Showing posts with label Seasonal Affective Disorder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seasonal Affective Disorder. Show all posts

Saturday, January 21, 2023

MUSINGS BY THE BONFIRE

My wee Miya Maria and me... Musing beneath the trees.
TAKEN: December 29th, 2022

Well, it appears I have once again survived 'Blue Monday'

Though I'm sure some men might consider Blue Monday what follows the weekend if they didn't get laid, but I am referring to the Monday that is identified world wide as 'the most depressing day of the year.' 

The exact day is calculated by assessing weather (W), post-holiday debt (d), time since Christmas (T), failing New Year's resolutions (Q), low motivation (M), and a lack of decisive action (Na). This year, it was Monday January 16th.

For fun, here is my current assessment and reflection of their criteria:

Weather – The weather man is the only dude that can do his job wrong 100% of the time and not get fired.

Post-Holiday Debt – Don’t have any. Hard to go into debt when all you do is put up the same lights, decorate the tree the same every year, and only purchase heart felt gifts for three loves.

Time Since Christmas – This one has a reverse effect for me. I cringe when they start pushing me at Hallowe’en to 'deck the stinkin' halls'.

Failing New Year’s Resolution -  Didn’t make one. I set goals I want to accomplish but never make resolutions

Low Motivation -  This one did tick a box or two this year. Unnecessary and immature drama prior to breaking for the holidays tainted my time off. There were lots of tears. I realize now it was my own fault for allowing it to bother me. It’s over now, and I was feeling great prior to January 16th .

Lack of Decisive Action: Not with this cat. Booked and paid for my birthday trip  to Vegas on Black Friday, paid off the car more than a year early, and continually remove toxic people from my life. If there is one thing I am – it is extremely decisive!

As an aside, for me this milestone day doesn't register in the same way it may with others. I find it important to acknowledge because it signifies the end of my season affective cocoon (aka: time change coma) and is the beacon of light at the end of the tunnel which leads me to spring. Coles notes, it means the shortest day of they year has passed and the longest day with sunlight is on the way.

As I look at the photo I am sharing, I love that I captured such a great moment. Sitting by the fire, Miya waiting for the next snowball to be thrown, with music filling our yard. It was truly a great day.

Sitting there sipping, I remember in the moment turning to my husband and raising my Yeti. "Let’s face it," I said. 

"It is on days like these that I am convinced that wine was invented because God just wanted all of us to be happy!"

As we both chuckled at my spontaneity, I leaned over and clinked his can, then I continued as I always do. "Ya gotta laugh about it," I said. 

Ya just always gotta laugh about it! 

...Take THAT Blue Monday!!

Thursday, November 10, 2022

TWO YEARS NEXT WEEK

Discovering the beautiful resort beach on our first night in Mazatlán Sinaloa
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 2019


It’s that time of year again, where the clocks fall back, and I fall into a six week struggle to stay awake during the day and get a good sleep at night. As a result, my day in my home office starts a half hour early, so I can tour around the Trip Central website; dreaming I will find a February deal.

It is hard to believe it has been exactly two years next week since I snapped the pic I am sharing. 

Less than three months after this photo was taken, we were both so ill it was mind blowing, with nothing but speculation as to why. Then, in March of 2020 lockdown began. 

Well, for the second time in less than two years, we both spent the last three weeks getting over what we suspected we had nineteen months previously. Except this time around we could test ourselves to confirm what in January 2020 we could not. 

On the mend with days getting shorter, once again we rally to finish out the cottage season and close it down. The final five boards will be attached to the new deck Saturday morning and Sunday morning we will shut water off and head up the hill.

Every year I hope we will get to hike and haul everything in for a couple of nights over Christmas, but that hasn't happened since the extremely mild December of 2014 - so the expectation it will happen is low - yet my fingers are crossed.

The upcoming 2023 presents a big milestone wedding anniversary in June for us which we began discussing on our drive to and from the Outer Banks. But prices are just too extreme at this juncture to make any decisions. 

