Real Talk

Jan 28

ANDI

It’s kind of hard to know where to start when talking about mental health, especially personal mental health. But I do really think it should be talked about the same way as physical health and wellbeing. I think personal mental health sick days should be just as easy to ask for as regular sick days (and then you remember those employers who told you to suck it up and get back to work, like bro I just threw up in the staff bathroom but okay.) Thankfully I’m not nearly as accommodating as I used to be so I don’t put up with that shit anymore.

I know that I was a sensitive kid growing up; I was reactive and emotions came quickly and easy to me, and I picked up on other people's vibes. Wanna see my birth chart? I totally have it! But I never thought of myself as anxious. Anxiety wasn’t something I experienced until adulthood. I’d say around 23 it got really bad and now, as I near 28, I feel like I’m finally starting to feel like my old self again. I’m just getting that confidence back that I used to have. I think of me at 21, darting through bros at the bar with my best friend by my side and I truly remember feeling invincible (drunk confidence?) and cool and like an independent bad bitch, and I wasn’t faking it at all. If you’ve met me in the last five years and thought “wow much confidence, very self love” I was often, faking it. Fake it till you make it, baby! Although, being on stage is one of the few places I still got to catch a glimpse of my old self.

Every single person's experience and journey with mental health is different. I would say in the grand scheme of things, mine has been manageable and I am also fortunate to have a really supportive core group of people who are open and comfortable talking about mental health. The biggest thing for me was asking for help and telling people that I wasn’t okay. This might not mean anything, but I am an INFP-T Mediator personality type. Basically I like to keep the peace, will push down my own discomfort/feelings in favour of others feeling comfortable and I am always concerned with people thinking I have it together. I worry about the “Oh wow, Andi isn’t okay” or “hmm I thought she had it all together”. I always want to appear okay and I want other people to think I am okay. Even when I’m not. That is something I am unlearning every day.

My mental health is not a harmonious hug, I still wake up wanting to swap places with someone who’s life on instagram looks ~perfect~ some days. But I try to do these things for myself, somedays I throw it all out the window but maybe you will find something in my routine that speaks to you:

