Half of my Heart

I'm an empath. One of my girlfriends always says she owes me thousands of dollars in therapy. Which is probably thanks to the thousands of dollars I've spent in therapy. For Christmas I got three books on being an empath and how to balance it.

I'm not gonna lie to y'all it's a fine line to walk. Caring enough to help but not caring too much that it brings you down with the shipwreck. It's something we didn't think we'd see in out lifetime so thank gawd for the the health care system and all essential workers who keep our country going.

I just don't do things the way a normal person does. I laugh when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad. I can't be half hearted. This epidemic would make anyone either very upset or pretend it's not happening at all. Now children are dying. Not just older people. Don't even get me started on how Trump is trying to kill America. To keep the money rolling in. His own people keep getting sick and dying. Protests in the streets, people killing each other for no reason. History is going back in time, not forward and if you're smart enough you know exactly who I'm talking about.

We're dying here too, but more slowly than a country run by some ego maniac. We're taking it slow. Doing what we can.

I know this is killing the economy. I know people are lining up overnight at food banks. I know as long as we are doing okay, that if I was still JW I would probably be so happy that all the things they told us were finally coming true and paradise was coming. That it's the end of the world as we know it. But that's a bunch of selfish people thinking only about them, not the rest of the world.

Instead, I live with a guy, a dog and a cat. I have no predisposed ideas about getting into paradise at this point. I have a bad immune system so he won't let me leave the house without an M3 N-95 mask. I'm allergic to all fabrics that are synthetic so my allergies kicked in and now I've been walking around with a black eye for 5 or 6 days cause I'm allergic to those masks. Imagine how much fun my Zoom meetings at work have been with a black eye.

Ben is the only one allowed to come over and he does, every day. We have our little quarantine family. Sometimes Lindsay and Declan pop by and we say hi, them on the sidewalk, me out the window. My Taurus doesn't really understand the Pisces. That even a fish can die underwater for so long.

COVID doesn't seem to be going away. Maybe in times like these we should look outside ourselves and find ways to help others. The non profit I work for does not receive government funding or money from the United Way. They rely solely on donations. Our fundraising events for the spring/summer? Not gonna happen.

I know we're all struggling financially, but if you're one of those who aren't, if you're happy and comfortable in life, please think about helping others who need support now more than ever before. Eating disorders are the #2 cause of death out of all mental health issues.

www.sheenasplace.org/donate

We appreciate any support that helps us help other. But don't do anything unless your whole heart is in it. Half of a heart is not going to get us out of this mess, despite the best intentions.

Sullivan out.

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. 

A Few Good Men

Y'all know that I love my girls. Thankfully, I decided to leave the JWs and I was able to save a couple of those life long friendships that I wouldn't have anymore if I hadn't been kicked out too. I have a few girls here in Toronto that are like sisters to me. I can count on them being there when I need them. My aunts and Grandma are amazing.

But this post is about the boys. In no particular order: my uncle, my dad, my boss, my therapist, my roomate and my ex-boyfriend.

When I was home this summer, I talked to my uncle about how I had a hard time finding real meaning in life without my religious beliefs. He told me he found meaning in helping his family. If that's the case, I've provided him with enough meaning to get through a long time out from here. He has been my rock in a storm. He's not all that touchy-feely but he gave me a lot of hugs and he's taken really good care of me.

My dad and I have had our ups and downs like any crazy, messed up family would. But we always love each other and find our way back to being us. I think I'm the most like him out of my siblings and even though I think he tried to kill me this past summer by taking me on a huge hike through woods and lakes and sand dunes on the hottest day of the year without any water - it's still one of my favorite days I had this past year.

My boss/mentor/friend has believed in me so many times this past year when I didn't believe in myself. It's been almost a year since the incident with my sister's wedding. I haven't been on my game. I started a new job and to be honest, I haven't been great at it. Which is strange for me, I'm used to being good at things.

