Tuesdays with Morrie [an old man, a young man, and life's greatest lesson]

I don't remember the last time I read a book so quickly. Maybe the 900-odd page Game of Thrones tomes I've been reading lately have impeded speedy reading enjoyment, but I breezed through Tuesdays with Morrie within a handful of hours. The book was exactly what I needed in my life now.

I've danced around the issue of death and like most people, unless having dealt with a loved one's death face on, have managed to avoid delving too much into thinking about it, because I haven't had to. You'd think that with my recent near death experience (surviving a cardiac arrest) I'd be all over this shit. I've wanted to be but for the most part, I was so overwhelmingly happy to be alive, that I didn't want to think about death too deeply or too often. Having narrowly escaped death's bony embrace, there were so many other immediate things to deal with and think about. Primarily, how I want to live.

I knew this would be a subject matter I would return to sooner or later...in my own time, when I felt ready. I'm interested in how different cultures deal with and what they believe about illness, the older members of society, mortality and anything else related; but I didn't know where to start, nor did I have the appetite to.

One fateful Monday, strolling through Cronulla beach and its local shops, I popped into my new favourite bookshop. After having read all Game of Thrones books on a digital device, I decided to not do that again. Life's too short to be starring into a screen more than you have to, and I wanted the tactile quality of paper and turning pages in my hands again. So I popped into The Best Little Bookshop in Town and asked for help.

"What do you like reading?" asked the shop owner. I'm not sure I reply. I usually like Paulo Coelho but I've read most of his books. I bought the Amy Schumer book off you the other week. It's not something I'd usually go for, in fact, she makes me slightly uncomfortable but I liked that I read something different (that I thought I wouldn't normally like). And I enjoyed it. There was this other book I really liked but I can't remember the name or author....I like ancient history, fiction, not that much into real life stories normally. "Have you heard of Tuesdays with Morrie? It's an international best seller, but more importantly it's a great book, very popular" he replies. He gives me a brief synopsis. It's about a college professor who gets diagnosed with ALS (a terminal neurodegenerative disease that affects nerve cells in the brain and the spinal cord, where your body shuts down til you can't move or breathe anymore) who reconnects with one of his students after nearly 20 years. The book is about one last 'thesis' they write together, summarising their catch-ups in the lead up to the professor's death. It's about the meaning of life.

Perfect I thought. I'm sick of trying to figure out what the meaning of life is for me. It's a constant work in progress. I need a break. I want to find out what some other bozo thinks about it!

So I smashed the book overnight. I couldn't put it down. And then I cried...ugly crying. And then I took two weeks to read it again, slowly, with great big pauses in between for the thoughts to sink in and to cry some more. I even cried in public at a cafe when I was reading it, I couldn't help myself. I guess it really hit home as it succinctly articulated and cemented many of the thoughts I've been having on the topics of death and living a meaningful life.

Mitch Albom (author) with Morrie Schwartz. Photo by Heather Pillar.

I could go through and list the key points for you in short form below (I highlighted them the second time around), but sitting down now in front of my computer and leafing through the book, I realise I wouldn't be doing the story, author or Morrie any justice. And everyone I suspect, may get something different out of it, so if you're interested and ready to delve into something deeper, it's best that you read it for yourself. I couldn't recommend it highly enough for anyone wanting to live a richer life, but particularly people living with chronic or terminal illness/disease.

If you've already read this book, let me know your thoughts below. Are there any other profound books that affected you and you'd recommend to read?

Working Nine to Five

Excuse my 12 or so month hiatus. I've been back at work and since energy and time are both finite, there's been only so much I can fit into my days. More so, I haven't had anything I've wanted to tell you until now.

Like my psychiatrist appointments, I need some time between "sessions" to experience life and let things ferment, to give myself space for observation and to come up with new conclusions and ideas.

