ps. get a dog :)

If you can't love yourself how the hell are you ever going to love someone else? Can I get an Amen? *RuPaul

Sullivan out.

How to Save a Life

It's actually pretty simple: 

1) Show up
2) Don't be an asshole

With Mental Health Week coming up I think there are a few things we all should know. 

- Half of the people dealing with mental health issues will never tell anyone about it. 
- One in four people in Canada will go through this at some point in their lives. 
- Depression is a real disease. Those of you who think you can just "be happy" are wrong.

From my experience, it's complicated. I've tried everything from therapy (I have two therapists) to meditation, to mindfulness training, to medication, to psychics. I've read a million books, dabbled in Buddhism, bought a mala that's supposed to be healing, done yoga more times than I can count. 

It's a lot of work on top of real life and real work. Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong. Sometimes I blame my upbringing. Sometimes I try to forgive myself for being not as strong as I want to be. 

Those of us who are suffering and trying to get better though, try to understand us. Just because I've been struggling lately has absolutely no link to self-pity or feeling ungrateful. Each and every turn my life takes, there's someone there who shows up. Friends, ex-boyfriends, family. I love and appreciate those people more than I can express in words. 

I have an aunt and uncle who would be the most perfectly imperfect set of parents. And I think that's the beauty in unconditional love. Now that we're all adults we know what each of us have been through. And I feel accepted and loved and I know I look up to them for getting through what they've been through. We do the best with what we have, but without the proofs of love, how we would know that we're actually loved? Love is an action. 

If someone you loved had cancer, you'd show up at the hospital, you'd bring them flowers. You might not understand depression and anxiety, but you can try. :)

And that's how you save people's lives. Suicide is the second most common cause of death amoung young people in Canada. Stop the stigma. Start talking.