I wish y'all had known me as a JW (I also wish you didn't, because I probably would have annoyingly tried to convert you) but I was on top of things. I was the perfect little elders wife in a Vietnamese congregation. I was too young to be married and too young to take care of so many other people. I burnt out. And then my sister kicked me out of her wedding. And then Donia died. My boss sees past the circumstances and thinks I'm smart and I have potential. Every time he tells me that, I believe it a little more.

My therapist is not conventional. That's why I like him. He probably knows me better than anyone else. He'll do our sessions by phone if I can't leave the house. The second time I became suicidal, he just gave me a hug and said he'd miss me and let me go home. He didn't call anyone (which I know is not what he's supposed to do). It made me feel like he trusted me to make the right choice this time and I was in charge of my own life. He's offered to take me to the hospital after I tried to check myself in and they didn't think I seemed "sad enough" to get help. He's treated me for free when I ran out of money even though he charges $200 an hour. He cut his rates in half this year when I went back.

My roomate and my ex-boyfriend: spoiler alert - they hate each other. They put up with each other though, because they both love me. Both of them have been there to pick me up at the hospital after all of the surgeries I've had this past year. They both make sure I eat, hold my hand when I'm sad, sent me care packages when I was out east in the summer. They walk my dog.

It's true that men sometimes have a harder time getting in touch with and dealing with feelings. My struggle with depression and anxiety hasn't been easy. I've been diagnosed with PTSD and Religious Trauma Syndrome. These guys have all stepped out of their comfort zones to try to understand and be supportive.

Everyone knows I'm terrible at dating. Guys like me but they never stick around. I'm not sure I really need a life partner though. It's nice to be with someone. Maybe though, I'm too complicated to rely on just one guy. With the crew I have behind me now, I've managed to weather the worst of storms. I feel strong and motivated and happy. And I have a dog. :)

So I want to say thank you to all the awesome men in my life. And to their women who share them with me. I have Max for the next 10-12 years and he couldn't leave me if he wanted to. :)

Happy Holidays from us.

Sullivan out.

Hasn't Hit Me Yet

I'll be the first to admit I haven't really been on my game lately. I'm so happy to be back at work but after being off/sick for so long, it's really hard to get your stamina back. I am trying, for sure, but the other day I came home for lunch and thought I'd just lie down for a few minutes. I woke up half an hour later in a panic and had to go back to work hungry. The people there though are great, there's lots of leftover Halloween candy and those things make everything worth it. :)

Speaking of Halloween, can you guess who I was?

Everyone said "bar wench" and asked me to make them drinks. Not correct. Then there was the incident of me dropping my phone (again) and having to spend all day Saturday trying to get it fixed. It was expensive. I think I might need to get a land line for emergencies. 

The real story here though is that today was awesome. It's possible I've completely embarrassed myself twice now with my semi-celebrity crush, but I think he thinks I'm adorable and if I hadn't been so lazy this morning and put my hair in a ponytail before work I would probably be married by now to Jim Cuddy. 

I love Blue Rodeo. They're my favorite (sorry U2, you guys are a very close second). My sister and I discovered them together at an all day, multi-musical group concert when we were new to Toronto. I still have a picture of us somewhere sitting on a blanket on the grass. And that's usually how I see them now. They always play in August. I always sit on the grass and buy the tshirt. They always do a show in February and I figure that's my birthday month so I can justify buying some tickets and guilting some friend who doesn't really love them into going with me. 

Their best concert I saw was a secret one they performed at a little dive bar in Toronto. And as close as I got to them that night, I'd still never met them. So many of their songs resonate with me, but having two lead singers mixes it up. Usually my favorite songs are Greg's. (Don't tell Jim. Greg just has a bit more edge. Hasn't Hit Me Yet is the best song ever.) But I've always had a crush on Cuddy. He kinda looks like my dad. And he's the one who sings "Try". 

