Let’s talk – no really…let’s talk

When I was in the eighth grade, I would visit a guidance counselor at school because I was chubby and even though I had lots of friends, I was sad about my weight, feeling inferior to my skinny peers. 

While in high school, I saw Ms. D on a regular basis, also my guidance counselor, to talk about school, home, friends, relationships and what the heck I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

After graduating from high school, I felt strong and confidant, ready to take on University, and while there was some hard times, I didn’t seek therapy the whole four years I was there – I didn’t feel I needed it. 

Some people don’t believe in therapy – they think it’s for people who are really messed up, or that the Doctor just prescribes medication and BOOM you are all healed.  They don’t know.  They can’t understand because they are closed-minded to the importance of an unbiased ear. 

I believe in therapy, for me, I should say.  When GBF and I broke up and my “future” came to a crashing halt, I knew I would require the help of a therapist to be okay.  I felt weak; I am okay with saying that.  I went on a light dose of medication to calm my scorching panic attacks.  Suicide was not something I could ever see me resulting to, however without someone to talk to, you never know; it could have gone either way.  I went through weekly therapy sessions for months, hashing out what happened, what went wrong and how to start healing my own heart, not depending on others to heal it for me. 

Since my father’s passing one month ago (wow, I cannot believe he has been gone a month) I knew that therapy would probably be required again, but I have been lazy about it.  There has been so much work to do lately that I have ignored that nagging feeling at the side of my brain that I am not okay.  There has been so much loss in the past three years of my life that I know; once again, I need someone to talk to.  Someone who is not family or a close personal friend, but someone who is trained and professional and will give me strategies and tools to accept my fate and move forward with my life. 

I will be calling today to book an appointment.  I don’t want to wait too long.  No one should wait too long.  Why suffer, when you don’t have to?  At times, I feel like I need the suffering, I need the pain to remind me that this is all real, that he is gone, but I know in my heart he never would want me to feel this way (though I also know he knew this is exactly how I would feel and that’s why he held out so long). My Public Service Announcement for today is this: if you or someone you know is suffering or hurting, get them to talk to someone, a professional who can take care of you or your loved one.  Please.  

XOXO Nikilee

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Keeping up

Keeping busy, occupied, is the answer.  The question: how do you move past the passing of your most loved loved one? 

It’s not the right answer – I know that.  Anyone knows that.  However, when time doesn’t permit you to heal, when you have a job, you don’t have time to heal properly.  I don’t have real time to grieve.  I need to be at work – focused.  So I keep busy.  With work and friends and my new dog, my days are full.   My life is full.  

My heart is another story.  It is empty; there is a large gaping wound where the love for my father once sat comfortably.   I am angry with the world, angry that he left to soon, angry that his last few years were not kind to him, angry that he died alone, not holding my hand the way he would have been there to hold mine. 

I know it’s not my fault, in my heart – I know that.  But I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye, I didn’t get to make him giggle one last time – he didn’t get to see my biggest dream come true (more on that another day) and that makes me angry.  I am sure at some point, grief counseling will come, because I cannot be angry forever – forever is not necessarily a long time – and I want to live my life the way my dad would have wanted me to, happy, cheerful, social and spontaneous, the way I lived it before, before he passed away, before he got sick, before he was taken from me, my brother, my sister-in-law, his grandchildren and his cousin. 

Before. 

XOXO Nikilee

I hate this week

The three white walls, with the hideous flowered curtain making a fourth, stare back at me silently, mocking me at every turn.  The smell of disinfectant and sickness make me nauseous and I want to cry, I want to scream. The beeping of the machines telling me something, but I am not sure what, is increasing the pressure in my head.  I am back in the hospital.  My father is ill, how ill, I don’t yet know, but the blood stained walls and floors at my house tell me something can’t be right.