I will literally stand in front of my mirror and compliment myself outloud; physical, personality traits, talents, skills. I think of them and I name them. I tell myself outloud that: I am loving, I am loved, I am beautiful, I am smart, I am valued and irreplaceable.
I ask for help. There is absolutely no shame, weakness or negativity in asking for help. I used to have a huge issue with this but I know it is really important. Everyone needs help sometimes, even Spiderman. If I am feeling really sensitive and reactive, I might even tell my partner just so he knows. Then if he does say something and I react in an angry or abrupt way, he isn’t surprised and can offer comfort. I also ask for hugs. People can’t read minds, that is just not a power we possess. So ask for help and ask for hugs.
Eliminate shame and own your decisions, big or small. When it comes to self medicating with weed and alcohol, or skipping a yoga day, instead of shaming myself I *try to* own it (lol some days I still feel shame but I try to shut it down). My therapist taught me this. While it would be amazing if I didn’t crave wine in stressful situations or a toke, I am only human, and so are you. But I used to numbly roll a joint or drink wine without tasting or experiencing it. Now when I choose wine or weed or whatever, I put myself fully in the moment. I read the tasting notes on the bottle, I relish opening it with the wine knife, I admire the dark red colour as it pours from the bottle to my glass. I smell it, I take a slow first sip and let myself taste it. I will be bougie and try to see if I can taste the things that the description told me I would. Mmm leather and red currants or whatever the fuck? Is that vanilla? Spices? Bullshit? Why am I drinking with my pinkie pointed up? This isn’t high tea with the queen. Then it isn’t a shame inducing secret I feel like hiding, it is an experience and I am living it. (And loving it, let's be honest.)
I reread books and rewatch movies that I love. Last summer when I was very depressed, crying everyday, having mood swings and doing this, my partner commented on how he didn’t think it was helping me feel better. And while I was definitely watching too much tv for anyone's health, I learned through therapy that in unpredictable times (like a pandemic) people cope by returning to things that are familiar, where we know how it ends and what to expect. I see nothing wrong with this.
I avoid toxic positivity. You know those friends who are like “well I just go for walks, and drink water and eat lots of veggies”? Sure, that can all help and it's great, take care of yourself for sure, but they aren’t going to fix the existential dread coursing through my body, CAROL! Or the “well did you try listening to some happy music and dancing? Always works for me” or a straight up “find the silver lining!” Sometimes there is no fucking silver lining and being told that just makes you want to scream into the void and it also makes you feel like you aren’t trying hard enough. Which leads to shame. And this is a shame free zone, my pals.
Get off social media. Seriously. It’s the fucking worst. There are apps with timers that will shut you out of the social apps after 20 minutes or so. Social media is the biggest fake of all. No one is having the best time all the time. We share our most shiny, bright, beautiful moments and there isn’t anything wrong with that but it also isn’t realistic. I shared a really hawt photo of myself on instagram 2 days ago. I took that photo, on New Years I think, and I love how I look and the compliments really were lovely, but I can love myself without red lipstick and likes. Lately I bum around my house in my favourite jeans and an old grey Cape Breton sweater (never even been to Cape Breton but the sweater rules). The reality is not the red lipstick. The reality is unwashed hair in a messy bun and the same jeans with an oil stain on them from putting oil into the car a week ago and eating a plain tortilla and cookie for breakfast. Get off instagram, get off Facebook, twitter, etc and just let yourself be.
Therapy! In September I started going to therapy to a family trauma and self esteem specialist. Normally I wouldn’t be able to afford it, but I got lucky and found an amazing therapist who had some Pay-What-You-Can spots open. I talk to Penny via video call twice a month about literally anything I need to. One week it will be about a professional obstacle at work, then I’ll talk about my relationships with loved ones that I’m struggling with, and the next time we talk about motivation (or lack thereof) and how I can’t even seem to stick with a 30 day yoga challenge and that feeling of failure. We talked about how we are all born assertive and then along the way of childhood we learn to be passive, aggressive or the motherload - passive aggressive!! I cannot tell you how amazing it is to go to someone, have them listen to you and help you name the things you are feeling and experiencing. Penny has never made me feel judged, shamed or embarrassed. She is just uplifting, patient, kind and smart as hell. I encourage every person in the world to find a GOOD therapist if they have the resources to do so. Venting to your bff just isn’t the same because they will validate everything you do because they love you so much and/or they just aren’t qualified to give you the answers and guidance you need to work through personal obstacles.
I tell my trusted people when I am having a rough day. Or when I can’t be their emotional support because I feel so low and sad myself. It’s okay to let people know you can’t be there for them in that moment because you have to be there for yourself. It’s okay to put yourself first in these ways. Gently tell them you need space from talking about heavy shit. They love you and will understand.
Mostly I am just trying to show myself the same love I show my partner, siblings, parents, friends, pets and community. We deserve love from ourselves above all else. This is easier said than done. I catch myself a lot. But the joking “God I’m such a dumb bitch” remarks I used to make to myself are gone. Because your brain listens to that, joke or not, and all it hears is mean words directed at your bomb-ass self. Say nice things to yourself. If you would buy your friends flowers, buy yourself flowers. If you would go for a walk with a friend and buy them a coffee, you are your own built in best friend! Treat yo self! Do you light candles for hot dates? Light candles for yourself and date yourself. Show that best friend love and they will return the favour.

Every mental health experience is different. I am in no way a mental health professional. If you are struggling, please reach out. Truly, you are not alone. I am happy to share the resources people have shared with me.

A love letter from me to myself and to you:

You are loved. You are lovable. You are loving. You are worthy, valid, important and irreplaceable. You have skills and talents that add beauty to the world around you. You are smart, beautiful and compassionate. I love you. Be gentle with yourself.

Love,

Andi

GEOFF

Yo Dawgies, time to get real here. I don’t say much publicly, but today I’ve got something personal and relevant so HERE GOES!

All my life I have struggled with anxiety, depression, and a whole lot of frustration with myself. I have constantly found myself overwhelmed, feeling paralyzed and unable to improve on my issues. I have created a lot of chaos for myself and worst of all, at times created chaos for those closest to me. It’s been a lot of stabbing in the dark looking for solutions and beating myself up for not finding any. About two years ago I started to reach out for help, finally accepting that there was a high possibility that the solutions I sought were not being found because I was approaching my issues from a flawed framework. I started to realize that maybe I do have agency, a concept that was a dream to me at the time. Perhaps proper mental and emotional management and utilization of said agency could not be achieved with my limited and negatively-biased perspective of myself, especially considering that I had normalized a lot of issues I struggled with for decades.