I ran into him once in Kensignton Market. It was one of those split seconds where you recognize someone as they are walking past you. I turned around and said "Jim Cuddy!" he looked back and I couldn't think of the right thing to say to this man whose songs I'd listened to a thousand times.  So I just said " I love you". He got that "she's a crazy stalker" look in his eye, laughed and kept walking. I was like, damn. 

This morning, I was running late. So for maybe the third time ever in the 4.5 years I've been at this job, I put my hair in a ponytail, grabbed an umbrella and ran out of my apartment and right into my crush. Apparently (according to Spencer) I was the biggest geek ever. If I was hoping to redeem myself from our awkward first run-in, that didn't happen. 

I said the exact same thing I said the first time: "Jim Cuddy". He had a guitar and some luggage with him. I could have asked him to play "Try" and how fun would it have been if he opened his guitar case and started playing on the sidewalk and the Bay Streeters walking by would throw some change into it?

But I was dedicated to redeeming myself this time. So no, I did not tell him that I love him. (Sidepoint: I really don't care about dating right now, but I do love you Jim. I do.) Instead, I was just an overly talkative mess. It would appear that I told him not once, not twice but four times that I go see every show they do in the city. And that I accidentally told him I loved him in Kensignton Market once. And lots of stuff about how great the band is and how much I love their music. Then I asked if we could take a picture. And look at us. We're besties now. :) He really is the loveliest guy and if you want to hit them up at Massey Hall in February, call me. 

Sullivan out. 

The Beloved

Well, me and being sick had a good run but like with everything and everyone else, eventually I had to break this relationship off. The tide has finally shifted and I'm back to work full time now. 

It was weird in the beginning. After being through so much and getting so down and low, I was a different person coming back to the office. I lost 25 lbs and that great place that I thought I was at just before I left, where I felt so hopeful that I would become successful at what I wanted to be. No, I just lost that too.

I realized something though. When I'm at work, I want to give it my best. I do not however want that to define me. I am so appreciative of where I am with work and the people I get to see 5 days a week, but there has to be more to life than just that. My family, my friends, my volunteer work. I attach a huge significance to all of those aspects of life as well.  

My boss is a Rockstar. Most people probably couldn't keep up with him even if he was in a coma. He's driven and oh-so-smart. 

He's always looking for ways for our team to be more productive, so he had all of us to do a personality test before I left. Everyone else killed it. Their dominant traits were Power, Prestige, Innovation. They got cool names like "The Change Agent", "The Trendsetter", "The Mastermind", "The Architect". I got "The Beloved". Apparently my dominant traits are being passionate, loyal and sincere. I'm genuine, no hidden agenda. Empathetic. Comforting. Welcoming, accepting, NURTURING. Expressive. Engaging. I could go on but I won't. You get the idea. 

I will never be the boss. I sighed as I printed it off and added it to his pile of profiles on all the better people than me that we have on our team.

By that I mean better at work. I'm not sure how most of them are in their real lives, they all seem pretty great. I'll tell you a secret though, before I took the test, when I was looking over all of the possible outcomes for who I was, as much as I'd love to be a super star, I just wanted to be "The Beloved". That's all I've ever wanted. And I guess I'm okay with it. 

Sullivan out.  

PS. It's Scorpion season. Happy Birthday to all my lovely Scorpios out there. Most of y'all have really hurt my feelings at some point...but I'm stubborn love all the way. Love you!

Baby Steps

I had a long week at work. I was so exhausted come the weekend that once again I didn't accomplish everything I was hoping to. Some weeks, I just need to calm down and accept that I'm only human after all and trying to be more than that gives me panic attacks and will lead me to an early grave. 

It's possible y'all are tired of hearing me prepare for this Mental Health week speech thing, but one of our Partners called me on Friday afternoon, he's been struggling with his speech too. So I guess we're in the same boat. Telling terrible, personal stories, hoping it will have an impact on someone. 