Getting back to work has been great for my confidence. It's given me the chance to connect with lots of new people and reconnect with some old friends. I've really enjoyed being able to delve into and focus on projects and feel the sense of achievement from completing tasks; emotions (control, focus and sense of achievement/completion) not often experienced during parenting.

After two clients and three major projects, which spanned 10 months, I was ready for a break. We decided to go to Europe again to visit family and friends and had a lovely (and tiring because YOLO) six weeks away. I really need to rethink the types of trips we do...but that's another story.

Prior to the trip I had sunk so deep into work that I neglected (regular/scheduled) exercise, I had neglected our family and home, and most importantly, I had neglected myself. Amongst all my responsibilities and roles, it's been hard finding a balance, and this seems to be the constant challenge.

Upon our return to Australia, I was barely recovered from jet lag and I had a meeting for another project. I wasn't ready to start again, I really needed some weeks to myself at home to relax, get back to a new sense of normal and work out (consciously) what my next steps would be. Being a consultant and by nature of the work not knowing when the next pay day will be, I told myself I have to take the work, whatever work, when it presents itself. And so I did.

I wasn't in a good place emotionally or physically at the time but I just thought of the money I'd make to replenish our depleted savings after the six week European jaunt. Again I fell into the consumerist cycle most of us fall into. Work - make money - buy shit you don't need - repeat. Which I can deal with under normal circumstances when I actually like the work and the people that I'm working with, and the buying of the shit is holidays to see loved ones (three of the core reasons I get up with pep in the morning and go to work for). But this time around, there was no pep, there was no zest. Instead there was growing dissatisfaction, constant complaining and increased frustration. I was the furthest I had been from myself for a long time and for this I was really angry.

As the weeks progressed, I began to show my frustration at work and I let people know about it. As my scope at work increased, so did my frustration and contempt. I pushed back and managed to make myself redundant from the project about a month earlier than anticipated. I experienced a set of mixed emotions about this scenario: less cash in my pocket than I had budgeted for and sad about no longer being needed, but on the other hand, I now had a new sense of freedom and excitement for life. A renewed sense of hope.

I made room in my life for what I needed, which is the space and time to re-evaluate what's working and what's not; to structure my life accordingly and find my balance. I realise not everyone is that lucky to have the opportunity to do the same. So for this I'm really grateful.

Thanks for tuning in again.

Helping Someone with PTSD

The content for this post is from Helpguide.org

Helping a Loved One or Family Member with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

Image courtesy Before It's News

When someone you care about suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), it affects you too. The symptoms of PTSD aren’t easy to live with, and the changes in your loved one can be downright terrifying. You worry that things won’t ever go back to the way they were before. At the same time, you may feel angry about what’s happening to your family, and hurt by your loved one’s distance and moodiness. It’s a stressful situation all around—one that can leave you feeling overwhelmed, even as you try your best to stay strong. The most important thing to know is that you aren’t helpless. Your support can make a huge difference in your partner, friend, or family member’s recovery. But as you do your best to care for someone with PTSD, you also need to take care of yourself.

Understanding the impact of PTSD on family & relationships

PTSD can take a heavy toll on friends and family members, and relationship difficulties are common. It can be hard to understand your loved one’s behavior—why he or she is less affectionate and more volatile. You may feel like you’re walking on eggshells or living with a stranger. You may even be afraid of the person. The symptoms of PTSD can also result in job loss, substance abuse, and other stressful problems that affect the whole family.

It’s hard not to take the symptoms of PTSD personally. When someone you love is distant, anxious, or angry all the time, your relationship suffers. But it’s important to remember that the person may not always have control over his or her behavior. Anger, irritability, depression, apathy, mistrust, and negativity are common PTSD symptoms that your loved one can’t simply choose to turn off. With time and treatment, they will get better, but it’s a gradual process.