Though we've always set a certain amount of money aside every week to travel, with uncertainty in the economy and costs where there are now, I can't see us crossing the pond nor taking an Alaskan cruise (which has my husbands' vote).

Instead, I imagine I will keep dreaming of finding a great travel deal, then hire an excavator to put a new driveway in at the cottage... and together he and I will properly rebuild those shitty fifty-five stairs and associated landings.

Happy Anniversary to us!

Sunday, November 22, 2020

SNOW IT STARTS!

The frozen precipitation I deem a constant irritant and source of months of personal misery landed last week. Allow me to draw to your attention to exhibit 'A' below: my frustrating flakey foe. Stupid f*cking snow! 

My pretty pups posing with my frozen foe!
TAKEN: NOVEMBER 16th, 2020


Dirty chirps aside, like I do every autumn, I force myself to push through this horrible six weeks of time change purgatory, until the days begin to get longer and the UV rays reflect off our pristine white blanket in January. 

With my seasonal affective disorder at its most debilitating in November, I always spend time looking for positive distractions. This electronic journal helped me in the fall of 2011 and in post Thanksgiving time changes since, I have leaned on it more often than not. 

This year, with all that's happening you would think I would want to write more, yet my creative canvas appears completely blank. Therefore, if writing isn't going to be where I channel my energy,  I have resigned myself to the fact that I am going to need another outlet. 

With that in mind, three weeks ago I took a giant step and dug out and dusted off my trustworthy treadmill. It stands proud upstairs, looking out the big picture windows and I enthusiastically offer it social niceties multiple times a day. 

So far, I have yet to plug the power cord into the wall and take it for a spin. Guess its because I'm a firm believer you can't rush back into a physical relationship, when you've completely ignored its purpose for over five years; which is why this weekend I shifted my focused to the upcoming holiday season. 

With the kids grown and gone, there isn't near as much to look forward to as their use to be, yet I do my best to get into the spirit of things. Though I never ask for anything, I do love to gaze at my Christmas tree lights each night for the entire month of December, bringing specific enlightenment to my earlier attempt at a new energy absorbing distraction. 

You see, I put my newly dusted off old chum in the very same spot I always put the holiday Christmas tree that houses those 500+ beautiful LED lights I love. 

Knowing Christmas lights trump everything, I am feeling very grateful I only ever offered a cheerful good morning to my buddy, never hopping on with false intentions. 

Because I know now, that we would have just gotten back into a familiar rhythm, and I would have had to fold 'er up and move 'em to the cold garage, alone, until early January 2021.  Once again proving, the creative process and this silly electronic journal offer me the crystal clear clarity and self enabling justification I crave this time of year. 

Which leaves me hollering, yet again.... Pass the chocolate cake, spark another Hallmark movie, and deck the freaking halls! 

Oh, before I forget. Is there anyone around next weekend to help me move a treadmill?

#yagottalaughaboutit 

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

TRICKY TRAVEL TALK

Last week, after noticing that some of my Canadians snowbird pals were beginning to flock south until next spring, I decided to open up a social media discussion on the possibility of upcoming travel to the Caribbean in the winter of 2021. 

I knew I might be encroaching on a tricky topic with some controversial dialogue happening, yet in the wide reaching forum I created, my network answered both respectfully and with personal honestly.

Wind blown, cruising the Mississippi River aboard The Natchez New Orleans
TAKEN: MAY 29th, 2019

As I sit here and type, I can't help but revisit the very first comment on my thread. A seasoned traveler wrote – “No travel until I’m vaccinated!”

On the day of the election of the 46th President of the United States, I can’t help but wonder what’s next in both the virus protection and travel departments. 

Right or wrong, a vaccine produced without proof of proper exploratory stages, pre-clinical development and regulatory review for approval, is not something I am rushing to put into my body. 