I've realized in preparing for it though, I am very, very grateful for my job. Yes, I believe in work/life balance and our priorities should be the people in our lives, not the work we're doing. But we can't underestimate how much head space our jobs take up - even just by virtue of the fact that we spend so much of our time there. 

I have been extremely lucky to land where I am, meet the people I've met and have the opportunities I currently have. My team bought me a big bouquet of flowers on Friday afternoon and I honestly feel the love. 

The journey I've been on professionally though, has been one consisting of millions of little baby steps. When I was JW, I worked part-time and spent 100 hours a month doing volunteer work for them - for years. Arriving here, I felt like I was so far behind other people my age, I would never catch up. But I'm getting closer and closer to where I want to be. 

I saw my mother today, that relationship has been consisting of baby steps as well. Learning how not to push each other's buttons, how to peacefully co-exist with me as a non-JW has been a journey. 

I took her out to get our nails done and she tried to be discreet while she slipped a JW magazine into my favorite Buddhist book. I appreciate the sentiment behind it. I would never expect her to stop trying to win me back over to them. 

But you can count on this: there are two instances in my life where I will ever, ever again step into a Kingdom Hall: if I happen to be invited to my sisters wedding and my mother's funeral. Other than that, we've had a bad breakup and I'm not interested in revisiting it. 

Interestingly, the magazine she left me was entitled: "Why Go On: Three Reasons to Keep Living". Reason #2 was "Because There is Help". Second paragraph was entitled "People who care" and spoke to the fact that JWs have a unique opportunity through their outreach and door-to-door work to encounter "distraught people" who may have felt desperate and considered ending their lives. 

I quote: "Following Jesus' example, Jehovah's Witnesses care about their fellowman. They care about you." I hope that two of my best friends who I turned to when I was "distraught" and suicidal, who told me "there is no help for disfellowshipped people" and asked me not to try to contact their families again, read that article. Hopefully it will help them better understand their Christian obligations. 

I feel like the past five years has been made up of million of little baby steps. I'm not sure where it all will lead yet, but I know this much: I'm on the right path. :)

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.

Keep Calm and Make a List

For all my A-type-ness, I had the perfect weekend. Dinner with a friend after work on Friday at my favorite bar in the world, home to bed early. Went to the Christmas market with a girlfriend on Saturday, picked up a couple of Christmas presents, home early, read a book, went to bed. Got up this morning and grabbed a coffee, got to work on my final assignment of the school term, took a break and went to yoga.

I love the Sunday 10 am teacher but she knows me and could tell something was wrong with me today. The panic won't leave me alone. She came over and whispered, "you keep shaking". I said I was ok. It wasn't the time or the place to explain to her my extreme problems with anxiety and how I'd had a panic attack on the way over. I made it through the class, picked up some lunch and finished my last paper. Did some work to prep for some meetings tomorrow morning. Called my grandma, did laundry, took a shower. Went back to the Christmas market in the freezing, freezing cold.

Now everything I did this weekend was super fun/important. But I almost didn't do any of it. When the anxiety takes over, I have trouble concentrating. I want to go back to bed. But that just makes me more anxious that I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing. So this weekend I made a list. Of everything I was supposed to do, what time and where. It makes me happy to be able to cross things off. I briefly thought I'd like to go to church again, but it didn't make sense to think I'd be able to fit it into the list so instead, I wrote down what I believed I could actually accomplish. If I could find the strength to get out of bed.

Surprisingly, everything is crossed off and I'm even halfway through my new favorite book, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I love the classics, huge Jane Austen fan. But zombies just make everything better. I guess part of me always believed in them since the JWs are so big on the fact that everyone is coming back from the dead. I think they just see that a little bit differently than the rest of us do. :)

Point is, life's up and downs can be scary and after what I've been through, most of the time I just want to throw in the towel and go back to bed. But if we force ourselves to cross all those important things off our lists, we might just start to feel happy again. Or at the very least, like we're really alive, and not just a zombie.