Tips for coping with PTSD in the family

• Be patient. Getting better takes time, even when a person is committed to treatment for PTSD. Be patient with the pace of recovery. It’s a process that takes time and often involves setbacks. The important thing is to stay positive and keep at it.
• Educate yourself about PTSD. The more you know about the symptoms, effects, and treatment options, the better equipped you'll be to help your loved one, understand what he or she is going through, and keep things in perspective.
• Don’t pressure your loved one into talking. It can be very difficult for people with PTSD to talk about their traumatic experiences. For some, it can even make things worse. Instead of trying to force it, just let them know you’re willing to listen when they’re ready.
• Take care of your emotional and physical health. As the saying goes, put on your own oxygen mask first. You won’t be any good to your loved one if you are burned out, sick, or exhausted.
• Accept (and expect) mixed feelings. As you go through the emotional wringer, be prepared for a complicated mix of feelings—some of which you’ll never want to admit. Just remember, having negative feelings toward your family member doesn’t mean you don’t love them.

PTSD & the family: Social support is vital to recovery

It’s common for people with PTSD to withdraw from their friends and family. While it’s important to respect your loved one’s boundaries, too much isolation is unhealthy. Your comfort and support can help a person with PTSD overcome feelings of helplessness, grief, and despair. In fact, trauma experts claim that receiving love from others is the most important factor in PTSD recovery.
Knowing how to best demonstrate your love and support, however, isn’t always easy. You can’t be your family member’s therapist, and you can’t force him or her to get better. But you can play a major role in the healing process by spending time together and listening carefully.

Why someone with PTSD might be reluctant to seek support

• Being afraid of losing control
• Feeling weak or ashamed
• Not wanting to burden others
• Believing that others won’t understand
• Wanting to avoid thinking about what happened
• Fear that others will judge or pity them

How to be a good listener

While you shouldn’t push a person with PTSD to talk, you can let them know you’re available for them. If they do choose to share, try to listen without expectations or judgments. Make it clear that you’re interested and that you care, but don’t worry about giving advice. Leave that to the professionals. Instead, do your best to simply take in what they’re saying. Never underestimate how much the act of empathetic listening can help.

A person with PTSD may need to talk about the traumatic event over and over again. This is part of the healing process, so avoid the temptation to tell your loved one to stop rehashing the past and move on. Instead, offer to talk as many times as needed. And remember, it’s okay to dislike what you hear. Some of the things your loved one tells you might be very hard to listen to. But it’s important to respect their feelings and reactions. If you come across as disapproving, horrified, or judgmental, they are unlikely to open up to you again.

Communication Pitfalls to Avoid

• Giving easy answers or blithely telling the person everything is going to be okay
• Stopping the person from talking about their feelings or fears
• Offering unsolicited advice or telling the person what he or she “should” do
• Blaming all of your relationship or family problems on the person’s PTSD
• Invalidating, minimizing, or denying the person’s experience
• Telling the person to “get over it” or “snap out of it”
• Giving ultimatums or making threats or demands
• Making the person feel weak because they aren’t coping as well as others
• Telling the person they were lucky it wasn’t worse
• Taking over with your own personal experiences or feelings

PTSD & the family: Tips for rebuilding trust and safety

Trauma alters the way a person sees the world, making it seem like a perpetually dangerous and frightening place. It also damages people’s ability to trust others and themselves. Anything you can do to rebuild your loved one’s sense of security will contribute to recovery. This means cultivating a safe environment, acting in a dependable and reassuring way, and stepping in to help when needed. But it also means finding ways to empower the person. Smothering someone with PTSD or doing things for them that they’re capable of doing for themselves is counterproductive. Better to build their confidence and self-trust by giving them more choices and control.

Greetings from Byron Bay

When my shrink suggested I take regular time out to myself I thought "good luck" and "that will be nice". But months later I went ahead and made it a reality by committing and booking some flights. I didn't give it much thought, just took the action. Days leading up to my weekend away I was getting cold feet and contemplating cancelling. I guess I was fearful of getting out of my comfort zone and to some extend felt guilty leaving my family behind. Now that I'm here, I wish I could go back to those few moments and bitch slap myself! 

