Mental health awareness

In my quest for Prince Charming I have encountered a few suitors that have had/have some mental health issues, so this topic is near and dear to me on many levels inclusive of a way I can tie it into this blog. I also have encountered some loved ones, friends, and co-workers that are suffering. These are normal, kind, and good people that through no fault of their own are struggling through a mental battle; whether it anxiety, depression, psychosomatics, psychosis etc. The list of mental health issues is long and perhaps, endless….

There is a stigma surrounding mental health that it’s not something we should talk about openly, or most people don’t want to “burden” others they care about with their problems. Mental health issues are not something that have to be endured alone, and if the issue is important or “big” to you, someone else cares too (my point is, an issue is never “too small” to bother with)… If you know someone who is suffering, reach out to them, let them know they’re not alone and get them in touch with professionals who may help them. If you yourself are suffering, reach out; we are past the times where you “just have to suck it up”, don’t suffer in silence.

Help eachother.

If you’re reading this and residing in Canada, today is Bell’s Let’s Talk Day. Where Bell donates 5 cents to mental health initiatives for every text message or call made from Bell mobile customers, or for every tweet using #BellLetsTalk

Thank you for your time folks.


When you plan to be alone…

I was broaching 30, almost all of my nearest and dearest friends are all loved up/married/with children. Life was moving forward. I had people that were attracted to me, but no real relationship prospects, and this lovely blog that I write in. I was resolved to the fact of being alone; not for lack of wanting, but definitely lack of needing. I was worthy of love, I just hadn’t met someone who appreciated me yet, but I wasn’t about to let that impede on life moving forward, or stopping me from my goals. Even my goal of becoming a mother….

At a family meal; complete with my mother, grandfather, aunts, uncles, and cousins… I had a pre-emptive strike of a bottle of red to my credit before announcing I had something important to ask the family… I stated very matter-of-factly, “I want to have a baby, and how would you all feel if I went about that in perhaps a non-conventional manner?”… What would be awkward for most other families, mine was unfazed. I was met with support, and advice that I would be helped and loved with whatever I decided to do.

It’s an idea I have been considering for quite a few years now (since my divorce), only ever once reconsidering that I may have met someone who wanted to share in this with me (see previous blog post – Chameleons). So when I decided with my age, employment stability and family support to make this decision; it became common knowledge amongst close friends and family that I was in fact researching my options to conceive a child on my own.

Oh to be a fly on the wall during some of the discussions that may have/did ensued. A very close and dear friend, who I would liken to a sister and has given me an honourary “Auntie” title to her children, had a relayed one of those very interesting conversations to me…. Her very smart and inquisitive twin girls were discussing how families began; ideally you find someone you love, get married, have a baby. But the very clever 8 year old girls that they were commented that “you didn’t have to have a husband to have a baby, because their Auntie was still going to have a baby and didn’t have a husband… so how was that to happen?”. My friend, whom is very straight forward and tries to be as honest as possible with her children, tried to explain such a process delicately in a way that an eight year old would understand….”well, Auntie would have to go to a doctor…” she began….Oh to be present when she was grasping for ideas on how to explain AI (artificial insemination) to an eight year old. She was soon saved as one of the girls piped up, “of course she has to go to a doctor!”…The shock of what her children may have already learned at school subsided as my friend gathered her composure to ask, “you know why she would have to go to a doctor and what happens?”… With which she was met with a very matter-of-fact, “she would have to go to a doctor to have sex with him to make a baby, silly”……..Kids say the darndest things!

I often thought about the struggle and hardships bringing a little being into the world on my own would entail…. But I know they would be well loved, well provided for and supported beyond their wildest dreams… I have always known if there was one thing I was put on this earth to do, it was to be a Mom. Being around the other children in my life at times makes me yearn for a wee one of my own…There’s always options….

Apparently I just have to find a doctor, silly… lol

Still learning….

Heart v. Mind

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client though technically an organ that circulates blood through a being, is an entity all of her own. She’s been battered and broken, and is well versed in the art of self first aid; which may perhaps cause some reckless behaviour when it comes to her own safety.

So when the plaintiff, that resides approximately one foot above my client, stated that her actions were perhaps not a good idea at present time, they were met with numerous objections, justifications and nothing consistent other than the following facts/claims:

She found a part of herself in another, which she had never thought possible.

Her old wounds and scars ached less in the presence of this other.

She wanted to dress his wounds and help him heal his own brokenness.

She glowed and was vibrant again.

He held her, despite the ugliness of some of her scars.

He looked at her in such a way as if she was something to study and be in awe of.

She loved his imperfectness, perfectly.

The plaintiff argued the timing was wrong, the other was too newly broken, it was too soon, and there were challenges; and while my client agreed completely and totally, when she tried to refrain it felt as if she was cutting off her own breath. My client tried to stifle her breath and live differently, sadly, regretting, and missing a possibility; all for the sake of timing, and this appeased the plaintiff briefly.

The defence (my client), will state to you today, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that you will judge her and that is alright. She has battled the plaintiff, and has considered his pleas. She has worked jointly with the plaintiff to consider all possible outcomes and all aspects that may be involved. But she stands before you to say : life is too short, and we don’t know what tomorrow will bring; please don’t begrudge me the possibility of happiness.

The defence rests…..

Still learning….

5 Truths You Have to Accept Before Your Second Marriage

Excellent advice… Everyone that gets into a relationship after a divorce should read this…. (including me, for when Prince Charming arrives)…
It’s so hard not to take out someone else’s mistakes on your current partner for fear of being wounded again.
Thank you for writing this, so many need to read this….