The shoe on the other foot reminds me that my thread wasn't intended to be a vaccination debate, more about travel input and opinions as I am hoping to hatch a plan and ultimately travel while respecting imposed limitations.  

With my sunny wings potentially grounded indefinitely, I know I could always travel and remain in Canada,  which is probably my best option at this point. I have family and friends out it BC, so that may be my overall 2021 birthday trip goal.

That said, vaccine or not, if the mandatory 14-day quarantine upon return to Canada is lifted, I will be sitting on a beach in the Caribbean quicker a snowsquall can move into Muskoka knocking out a neighbourhood of Bell satellite dishes.

Trust me.... Here, with our unpredictable winter storm crap?

That's 5G, Flash Gordon, blink and pack because you're leaving on a plane, fast! 

#nufsaid

Thursday, October 8, 2020

LEAF IT TO ME

Raking leaves... My pregame for snow shoveling!
TAKEN: OCTOBER 8th, 2020

When walking in the evening with the pups the last couple of weeks, I noticed the neighbouring yards quickly filling with colourful foliage. 

Tonight, a sight to behold, I couldn’t help but giggle thinking those vibrant leaves offer their ultimate beauty… When they are being cleaned up by someone other than me!

As you know, I chronicle in this electronic journal every October just how much I love this time of year. Everything feels crisp, the wood burning stove at the cottage makes everything really cozy, and gravy officially becomes my favourite food group. 

For whatever reason, I find there is a harmony offered in autumn that no other season brings. A mellow sense of calming that I've enjoyed and embraced which always brings me into a familiar cyclical rhythm.

The leaves fall and get cleaned up. Enough wood gets split and piled. The garage gets cleaned out of spring and summer crap... and weekly outdoor burning of yard debris kicks off with the help of a wee bit of gasoline. 

For some strange reason, specific fall activities seem to help me prepare mentally for the bright white blanket that arrives in early January; when my snowshoes relieve my angst.

All of that shared, I can’t help but be preoccupied with the fact that this will be the first fall in the last six that I won’t be jumping on a plane for a burst of November vitamin D. 

I was chatting with my bestie today. She also suffers with Seasonal Affective Disorder in the same way I do. With everything locked down, we discussed what the next six months of darkness may offer. I know there’s no magic wand that can help but I am hopeful our daily check ins and dialogue will get us through.

As World Mental Health Day approaches October 10th, I can’t help look to the inspiring quote: “When darkness comes, let us not condemn the dark, but light a light to illuminate it.”

They mean that I need to buy more happy lights, right?

Because that’s how interpret it... as I head online with my credit card!

Thursday, August 20, 2020

A SNACK BRACKET

My very favourite client was in the office last week and he said to me… “Rhondi, just like you, I’ve had Covid-19.”

We burst out laughing after he continued with, “At the end of all of this, I’m not sure if it will end up being nineteen pounds, or nineteen kilograms!” 

I don’t know about you, but as an emotional eater, I can generally peg the time of year when circus music begins to chime in my ear signaling me to buy stock in the most profitable potato chip company. And I can assure you, every fall, any and all are generously sampled; as part of my annual stock purchase evaluation.

What can I say. I was a fat toddler. I was power fed homogenized milk, and in those days the perception was the fatter the better. The good news is I shed that baby fat, the bad news is those formed fat cells follow you forever.

I have always been athletic and outgoing but when perimenopause clicked in everything changed. My body absorbed food differently and in one year my metabolism changed exponentially. It was in that moment I knew I was being put to pasture.

Kicking and screaming and the better part of a year later, I lost the excess weight and changed my lifestyle. That was in 2012.

Even with a major change in lifestyle, winters and my seasonal affective disorder in this harsh tundra have me pulling my gravy crutch out of the hall closet bringing the five or ten pound of weight gain that accompany it. The good news is those extra pounds were always shed before I ever had to appear in any sort of summer shorts or swimming outfit. 

This year? We locked down. I filled up. The rest is history!