Anzac Day got me thinking: we celebrate the sacrifice that people made, essentially we are celebrating their death. So why not celebrate life as well?

To take two days/nights out of normal life, in the scheme of things, is not a big deal, but it can make a massive world of difference. So much so that I've decided to make this an annual weekend away, to coincide with my anniversary of the cardiac arrest and to celebrate living. 

Rest, relaxation, rejuvenation, reflection and taking stock. Whatever form it takes, be it an hour or two taking a long walk, having a coffee, seeing a movie, sleeping in or having some time away; we all need it.

"Get busy living, or get busy dying".

Today marks the one year anniversary of my cardiac arrest. When I woke up this morning, it wasn't the first thing I thought of. As my husband was leaving for work I was about to remind him, but I caught my tongue between my teeth and said nothing.

I have no need to relive the event or period surrounding it. What I have are no feelings. It's not even a memory. It's a tiny speckle in the far distance, of an event my husband has described to me. What I have is gratitude for the memory loss I have surrounding the event and for the psychiatric assistance I've had to get over the resounding post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) associated with it. It seems the shrink sessions worked...

Love this Angel's expression: "I have a hammer
and a book, I got shit to do, I'm busy, leave me alone!"

I love the quote from Shawshank Redemption: "Get busy living, or get busy dying". For me, it's become as simple a choice as that. My focus has been on health (healthy eating; exercise; minimising stress; resting, when possible with a two year old) and getting on with life. I'm busy living.

I went to a parenting course some weeks back where they discussed "labeling" our kids. The concept took me straight back to childhood: I was always the sick one, the weak one, I had to be constantly careful and looked after, dressed like an onion so I wouldn't catch a cold, excluded from physical activities and ostracised. I had worked really hard before the cardiac arrest to remove the "sick" label from my identity, and after the cardiac arrest, it was hard not yielding to it again. I realised in that moment I was no longer that sick person with a heart problem, or the cardiac arrest victim, I hadn't been for some time now.

50 Cent puts it well in his song Many Men (Wish Death):

Sunny days wouldn't be special, if it wasn't for rain.
Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain.
Death gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard.
It'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred.

I like these lyrics because they remind me that life is about taking the bad with the good and getting on with it. I'd rather be physically, mentally and emotionally scarred, than not be at all. And believe me, I have plenty of scars!

So to that I say: happy anniversary; and happy living to everyone!

Fight or Flight

Following a major life event, there are good and bad things about life moving on as per normal. Normality can offer a good distraction; a reason to keep going; or a good escape from the seriousness of recent events. Alternatively, it can be such a good distraction, that you never get a chance to deal with your emotions to then be able to move on and live a new kind of normal. It's so easy to get caught up in existing and functioning, that we don't permit ourselves the mental or physical space needed to deal with our emotions.

Another factor that can impact this, is time. Often it's a necessity to simply keep functioning because anything more than that is not possible, so with time, other things come out in the wash.

I was so caught up in functioning and dealing with one issue at a time, that it took me a good eight months post cardiac arrest, to realise that since the cardiac arrest I've been having nightmares every night.

I couldn't tell you specifics about the nightmares because they have always been so muddled, but the constants have been the vivid emotions I've been experiencing in them. It's always the same: violence, fearfulness, loss of control, confrontation, anger, anxiety, hatred, cruelty, hopelessness, desperation, chaos, being judged, frightfulness, frustration...amongst others. In my nightmares, I'm always pushed into situations I don't want to be in or deal with, with no choice but to haphazardly confront them.

Image courtesy of Think Inc.

To say that I've been exhausted after the cardiac arrest, is an understatement. I was constantly so tired and looking for reasons for this exhaustion, that I completely missed the obvious one: good quality sleep. It wasn't that I wasn't sleeping enough; or didn't have the ability to fall asleep. We even bought a new mattress! It was that I was having nightmares: an inescapable loop of the same, stagnant emotions in similar scenarios every single night. As a result I would wake up exhausted, in a haze and blur of confusion. I'd be cranky, impatient, unclear, unable to focus on any given task for too long, and would get worn out really easily and quickly.

