Real, Not Ideal

 I’ve been having a lot of nightmares recently. This isn’t abnormal for me. The week before my surgery, I woke up screaming at the top of my lungs. I don’t remember what the dream was, but it surely was due to the fact that I found out I was going to have surgery in a week and a half. I’ve had nightmares since I was a kid. My dad tells me a regret he has is that he didn’t write down my nightmares. They were full stories with vivid twists and turns. It’s probably why I don’t sleep well. The thing about all of my dreams is that they are hyper-realistic. My brain holds so much detail from real life and regurgitates it all back to me at night. I often wake up from dreams with a warped sense of reality. Did that happen or not? If I’m worried about something or starting a new job, I will have a nightmare about it. Anything that is the cause of an underlying sense of anxiousness in the daytime will play out through a nightmare. I feel like so much of my daytime energy is spent ...

                      I’m not very good at being gentle with myself. In the moments where I (wrongly) feel like I’ve disappointed other people, I am in my head going over every action and word I could have done and said differently. I will spin things out, making me my own villain every time.                 I’ve had myself convinced that I’m a bad friend, I’m a failure as a human being, a sorry excuse for an adult, a terrible teacher, and a daughter to be ashamed of. It is so horrible to see that written down, but I think it actually helps. I am not those things.                 Thoughts like those don’t just go away. It’s not as simple as “think positive” or “just think the opposite.” Sticky notes with mantras on my mirror aren’t going to help me. This is beyond self-c...

 A conversation you hear a lot is about surrounding yourself with people that will make you better. “You’re a mix of the five people you’re closest to” and “be the least intelligent in the room” are aims we’re told to live by. I have an amazing support system. My parents are incredible, my sister is my favourite person, Matt is my perfect balance, and my closest friends have stuck with me despite moving many times. However, some of the people that have made the biggest difference in my life are ones that I call my cheerleaders. These are the people who don’t play a massive role in your life. They’re on the outside of your inner circle, but you know they’re in your corner no matter what. Let me go through some examples. I’ve been going to my hairdresser for a long time now. She has seen me through some massive stages of my life. She knew me before Matt, she has met friends that are no longer in my life, and she has shared in my joy over starting my career. She knows me so we...

                 I was texting one of my friends this week and she said, “I feel like 2022 is going to be your year.” She might be right. I mean, so far so good. It’s eight days in, and I feel significantly better than I have in a while. A mixture of sleep over the holidays, a much-needed breakdown, and permission from my surgeon to do light exercise again has allowed me to enter this year with a lot more acceptance of where I’m at and motivation to get better.                 One of my favourite podcasts is Happier with Gretchen Rubin. Every year, her and her sister pick a one word them for the year. It’s never something I participated in in the past, but then came Yoga with Adriene’s 30 Day Yoga Journey.                 This year’s theme? Move. For some reason, this spoke to me. This year, I want to move.    ...

When I thought about writing this post, I thought about how to best show off my year. I wanted to do 21 things I did in 2021, but something about that feels off.  In all honesty, last year was hard for me. I told Matt this recently, and he was under the assumption that 2020 would have been worse. It wasn't.  Around this time last year, I was waiting to start therapy back up again. I was already in an emotional strained place. In February, I got injured. I lost all of my coping strategies. I was in pain, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't clean my room, and I couldn't ski. I didn't realize it until I was out of it, but it drove me into a five-month depressive episode.  I should have seen the signs. I had no motivation to do anything. I couldn't read, and I wasn't journaling - even when I started to feel better.  Fast forward to June, and my knee wasn't getting better. Then, I find out the extent to which I was actually injured and have to deal with that.  I...