Ultimately, my reflection led me to reach out for help, which culminated in my recent diagnosis of ADHD with depression comorbidity. I had been undiagnosed for 33 years and ADHD was completely off my radar for most of my life. It was a total game changer. (Stats say 80% of people with adult ADHD are currently undiagnosed, by the way.) There was so much I hadn’t known or had not properly understood about myself, and in light of this diagnosis I felt (and continue to feel) a thirst to build on my still limited knowledge. I began to try to learn what I could about ADHD, and I was pleasantly surprised that the more I learned the better I felt. I felt seen in a strange new way. I felt like I finally had a hope of understanding myself. I immediately discovered a newfound compassion for myself and the countless others with similar stories. I found myself thinking more and more about the range of mental health issues and how little I understood, but obviously I’m not alone. I watched a video of an ADHD specialist giving a lecture to a hall full of hundreds of practicing doctors - the video was recent, not even 5 years ago. The specialist was speaking to hundreds of doctors about ADHD because it is still so widely misunderstood in the medical community that it continues to be largely misdiagnosed or undiagnosed. It makes me wonder - how many people are out there struggling because they’re misdiagnosed, or undiagnosed? When ADHD alone is so misunderstood and so widespread, it’s hard to imagine the full scope of what we fail to understand, educate about, and effectively treat today regarding mental health as a whole. The consequences of this can be utterly tragic at worst if not unnecessarily stagnating at best.

Receiving a diagnosis from a trusted source is huge in and of itself, let alone any prescription or treatment. Again, it’s about finding the proper framework to examine oneself. For the first time in my life I feel like I have found the right framework, one that makes sense for me. Somebody close to me recently asked me what my diagnosis means for me. No, it’s not an easy instant fix-all. My issues are still here, and they’re still mine to navigate. However, a proper diagnosis and treatment means I can now stop grasping at straws and stabbing in the dark, beating myself up to no positive effect, and instead equip myself with effective tools to manage myself and move forward. For that, I feel so, so lucky.

I have one last thought I’d like to touch on before wrapping this up, it’s kind of related/unrelated. I’m trying really hard to ignore/resist the toxic “self love” narrative that, in my opinion, is sometimes carelessly pushed around. Self-love is important, but I have witnessed the idea of “self-love” being used, even if unconsciously, as a mask to validate unhealthy self-obsession, or cover for insecurity. Basically I see it being used in a very shallow way, as though self love is just incorporating positive self talk, or working on body positivity. This can be really toxic for people who are struggling, depressed, even suicidal. Real self love isn’t as easy as “just love yourself more, it’s ok to be more selfish, look out for number 1”. All of those could be just fine, but they fail to recognize the reality that we all need love from other sources than ourselves. If you have healthy self-esteem and know your true worth, that’s fucking awesome. My issue is that when I see people or groups, promoting this “all you need is you, you gotta love yourself first” bullshit, it can really add to the shame and frustration that people who struggle with mental health issues might feel about needing help. I believe that we are all a part of something bigger and that to love ourselves we must try and love all that we are a part of, and to also try not compromise one for the other. I’ve yet to find that balance, but I’m trying to keep that in my mind and in my heart.

It’s mental health awareness day, so I invite anybody who might relate to this type of struggle to try and adopt a philosophy of compassion for themselves and others, and recognize that (again lol) the proper framework is absolutely essential for the facilitation of growth and healing. We really need to lose the stigma attached to diagnosis and treatment, and recognize that mental health issues are still largely misunderstood, even in the medical community. These days, with everybody being more and more isolated, this is more important than ever. We gotta take good care of ourselves and recognize that in order to do so we all need to be cared for as well. I am so grateful for the care I've been given, and the care that I'm learning to give more and more to myself and others. I’m starting to really learn the truth that if I want to be there for others I need to show up for myself. At the same time, if I want to help myself and be caring towards myself, then I need to also be willing to ask for and receive help and care from others.

LOL (lotsoflove),

-G

EMILY

TW: suicide, self-harm.

I used to think that mental health and the discussions surrounding it just weren’t directed at me. I don’t have a diagnosis. I don’t require medication. There is nothing “wrong” with me. I don’t need any help. I’m clear-headed and smart and I have perfect mental health as a result, right? Yeesh. I’m going to share a bit about me to show just how off the mark I was.