Lessons From the End of a Marriage

Your Baggage is Your Problem

It’s always nice when someone offers to carry our bags for us. There’s a relief that comes from shifting that burden; a sense of freedom when the weight is lifted. But when it comes to relationships, your baggage is your problem. Whether you have residual anger that flares when provoked, fear of betrayal or abandonment or irrational overreactions from triggers buried in your past, it is up to you to address them.


No Pining Allowed

It’s natural to miss your ex at times. Perhaps they had traits your new partner lacks or maybe you shared a different connection. Watch those thoughts. If you are yearning for your past, you will miss your present. Whatever was is over. Be where you are.

You Must Perfect the Art of Compromise

Marriages that occur later in life can be more complicated, as two full and separate worlds…

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The End

You know, I couldn’t even tell you what the argument was about, I honestly couldn’t. At that point, he was at the height of his depression and self medicating regime and I was fed up to the point that I fought back when provoked instead of just letting it go with the thought “he’s having a rough time, he’s sick and doesn’t meant it”.

We were driving home from his mother’s house, both seething, the tension in the car was palpable. “You’re such a dumb cunt, I really don’t know why I’m with you”. My first thought to cross my mind was “he’s lucky he’s driving, I would smack him across the face for that”. I remember the anger that day, I’ve never had it recreated. But the man I loved and took vows with just called me a derogatory name and inspired a thought of violence; there’s something wrong here.
“I don’t even know if I want children anymore”… I asked him what he meant, thinking I had misheard him. One of our common goals as husband and wife, what we worked toward, why I stuck around to try and help him as long as I did, why I kept our marriage on life support; was just dashed in that moment. In that moment the glue that was holding my battered heart together, gave. My shoulders heaved with two heavy sobs as silent tears rolled down my face..For those that know me, when I am upset/angry, I don’t tend to yell, I am quite efficient with my words and don’t require more audibility to get my point across. But that day, in the confines of our little Pontiac, I screamed… Every hurt that I’d been holding in, every injustice, every argument; I let out in a matter of minutes. I screamed until I hurt and could barely speak from the hoarseness of throat… “Then why am I even bothering?! I’ve been patient!.. I’ve tried to help!.. I’ve been a good wife!.. and now this is what I’m getting?! Why are we doing this?!!!”… I then sat in silence the remainder of the car ride home.

During the roller coaster my marriage had become in the end, there was a pattern in our final months together; a fight, he’d threaten to leave, a teary argument from me, he’d say “maybe we should get a divorce”, I’d beg him not to go outlining everything we could do to work on the marriage (or what I would do, as if I had to convince him I was worth staying with), he’d leave our home for a few hours, he’d come back, we would both apologize (regardless of whom was wrong), and go about our daily routine and living our separate lives under the same roof……

That day when we got home, the pattern attempted one final repetition. “I think we should get a divorce”, he scowled at me shortly after we got in the door. “Fine”, I was defeated. He said he was leaving, huffing around our apartment and throwing things in a duffle bag, “he meant it this time”… I sat quietly and just stared at the wall. Accepting a dream was crushed; even though throughout the last year things were slowly dying, I still held onto hope, love would get us through; that day I accepted that The Beatles were wrong, love isn’t all you need. He prolonged physically leaving our apartment as much as possible, even saying he needed to have a quick shower before leaving as he wasn’t sure where he was going or for how long. When I heard the water of the shower start, I came out of my catatonia to get up from my spot on the couch go into his jacket pockets and retrieve the key to the apartment. I then wrote a quick note stating that “he was leaving and withdrew his interest from the rental agreement to this apartment on this date” (thank God we were only renting at the time, things could’ve been worse); I had this ready for him before his departure from the apartment. No more games, no more psychological warfare; if he was leaving, he was REALLY leaving. I advised him I had his key, and if he was really leaving, he should have no problem signing this and to let me know when he’d like to pick up the rest of his things, I’m a reasonable woman and wanted this to go as smoothly as possible. He angrily signed the paper and left, he was pissed that I even thought to do anything like that I think.

A couple hours later there was a knock at the door, “I’m sorry” he said when I opened the door. I let him come in and we sat down in our living room, opposite sides of the couch, just looking at eachother. “I’m sorry too… this is done… I want a divorce”….

As said, I can’t even remember what the final argument was that brought our ending marriage to a head.. But I remember every emotion, every detail of the final words/actions, I can even recall the sensory memory of how much my throat ached from screaming….All this recalled from about this time of year….. Five years ago.

I’ve moved past my marrage, obviously… You’ve read some of my attempts, my lessons, my successes, and my failures at this… I’ve learned valuable lessons about how I act in relationships, what I want from my relationships, how to communicate in my relationships, and what I don’t want. My marriage showed me alot about myself, and it took quite a while to view it as a positive.

My life has continued, I’ve continued to grow, and the hurt has even faded…But I’m afraid the hurt never goes away completely, you just learn to refocus on the positives in life and the new opportunities while setting aside the ebb of slight ache in that part of your heart.

I still remember the end.

Still learning….


Please help and show support for a brilliant blogger who is the epitomy of “freedom of speech”.. Such a helpful and honest person… This news saddens me…

Don Charisma


It’s recently come to my attention then a friend and fellow blogger has been permanently BANNED from Cushman’s blog HarsH ReaLiTy is going to be closed down shortly, which is a very sad end to an era of Jason doing so much for the WordPress community, and bringing NEW and PROGRESSIVE ideas into blogging. He is in blogging terms CHARISMA PERSONIFIED. Jason had this to say :

All blogging advice articles will be removed within 24 hours. The meet and greet threads will be removed by the end of next week. I appreciate everyone that has supported this website. –OM

Jason and I first came into contact when he invited me to join his “Project O”. I was pretty new to blogging at the time, and didn’t…

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