So I focused on the tiredness as perhaps being caused by hypothyroidism. The (slight) hypothyroidism I've been experiencing most probably being a result of the heart medication amiodarone that I am on. There was no other logical explanation because the only thing my blood work showed were the TSH levels to indicate the hypothyroidism; and a spit test that I did showed low levels of progesterone. Essentially both tests showing that my hormones are fucked*. My cardiologist, GP and the head endocrinologist at RPAH were not concerned with my thyroid results and advised to simply keep a close eye on it.

So what next, what's the problem? No one could give me an answer. My cardiologist advised that perhaps the severe tiredness was due to sleep apnea, which is a common symptom for heart patients. So I went to my go-to guy for all things advice: my shrink. I figured he'd have a good colleague or know of a clinic he could refer me to do a sleep study. At this point I began observing my sleep looking for sleep apnea signs, but what I found instead were the constant nightmares. I told my psychiatrist about these and he was not surprised: they are a common symptom of PTSD. So we trialled a blood pressure medication which has been proven to assist PTSD patients with their nightmares. It switches off the fight or flight response experienced during sleep, giving you a chance to process and therefore wake up more refreshed and have better day-time function.

Hey presto, as expected, the medication worked overnight. The first nice dream I had in approximately eight months: and it was about my sisters. I was a little girl and they were all fussing over me and looking after me, loving me and nurturing me. The complete opposite scenario and set of emotions from my nightmares. It was exactly what I needed.

Following this I visited completely new places in my dreams. Not all my dreams were pleasant, but I no longer felt the need to escape them. In my dreams I could now control my emotions and I had choices. I could choose what I did and how I responded, and could even walk away from them or change them. This was a complete turnaround from being forced to continuously and haphazardly deal with unpleasant situations.

I took the pills for about a week and then stopped. I wanted to see what would happen when I came off them. It's been over a month now and I am happy to report that I am still visiting new places in my dreams, interacting with people and feeling more and more empowered in them. With the option of taking the medication again should I need it. I feel that even just that one week of quality sleep (minus the fight or flight hormones) was enough to kick my brain over into a new state of mind and function. I feel like a new person and enjoy each day at home with my daughter so much more now (as I'm sure she does also because I am no longer cranky). I have the ability to focus on tasks and feel much more energetic and capable of doing the things I like to do, including exercising regularly, socialising and preparing nutritious meals.

And the road to recovery continues...

What I've realised from it so far, is that the road is rocky with bumps, ditches, holes and smooth parts in between. Everyone has their own path and set of circumstances. But what I do urge all heart patients (particularly after a major cardiac event) is to not neglect their mental health and state of mind. Emotions play a major part in our healing process and capability with dealing with whatever gets thrown our way.

-----------------------------------------
*I've been doing some research on hormones and PTSD, so more on this stuff later, in another post.

The Overwhelming Lightness of Honesty

...or the overwhelming lightness of living your values.

I've been shitty lately. I couldn't put my finger on it until I was in my psychiatrist's office last month. There were a couple of catalysts but the main one that stands out in my mind is the Mexican standoff I had with a stranger in a public shopping centre carpark, the day before I saw my shrink. That was the peak of it.

Firstly, I had gone against my better judgement (and experience) by going to that carpark in the first place. In this suburb I usually park in the (un-metered) back streets about a ten minute walk away. The benefit of this is threefold: light exercise, chance to clear my mind before my appointment and no time pressure for the free parking. In this instance I thought I might try the shopping centre carpark instead, in case I wanted to also do grocery shopping. As always in the carpark, there was mass confusion and people doing stupid and illegal things like driving in the wrong lane and blocking off traffic. Long story short: a lady and I were going for the same carpark. If another carpark hadn’t become available that moment so we could each have one, I’m not sure what would have happened.