I want to shed the pounds I’ve gained yet I am a creature of habit. 

If gravy has a crutch, my philosophy that if I share with the pups I am really only taking in 1/3 of the calories must be a motorized wheelchair. One chip for each of you, one chip for me. One jelly bean for each of you, one jelly bean for me; and trust me, I am always fair in the distribution department.

I guess you could say that the only way the dogs keep the upper paw on me is because they don't have to share their dog cookies with me. Though I must say, on occasion the label on the front of the box has made it cross my mind.

Not gonna lie.... Those gravy covered Milk Bone dog biscuits definitely land within my mid-winter snack bracket!!

#yagottalaughaboutit

dog and cookies on orillia lake
It would appear that Annie and I have similar snackage struggles
TAKEN: AUGUST 7th, 2020


Friday, November 1, 2019

WINTER SUCKS!

My photos were taken exact 163 hours apart.
I really do dread this time of year!
TAKEN OCTOBER 27th & NOVEMBER 1st, 2019
I don't know about you, but fall for me is like an amazing twelve week shopping spree that eventually ends with an epic case of buyer’s remorse. 

It's as if Labour Day is the milestone signaling me to head the shopping mall. Thanksgiving brings the expensive and very euphoric sexy shoe purchase, and by Halloween the fun becomes strained.

Ultimately, by the time we turn the clocks back, the Visa bill with interest arrives; and that final buzz kill leaves me grumpy for the six long months of winter that follow.

As you know, the time change is a big deal for me. So many things I dread just naturally happen. Every. Single. Year.

Almost immediately after we 'fall back', I leave for work in the dark and arrive home under the same circumstance. The swashbuckling pirates that produce my bogus hydro bill begin to circle like vultures, and it takes every fiber of self-restraint to not put gravy on absolutely everything I eat. As an emotional eater, at least I know the latter feeds into my 24-7 need for comfort, when I am simply always glum.

All my bitching aside, I understanding time is precious and I truly do hate to wish it away but 2019 has not been a remarkable year of magnificent for me. Rather, I feel I have been repeatedly tested.

The truth is, with 61 days left until the year ends, I sense I’m in high school again. Specifically in grade 12 Chemistry when my teacher gave me a passing grade. Not because I'd aced his class, just simply because I'd tried as hard as I could and never once gave up.

Reinforcing, yet again, that even if you didn't have a shit year nor suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder,  there are two things I know to be true.

That life is really hard, right up until the moment it isn't.

... and that WINTER SUCKS!

Sunday, October 6, 2019

REALISTIC RHON2theDEE

I headed south yesterday for some much needed face time and a super-size jolt of retail therapy.

It’s not like I'd put a lot of thought into hatching my Friday plan, because let’s face it, I rarely set time aside for myself and actually follow through. I think it was because I got a random text message from a friend that works in the city that simply read: “You OK?”

At first I wondered if he'd had some insight to my last couple of weeks, but at the end of the day he admitted that he’d checked my blog and noticed I hadn’t posted in almost a month, hence why he was checking in.

Truth of the matter is, during that period, every time I sat down to write there was another item much more pressing on my list of things to do, in need my attention.

Even my coffee was SHOCKED how crazy my summer was!
TAKEN: AUGUST 24, 2019

You see, my husband had surgery the first week of August which was followed by an eight week recovery stint. It was his third procedure for the same ailment, so I knew what to expect as far as him getting back on his feet. Though he’s weathered another storm, yours truly is absolutely exhausted. 

Maintaining a home, cottage, and pack of pups all alone is not for the faint of heart.

Factor in that I’ve had my busiest year at work to date, and the lethargy thickens.

Top it all off with the fact that I am on a mission to lose weight, and I feel the need a power nap just typing the words. What’s a girl to do?

I looked at taking a trip. This time last year I was planning a trip to eat KFC at the pyramids with my girlfriend for her 50th birthday. But almost a year later she was unexpectedly pitched the fastest curve ball ever thrown, so understandably, we've been forced to circle to airport indefinitely.

