Bio Moment – “Don’t speak about *that*”

TW: Depression, anxiety, and language

After almost five years here, I have learned a thing or three. One of the things I have learned … is a double-edged sword.

And actually, it goes back further than this blog. In fact, it goes back to before blogging was a thing.

As far back as I can remember.

I’ve always been the person you see in front of you.


I wasn’t always visible… and by that I mean… I hid some (most or all) of myself.

As a teenager, it was as simple as hiding behind my bedroom walls. Or my family, my fat, my humor.

There was, thankfully, plenty to hide behind.

Later, it was my marriage, my children, my religious beliefs. Oh, and that last one was legion! I spent many, many years claiming beliefs that set me apart, as the Bible (and the preacher) said I should.

In all those years, I was never NOT honest… and by that I mean… I didn’t outright lie. At least, not about the things that mattered. Oh, wait. That’s not true. There was a time in the late 90s/ early 2000s that I lied. A lot. Mostly to myself. The story of those times is all over this blog if one wants to find it. But I digress.

The last twenty years have been my most transparent… and by that I mean… to everyone, including myself.

And yet…

If you’ve been reading me for any length of time, you will see that I go through cyclic patterns of reading, writing, gratitude, grief, joy, depression, anxiety, and self-loathing.

It will come as no surprise to you to know that I am in a down-trend right now, between the winter that never ends, attempting to get off my depression meds, nursing a sinus infection, and a temporary work schedule that threw me for a loop.

Do we dare mention the world’s problems? The scary-ass, crazy, violent, heart-wrenching problems? It… is… all… so… horrifying.

One page of the govt of Canada travel website

At the same time, I’ve been trying to solidify some travel plans that keep slapping me around for all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with me — from the price of tickets raising hourly (ostensively due to gas prices), other’s plans that need to be worked around, and Canada’s lagging Covid restrictions that add an extra level of anxiety. (Just the thought of where I’ll go to get a PCR test before returning home is enough to send me in a tizzy!)

Travel has become a VERY stressful issue for me.

Through the good, bad, and life-changing events of life, I have paid my own way “home” whenever possible. When I couldn’t, which happened fairly often in the first few years I was here especially, I was blessed to have been flown in. My family, including my ex-husband, was very generous.

Sometimes, I wish my family would come to me. The reasons they haven’t range from being unable or unwilling to travel, for reasons I understand (and honestly, some I don’t). My youngest daughter came once and actually plans to come again this year with my grandson. I hope it happens!!

So, travel plans begat travel thoughts and wishes about the past… and what could have been, might have been… should have been? Woulda/Coulda/Shoulda <<< What a waste of time!

Guilt and shame raise their ugly heads.

People ask me how I can still feel guilty about moving all these years later.

I try so hard to rise above it…

But, hey…

This is what triggers DO.

One thing leads to another leads to another and before you know it, I am a depressed mess feeling like I fucked up everyone’s life, including my sweet husband and our cats. Don’t even ask me about my kids, my ex, our pets…

I then go to…

Guess I was more important than I thought I was. There, I mean. Not from here. Nope, never from here.

Oh, and fun fact…

Then I loped into a whole ‘nuther life that wasn’t mine to … uh… lope into. I never talk about what’s happened here – the utter suffering we endured along with some other very important people. Maybe one day. Not today.

Listen, we all know guilt, shame and depression exist. We know that none of them make a lick of sense. We know they LIE.

Tell that to my heart. My gut. My pain.

Oh, and everyone I hurt. Tell them. Okay?

To be clear: I wouldn’t trade loving my husband – and his loving me – for anything. It’s clear by the choices I made then and continue to make. I am here to stay.

But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

I’ve so often said that I wish I had a thread to pull the west and east coast together. Then, I could just pop over for a visit. Be there for a funeral. Take a walk with my best friend of 50 years.

But none of those things is possible.

Will I ever be able to change what IS?


And that sucks.

So, friends and readers, this is why I haven’t been around to read and write. The Whisperer is whispering as many soothing thoughts as possible into her pretty little head… and it’s not working.

Is this the best thing to talk about on a site devoted to self-help? Probably not.

(Except, as I always say, it proves we’re all human and struggle. You are not alone!)

I’m not going to hide behind this blog and pretend everything is okay when it clearly is NOT.

Yes, things will get better.

There will be fabulous self-help books and other stuff soon.

I will take pictures from my forest in the spring.

I will walk and share my journey.

But right now?

This is my reality. I’m sorry.


  1. Take your time. We all have some demons with which we must reckon. In the long run, you will win out and be stronger. Not tomorrow. But in time. God bless.

    Liked by 1 person

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