All my life I have wanted to be a strong person - strong of body, strong of mind, strong of character. I have prided myself in my ability to be adaptable and compatible, thinking that if I just work hard enough, I can achieve anything. While this mindset can be a positive motivator, I have also witnessed how pushing myself too hard can cause the pendulum to swing the other way, and when it swings, it swings hard. It took hitting rock bottom for me to realize that I had just been pushing myself to dig a hole.

I used to look at my emotions as battles I had to fight in order to appear strong and in control. Anything outside of the realm of appearing happy was to be shot on sight. I created an unbelievably convincing mask that I could put on any time I waged my little wars, and I could convince anyone that everything in my life was fine. I mean literally anyone - including myself. I didn’t even notice when my mental health started to slip. It felt like I was just in a bit of a rut, and the reason was because I wasn’t working hard enough. Any uncomfortable situation I was in was my fault for not pushing myself. Any unwanted emotion was there because I didn’t try hard enough.

After many years of convincing myself of this, my thoughts started to take a serious turn. My inability to be happy and fulfilled by life made me feel empty. I simply wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t do enough. I would never be enough. Why can’t I just be better? Just be BETTER. FEEL better. I wholly believed I was a complete failure, that I was nothing. I stopped eating. I stopped sleeping. I started daydreaming about suicide like a crush.

Now, you must understand, all of these thoughts were deeply concealed. If you looked at my life from the outside, it certainly seemed like everything was grand. My career was successful, I had just started a new band with some pals (surprise, t’was Bad Buddy), I had great relationships, and a wonderful family - what’s not to love? I would look at my life through this outside perspective and feel such profound shame. Shame for being ungrateful. Shame for being weak. Shame for simply not being okay. I felt so strongly that I couldn’t tell anybody about how I was feeling. I was so sure anyone who found out about my mental state would then see me as I saw myself - unworthy of life. I was absolutely certain that opening up would not only make whoever I told furious at me, but would only result in them reminding me of what I already knew - everything I was experiencing was entirely my own fault and it was because I wasn’t putting enough effort in. I only had myself to blame, and so only I could fix it.

It wasn’t until I was about to physically harm myself that something switched inside of me. I remember staring at an open can of tuna on the counter and thinking about how if I cut myself really badly, I could go to the hospital and I wouldn’t have to be where I was anymore. In that moment, I snapped. I had found the rock bottom of the seemingly endless hole I had been digging. It was as though I woke up in my own body after being in a six-year trance, and in that moment, I made the hardest decision I have ever had to make, and I reached out for help.

I started really small. I would tell people a little bit about how I was feeling and then would brace for impact, but no one lashed out at me, no one scolded me, and no one blamed me. People started to reach out to me, as well. The people who I had been the most afraid to talk to, my family and friends, held me up. The depth of the support I received was staggering, and I will never be able to fully express the gratitude I have for the compassion I was shown or the care I was given. My eyes were opened to this vast and beautiful support system I was previously blind to. I had spent so much time alone at the bottom of a hole, I couldn’t believe I never thought to call out and see if anybody had a rope.

All my life I have wanted to be a strong person without thinking about how there is the greatest strength in numbers. I often think of the analogy of a choir: a choir is able to hold a note impossibly long, because when one person needs to breathe, the rest of the group can hold the note while they rest. My choir was my family, and my friends, and a healthy dose of therapy.

Mental health affects absolutely everybody. There is obviously a lot that we don’t know about how the mind works, and therefore we’re all just scratching the surface of how to properly care for this most precious and mysterious organ. I DO know that removing the stigmas surrounding mental health treatments, providing resources for people who are struggling with their mental health, and ensuring that equal care is given to people of all races, genders, and sexual orientations is a really good place to start. Not everyone is as lucky as I am to have such a strong safety net, and I hope that we as a community can work to help those who need it most.

I’m working every day to go easier on myself. I’m trying to care for my body and my brain, for one can not succeed without the other. I’m trying to be gentle. I am so happy to be alive, even living in the absolute shite version of reality we’re all suffering through. Let’s work to be kind to one another. Don’t be afraid to seek help. Carry the note when you can, but take a breath when you need to.

I miss you all, and I’d really like to see us all come out of this on the other side. Now, I’m going to give myself a sweet mental health break and take the rest of the night off.

Love you, Boos.

Sincerely,

- emily.