So I shifted my focus to a Toronto Raptors road trip (Pelicans, Clippers, Lakers) but I know better than most that I am in need of light, not hype. Then, about a week ago I came close to booking a return engagement in Mexico, but talked myself out of it. That point is not moot and entirely another post, so let's move along.

As the seasons change and I prepare to dress in layers, both with my clothing and with as many blankets I can cover myself with as I curl up in a ball in the closet, I realize just how big a realist I truly am. I know what’s coming and I will deal with the hand I’m dealt as I pick up each and every card. 

To shed some light, I read somewhere that realist is someone that has gone through hell and been purified. A pessimist is someone that's taken a similar path and been burned. 

Though I have been burned many times, I feel my purification process has evolved from my ability to understand what’s happening at the time, and my ability to swiftly remove any/all contaminants from my presence.

Just so we're clear... By contaminants, I mean complete and total bullshit!

OK, so writing that made me laugh.

Mission accomplished.

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

MY 'FALL BACK' BLUES

Loving life, Los Cobos
& the Sea of Cortez!
TAKEN: DECEMBER 1st, 2015
In the midst of planning a winter girlz getaway this coming February, I reflected.  For the first time since November 2014, I have to deal with my seasonal affective ‘Fall Back Blues’ without a juicy jolt of Vitamin D.

Truth of the matter is that this time around I entered into the annual grove feeling amazing, as well as completely mentally prepared. So much so that I was generally confident those suckers would stay at bay.

Then, by the time I went to bed last Saturday night, I knew certain tell-tale behaviours had effortlessly latched onto me without warning.

For example, even though I slept very well Friday night, I felt a strong cosmic pull toward my king-size bed late Saturday morn.  That undeniable force had me act on an innate desire to be bundled up like a mama bear bumbling to her den for the winter; and for the record, I'm not exactly proud of what followed.

For what it's worth, I am generally embarrassed to admit that I folded like a lawn chair & curled up in said bed with my three pups (and as many blankets) submitting to the molecular desire to delve into the exponentially spellbinding plot twists of a handful of Hallmark Christmas movies.

Even worse, in the midst of my much needed 'everyone lives happily ever after' fix, I ate junk food. After the bag of chocolate covered peanuts were devoured, I chowed down on fresh bread and butter (which I haven’t in months). Then, to compound both of the above, I swear I looked in the fridge at least a dozen times for my go to comfort food. I am pleased to report that my husband seriously keeps that shit locked down, so I failed to consume any gravy!

Laugh if you must but I am being completely honest.  My exciting ‘glass half full’ epiphany is that by 8pm Saturday night I recognized I was in a junk food/fully indulgent BAD movie vortex, which in itself was an amazing breakthrough for me. 

As you know, since my Dad passed in 2005, food has always been something I’ve had to tread lightly with. I am an emotional eater, and it appears the fall-back time change admittedly connects my lack of light with very stupid dietary decisions.

I am so very grateful to be able to talk about my struggle here but I am most appreciative of the career crew I have in my everyday life. They know how hard I work to maintain a good diet and healthy lifestyle, and they recognize my wins. It is amazing to be surrounded by a tightly knit group of people that unconditionally support each other. Every. Single. Day.

Oh, and to my husband... for hiding the gravy.

Really. I'm dead serious. Gravy is the devil!!

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

MY DARK REALITY

My 7am walk in the rain with the streetlights on.
TAKEN: SEPTEMBER 25th, 2018

So, it's official. I won't be heading into the sunshine at the fall back time change, as those strict savings were allocated toward lowering the purchase price of a new vehicle. Though I could have juggled and managed both financially, I'm keeping a stiff upper lip (whilst pouting profusely) by refusing to travel on previously earmarked savings or credit.