Wednesday was a long day for me bloggers.  My father called me at work (always a key sign something is wrong – seriously wrong), by the time I got home he was dizzy and lying on the floor.  911 was called immediately.  It turns out a bleeding ulcer, is just that – it bleeds and causes quite the mess in your system (and my home).  The nurses and doctors made him comfortable after he was taken to Scarborough General Hospital and a blood bag was brought in for an infusion.  He’s had three more since then. 

Having donated blood numerous times in the past (being denied last time in April because of my tattoo) I have never been so grateful to those who take their time to donate their fresh clean blood.  It stabilized my father; it has saved my brother’s life in the past and countless others.  I will be donating again as soon as possible, and I hope – and pray – that everyone reading this will take time out this weekend or next to attend a donation centre – it doesn’t take long and the reward (saving lives) is priceless. 

My dad is doing better – they have scoped his stomach and we are waiting for the results.  Every minute and hour that passes by where he is okay brings me hope that he will come home soon and be back where he belongs.  Those who know me know my father is the most important person in my life.  He is my support, my hero, my daddy.  The house, without him in it, is empty, quiet and unfamiliar.  I don’t like it.  His creaking floor boards are a soothing sound, now I just lie in bed, trying to control my panic, my anxiety knowing that I have to keep my mind and body stress free.  Things are changing in my life, drastic changes.  This website – soon will be coming to an end, another taking its place.  More details to come, I promise. 

For now, I must stand up straight, be brave and strong and get through the next few days. 

XOXO Nikilee

A day is just a day…really it is.

So yesterday (Valentines Day) was a normal, yet happy day for me.  Work was good, no major troubles, lots of texting, which I know is so wrong, but I CAN NOT HELP IT.  I just can’t stop yet so I hope none of my co-workers hate me for it!?

After work I had therapy, which was intense and made me do a lot of thinking.  I need to start taking control of my life and my future, but really, I am in limbo right now and I plan on going nowhere soon so I will just have to deal with my rollercoaster of emotions until a move is made!  My Valentines date was with one of my absolute favourite people in the world – crazy cat lady!  LOL…she will kill me is she reads this and finds out I call her that…shhh don’t tell.  I spent part of my evening with her and her dad just relaxing, teasing each other (if we were American he would be VERY republican and I would be VERY democratic so I try not to debate him…it could get ugly).  Watching crazy cat lady with her dad reminds me of the relationship I have with my dad.  He raised her, mine raised me.  Though in reality – we took/take care of them! 

After leaving her house, I headed to the finale of my Valentines date night with my dad.  We watched part of Biggest Loser, but I knew I had one more thing I had to do.  I called my mom.  My mom is going through a really rough time right now.  Her boyfriend has throat cancer and so far – it does not look good.  I am debating about going up to Bobcaygeon to help out for a couple of days.  Even just to be there to keep them company.  Now my relationship with both of them has been strained, never a solid, great relationship by any means, but I do love my mother and I don’t like people I care about hurting.  I also tend to not be the most compassionate person with her, as I am more concerned that when he does pass away that she is taken care of…that things are in order.  She assures me they are.  I hope so.  We had a really nice talk though.  Probably the longest one we have had in months, if not years. 

After showering and talking to GBF (totally teased him for not buying me flowers this year – I mean last year he did…remember my blog on it!!  We were in a crap place last year, I hated so much of him and he bought me flowers!  This year we are friends, we are in a much better place, and I get nothing!  LOL…next year if I am single I will pick a fight with him to ensure I get something!)  I passed out cold…only to be woken up by a crazy nightmare where I was in some foreign country and working in a brothel – not as the woman who sleeps with people, but as security (ya who the hell am I supposed to secure???)…and people were getting killed and raped and I have no idea what brought on such foolishness, but it kept me awake wishing I could call…nah I won’t say…but I did wanna call someone and calm myself down.  Why do my dreams have to be so freaking real???  Ridiculous! 

All in all, today should hopefully be a wonderful day.  See if my plans stick, see if work goes well – see what client’s bring me today…have a wonderful hump day everyone

XOXO Nikilee