For many of you there comes a point in your life where for whatever reason, you may just snap it. You’ve kept doing the same thing over and over again and suddenly you realise, it’s just not working…and it probably never did, but you did it regardless.

I reached this point in that shitty, dark and dank basement carpark. The perfect setting for what felt like a lifetime of frustration that finally peaked and exploded. I realised in that moment that I had been putting up with a constant conflict in my value system, which created that angst, frustration and inconvenience, just so I can be nice and liked by other people. Liked by whom and for what? A stranger for letting her have the carpark, so she can be appreciative and like me, when she doesn’t even know me and will never even speak to me? WTF?!

My Mexican standoff breakthrough is, I’m sure, more (psychologically) complicated than I’m letting on. But it is not necessary to get into the detail or to analyse it to be able to portray the same takeaway message.

When a major life event occurs, like the cardiac arrest in my case, it hopefully makes you look at things and your life differently. The cliché of life being too short really rings true. Furthermore I believe it’s important, if not mandatory, to hold on to that life is too short concept to be able to make positive change in your own life. From one moment to the next, life can be over. So why spend your precious seconds, minutes, hours, days, months or years of your life being unhappy?

image courtesy of Your Core Light

I find that when I’m in the flow and living in harmony with myself and the world around me is when I’m honest with and true to my values. And that means knowing yourself and having the courage to say no to other things that conflict with those values and your happiness.

Physical Afflictions

End of June marks three months since the cardiac arrest.

Apart from the mental which I've started to delve into, there is a series of physical afflictions I've been dealing with in relation to the arrest. I have only felt comfortable sharing these now and I do so with some hesitation, but feel that I need to in order to continue on the path of healing. 

I saw my chiropractor Luke on Saturday and finally had a long overdue adjustment. Based on Luke's advice, I couldn't get my left side adjusted earlier than eight weeks after the ICD insertion, but didn't feel comfortable, mentally or physically ready to get any adjustments done until now. I've been feeling stiff and sore in different locations in my body, particularly after laying in bed and sitting around for three weeks after getting the ICD put in (which was approximately one week after the arrest). The cardiac rehabilitation program with the physiotherapist has helped, but new injuries/issues arose (e.g. hips out of whack, so kept getting a sore knee when training). I really needed an adjustment and now feel so much better for it! There were a lot of blockages, particularly (and not surprisingly!) on my left side and top half of my body.

The ICD was inserted in the left sub mammary pocket. It's usually inserted underneath the left collarbone and noticeably protrudes under the skin, but since I have a zipper scar running down the middle of my chest; and my left breast plate protrudes more than the right (both from my open heart surgery in 1988), I wanted to avoid bringing even more attention to my chest. 

For the first six weeks after the ICD insertion, I wasn't allowed to lift my left arm above shoulder height. Even if I wanted to I couldn't, because there was a lot of soreness from the operation and felt the strange sensation of the ICD leads pulling with any sudden or lifting movement. They needed time to fuse with the tissue and this takes about six weeks.

Apart from the internal stuff, I have two external scars from the surgical incisions: one close to my left collarbone where the leads were inserted; and one underneath my left breast where the ICD was inserted. Also, I have a significant scar on the left side of my neck (looks like a massive pimple) where the IV was inserted while I was in intensive care.

The whole underneath of my left breast was severely bruised from the operation and because of this and the incision underneath it, I couldn't wear a bra for four weeks.

My chest was constantly sore from the CPR, which had caused me to have fractured ribs. These can take at least six weeks to heal. Every time I breathed in I would experience sharp pains. So I got used to a shallow, half breathing type of constant state to minimise the pain.

I couldn't sleep on my front (it's my preferred go-to-sleep position) or left side, so it was impossible to get comfortable and often to fall asleep.