As a possible pick me up, I will report that I've decided only to listen to Bob Marley that week on the custom Bose sound system my new ride's equipped with, which could be deemed as a small concession, as the 'Port Carling-mobile' was a must have purchase.

'Must have’ ...an interesting approach to an item, isn't it?

Matter a fact, I was just talking to a couple of guys on my team last week about certain personality types and their somewhat incessant need for instant gratification of material purchases. That casual dialogue, led to a neat conversation about the understanding of want vs. need in the lifestyle spending department: In that I wanted to go to Jamaica in November, yet I was in need of another vehicle. 

Here's the skinny. When I walked to carpool this morning in the rain, the street lights were on, warning me that hell is on the horizon for me.  Hell may be a strong visual to inflict here but you can’t understand an others personal struggle with a lack of natural light until you’ve experienced its direct effect. Never the less, if I want to cross the pond for the first time for my next birthday, concessions had to be made and I had to come to grips with the dark reality that there will be very little fall sunlight. 

Let’s face it... I’m no spring chicken. For decades, money’s been squirreled away for that rainy day that'll most likely resemble this morning. In a perfect scenario, my attitude will be as positive as ever.

I'll be the life of the party, rocking out to AC-DC’s Shook Me All Night Long, gripping my walker, nursing a recently healed broken hip from break-dancing; in one very kick-ass mature lifestyle community.** 

Glass half full? 

It will be paid for... and I'll be revered by all, for still truly remembering the 1980's.

**: This kick-ass community may or may not be located in Jamaica!

Monday, February 5, 2018

FEBRUARY, PLEASE BE KIND

FUN FACT #1: Did you know that there are roughly sixty four shades of blue?
FUN FACT #2: In the past, I've suffered a varying levels of many during February.

As I always try and own the second fun fact, I can’t help but go on record with the thought that this past month of January, felt like a really tough year. As we roll into February, I'll enthusiastically start the new calendar month with a smile on my face, simply because I've officially made it. 

When the children left for post secondary school, we originally began travelling in February. Not sure why really, outside the fact that we'd never done so & everybody in our neck of the tundra seemed to. A couple of years in, we took the twins and the pups and rented a pet friendly house in South Carolina. I couldn't believe how that early jolt of vitamin D aided with my symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder.

As that year rolled into the next, I soon discovered that we could very economically head into the light at the fall time change, skip mid-winter travel, wait until my birthday in spring and essentially get away twice for the price of an all inclusive week in February. So that's what our travel timing shifted to.

Then, this time last year, I took my daughter on a quick 4 night weekend jaunt to Cuba. It was intended to serve as quality time for the both of us, but at the end of the day, those 4 nights made the world of difference for both of us personally. 

By 1 pm that first full day on the beach, I could feel myself awaking from my winter slumber. But it wasn't just me, it was my daughter too. She was participating around the pool, running along the beach, and embracing every single minute. 

A weekend win on every possible level, it was upon my return that I realized that moving forward, some similar type of February mini vaycay was something I needed. So I baked a value into my annual travel budget and Bob's your uncle; I was on my way.

This year my daughter isn't coming with as she's spending this weekend in Ottawa with friends, skating on the Rideau Canal and enjoying the city in general. Instead, I am taking my other Sweetie; my husband, and we are headed to Bahamas for the very first time.

Photographic proof of my daughter kicking February's ass....Old school!
TAKEN: FEBRUARY 2017 & FEBRUARY 2018


I booked it Black Friday for less than what it would have cost us to return to Cuba for that same four day stint I did last year. The only downside is that I had to take a hammer to my piggy bank this morning.... Why?

Because when doing my due diligence, I figured out why it's "Better In The Bahamas." Everything has at least four dollar signs attached ($$$$) even the Starbucks in the lobby. With my birthday trip booked and the planning of our 30th anniversary in June underway, I don't care. We are totally worth it and we are gonna have a blast.

Not to mention... I get yet another brand new stamp in my passport!

Giddy UP!!