Tag: winter blues

Is Surviving A Testament Of Strength?

A Girl In A Complex World

I ventured outside today. Not because I wanted to though. The last thing I wanted to do was put a coat and boots on to go walk around in the snow. I went out because I needed to. I’ve barely moved from the couch in 3 days. This year is not off to a good start.



First, we had the first-ever earthquake here in Central Newfoundland. Very minor. But there has never been an earthquake here. Then we had a major 3-day storm. Our driveway was washed out and our roof had some damage. Thankfully it was minor. Then I ended up spending 9 hours in the ER, for dehydration.

Through all of that, I’ve been struggling just to keep breathing. CPTSD has been kicking my ass. Between the paralyzing panic attacks, nightmares, disordered eating (restricting, binging, purging), chronic pain, and insomnia every breath I take requires effort. Putting in effort takes energy, and energy is something I have very little of. Or maybe it’s just a lack of drive or willpower. Either way, I don’t have much of anything right now.



But today I managed to tap into something inside of me that gave me a little boost. I was wiping away tears as I was putting my boots on. The dogs were so excited to have mom play ball with them. They’ve really been feeling the effects of what I’m going through and that has created such a massive amount of guilt for me. I try and tell myself that I really am doing the best that I can right now but it feels so fake.

The fresh air was amazing though. The sound of the waves along the shore was incredibly comforting. I miss walking there with the dogs. Another reason I dislike winter so much. When I get cold it triggers my CRPS and sometimes I’m in pain for several days after. It’s frustrating. Especially when more than half of the year is cold here in Newfoundland. So outdoor activity is quite limited. It’s a big factor in the decline of my mental health once the fall months are upon us.

Today the cool air was welcomed. It wasn’t windy, which made it much more manageable. It was as if by breathing it in I was bringing back a little glimmer of life. It even energized me enough to later vacuum, sweep, and mop through the house.

It was discouraging though to find myself standing in the middle of the room, on 3 separate occasions, completely dissociated, and I had to check my phone to see what time it was. Everything has just been so surreal. Over the last year, 40 years of trauma decided to all come flooding back at once, at times leaving me completely incapacitated. It’s been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. I’ve shed more tears these past few months than I have my entire life.

So yeah. It’s been tough. But I guess surviving all of this is a testament to my strength? Maybe. I dunno. But I do know that growth doesn’t always look like success. Sometimes growth involves holding on when everything just feels so damn heavy. At least for me, it does.

The old me would have given up long ago.

Holiday Blues

A Girl In A Complex World

          Christmas was … different … this year. I usually enjoy the overall feeling of the season but its like that christmassy feeling was non-existent this year. I don’t know if its because I was in the hospital or maybe its because my pain level has been so high, but December month brought a lot of sadness.


          A different kind of sadness though. The kind where it felt as if my heart was literally aching. I found myself frequently holding back tears. There’s been such a deep yearning in my soul. A longing for things I dont have and can’t do. Its the kind of sadness that comes with grieving for a lost loved one, wishing you could have just 5 more minutes with them. Except no one has died. It’s a sadness that reaches right down to my core.


          All the hype about the holidays portrays big, happy families gathered around each other, enjoying lots of food and presents, baking cookies, decorating trees together, small children full of excitement, couples building snowmen and having snowball fights, shopping and buying all sorts of things, and so on. All the images say we should be happy. But what about those who have no family near them and they have very small social circles? Or those who are unemployed and can’t afford to buy things for anyone outside of their immediate family? What about couples going through a divorce? Or those in abusive relationships and live in fear of saying the wrong thing? And, what about those who are not able to have children of their own?

Enjoying some quality time with my good friend’s kidlettes ♡


          David and I went to this one particular event together. A community dinner served by the Evangel Pentecostal Church that was followed by a selection of musical performances. There was another family at our table with their 5 year old little girl and she became the highlight of our night. The joy just emanated from her. She was wearing an adorable red dress, her hair in pig tails, complete with red bows. She was so happy, so excited, so … innocent. 

(Stock photo)

I had a lump in my throat the whole evening, making it very hard to swallow my meal. Santa came and called the kids up front and she was just vibrating with excitement. We watched her as she went up and as she looked over at her mom, waving as they took her picture, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. It felt like my heart was just shattering inside my chest. I had to excuse myself and blindly made my way to the bathroom, where I covered my mouth and spent a good 5 minutes sobbing, silently. After touching up my make up I went back to the table and sipped coffee as if nothing had ever happened.

I wear the mask quite well.


          Sometimes infertility hits ppl at the most random times and this christmas was one of those times for me. I feel like I have to keep it to myself because I know David deals with a lot of guilt about not being able to give me a child of our own. If he was to see me during these moments it would just make it much worse for him and I don’t want that. Except I also don’t like how isolating this is. I wish I knew how to turn this into something we could go through together. I wish I could let myself be vulnerable and let my own husband see those hurting parts of me. Except I retreat into my shell and hide … the only thing I’m actually good at.