I had bruising and track marks like a junkie, running up and down my arms from the IVs in hospital and daily blood tests I had for two weeks while I was admitted.

I had (and still have, but somewhat slightly calmer now) pimples on mainly my neck, but also my face, back and backside from the stress from the whole event. I feel like I'm going through puberty...again. It wasn't fun the first time and it's not fun a subsequent one.

Most importantly, from being bed-ridden for a month, apart from the stiffness, I became totally unfit and struggled to even go down the twelve stairs in our building to get to the ground level. Not to mention the constant tiredness and low energy levels.

On Friday I graduated from the Cardiac Rehabilitation/Heart Failure Program at St George Hospital. I got quite emotional and upon reflection, realised what a massive milestone it is for me, particularly taking all the physical afflictions listed above into consideration. It feels like a massive achievement because I've come so far from being a fragile post operative and cardiac arrest patient, to being well on my way to feeling strong, fit and energetic again.

The visit to Luke and a couple of things he said got me thinking a lot about all these physical afflictions and how I feel about the ICD. I was hugging Chris the other night and could feel it there  between us. I feel it every night I lie in bed on my left side to go to sleep. It still feels so foreign and strange, a part that doesn't belong to me but yet is connected and vital. It's such a strange duality to experience and with time, one that I need to accept as being part of me.

I've come a long way but now realise that it's just the beginning. There's still a lot of work to do and these things can't be rushed, particularly the mental aspects. I'm just taking it one day and one milestone at a time; and practicing my deep breathing.

Making Time for Yourself

After letting the dust settle, I realised my big emotional turnaround began after our recent trip to Perth. It was a chance to get away; spend time with my dear longtime friend Jenny; stop thinking about all the heart stuff and be a family again. In those moments though, I mostly craved to connect with myself. Most prominently, I felt like I was doing a half-assed job of everything: being me, being a partner, being a mother, being a friend; being all the roles that make up the rich spectrum of my life.

I know that I can only be my best and offer my best, when I've connected with myself to begin with. Then I can have more to offer to everyone. The problem was that I felt I needed permission to do this. I felt guilty for being what I perceived to be selfish; for needing time on my own.

The longing to spend time on my own came to a boiling point. I realised I needed to take action when I began getting annoyed not only at myself, but at Chris and Zoe for just being themselves, for wanting me to be around and for engaging with me. I felt stretched really thin, that I had nothing to offer them. I started to resent them. It felt like I was steadily moving in a downwards spiral through a dark abyss with heavy weights on my shoulders, pushing me even further down.

I got really upset feeling this way towards the two most important people in my life; and knew that I had to do something about it. So I gave myself permission to be me, to give myself space to spend time on my own and do things I enjoy. I gave myself permission to have fun, relax, explore and find myself again.

I started with doing something small every day. Below is a list of the things I've done over the past couple of weeks that have contributed to making me feel whole again.

• dinner and movie date with myself
• hot stone massage (never had one before, so it also counted as a new experience)
• take shoes off and walk on the beach, wet my feet in the ocean, sit on the sand and play with it
• take a 2-3 hour afternoon nap
• meet my girlfriend for a 1-1 (no kids, no partners) coffee and gossip
• walk through grass barefoot
• date night with Chris (dessert and a movie) to be a couple again
• family Sunday drive along the coast, lunch and drink with dear friends
• bake with love: birthday cake for Zoe and banana bread for the physiotherapists at my rehab program
• nurtured, watered and caressed my potplants, played with the dirt
• went for a walk through the city to see the VIVID Festival with my girlfriend
• personal maintenance (waxing, shaving, exfoliating, moisturing, file and paint nails, new facial cleansing regime) 
• went out for walks around the neighborhood with just Zoe, so we can reconnect and for me to build my confidence up and look after her on my own again

Both my holistic therapist and my physiotherapist had advised me a while back to take time out to do simple things I enjoy....and now I know why: life goes on, so I may as well enjoy it! This is part of my healing process.