Day 49: Stress eating my way through unemployment.

Stress eating is a real issue for me. I’m sad to even say that out loud. When I get stressed I start to eat. And when I start eating, I don’t stop.

Last night I ate an entire bag of fuzzy peach candies at 2 am. Why? I can’t tell you why as I don’t even know myself.

After I was unceremoniously fired on New Year’s Eve, I remember going home and eating an entire pie. The feeling of stress that I felt that day hasn’t really gone away, or even lessened for that matter. I would say that, if anything, it’s increased.

On paper I have an extremely strong resume. In person I am an even stronger candidate. Somehow, though, I can’t seem to figure this job market out. And I’m noticing that I really like to stress eat. Most times not even realizing that I am doing so.

My mom, bless her heart is going through chemotherapy treatments right now, has been continually trying to pump up my mood, every day. Every day. I do have some incredibly loving and wonderful people in my life. I do. And when I am around them, it’s a welcome distraction and what I need to keep myself moving forward.

Those moments when I am alone, though… those are the moments I don’t trust myself. Those are the moments when the stress eating happens.

I wish that I could retrain my psyche to tell me I need to spend 5 hours in the gym every time I get stressed. I wish I could retrain my mind to stop reaching for food. Oh, we’re all a little flawed somehow. Me, I have no will power. When things go wrong, I reach for food.

It’s not good. I know. I’ve been lectured on it enough in my life. But hey, at least it’s not cocaine or something stupid like that. That’s all I’m telling myself for now. At least until life calms down a little…. until my mom’s cancer is in remission, until I’m a member of the working class once again… until I can wake up in the morning and be excited for the day ahead.

For now, in the words of Dory, I ‘just keep swimming’.

The struggle is real today.

Every time that I let my mind fall blank for a moment… every time… I am overcome with anxious thoughts, an anxious heart and an extremely anxious soul.

I can’t control my thoughts.

I can’t.

I’ve had two clonazepams today and my heart is still racing. This is the feeling I wish that I could explain to those that don’t struggle with anxiety. This is what I wish they could understand. Nothing needs to be overly wrong, it’s just… some days are worse than others. Some days it’s harder to leave your room. Some days it’s all you can do to just be alive.

I know this. I do. And I know that if I jut give myself some time I will eventually calm down. At least I hope that I will. But for the time being, I need a distraction. I need something to put my mind towards. I need a project. I need to make myself busy so that my mind doesn’t have time to get the better of me.

Any suggestions?

Pet Peeve: “Don’t be such a girl” and so on and so forth.

It makes me angry when I hear people say things like “don’t be such a girl” or “you fight like a girl” or “you throw like a girl”. As a female it gets thrown your direction so dang much that eventually you just start to believe that being female is a bad thing. You just accept it. You know what it means and you don’t argue with it because arguing would take far too much time and effort on someone who doesn’t want to understand.

I am a girl. I have a short stature, and long hair, curvy hips and small hands. I’m proud to be a girl. I do fight like a girl – because I am a girl. Fighting like a girl doesn’t mean that I’m a bad fighter, or that I’m weak, or that I’m incompetent. I’m extremely competent and if it came down to a physical fight I could hold my own with many men. 

I do throw like a girl. It might not be as far as my male counterparts, but that doesn’t stop me from sinking baskets, or clinching that out at home plate. It doesn’t stop me from hitting the waste basket EVERY…SINGLE…TIME.

Being a girl is not a bad thing. It pisses me off when people throw it around as though it’s an insult. Just because I was born female does not mean that I am slower, dumber, weaker and not as good as a man. I make my own money, I pay my own bills, I work, I work out, I fix broken pipes, change flat tires, lift heavy boxes, and can turn around and put on a dress and heels after it’s all done.

I am not weak. And being who I am is not less than anyone else in this world. 

Being female is not a bad thing. It’s not a weak thing. It’s not something that we should be ashamed of, sad about, or made to feel as though we’re not good enough when a man wants to put down another man. And women do it to, don’t get me wrong. I would say that infuriates me even more – when women say it to one another. I just want to hold a playback button to their ears and ask ‘do you her yourself right now?’

As a gender, we should not be treated as though we’re lesser than because we don’t grow up to play in the NBA. ‘You throw like a girl’ is not an insult and should not be used as such. ‘Don’t be such a pussy’ should never be used as a means to make someone look weak.

Firstly, do you really need to insult this person? Could your efforts be put forth to something more positive? Secondly, if your insulting someone is coming at the cost of degrading or demeaning an entire gender then you need to work on your insults. Tearing other people down is not a way to get your point across.

You know what, save the insults all together. When your girlfriend beats you in an arm wrestle, I hope you’re proud of her. When you’re daughter hits a home-run at bat, I hope you’re extremely proud of her. If you really, genuinely, must make reference to someone you know as being weak, just use the term weak. That’s it. Nothing more. Leave women and girls out of it.

Let us throw how we want to throw and live how we want to live. The world is a much nicer place when we’re not verbally or physically beating up on one another for the gender which we’re born into.

Travel Diaries: Ice Magic Festival of Lake Louise

When you grow up in Canada, one of the things you hear about every year is the Ice Magic Festival of Lake Louise. That and also that Niagara Falls is a must see in your lifetime. For me, though I’d lived within driving distance of Lake Louise for almost my entire life, I’d never actually been to the festival.

I love Lake Louise, and try to visit several times a year, but I’d never managed to make it in late January/early February when the Ice Magic Festival is taking place.

Fast forward to 2019 and the year that I’m making things happen. Knight and I decided to take the weekend to see the Festival. It was supposed to be bitterly cold, but I convinced him to come anyways, knowing that the colder it was, the less tourists there would be out.

We began at a little bakery in Lake Louise called Laggan’s Mountain Bakery. This place had a line up that was almost out the door. The Baked Goods were delectable. As someone who eats strictly gluten free (Celiac Disease) finding gluten-free baked goods in a tiny little town in the mountains was quite a score. I ended up picking up a few, eating one then and saving the rest for home.

To the lake we went.

Despite my best hopes, there were still quite a few tourists out to bare the blistery -31 degree weather. I guess they, like me, decided it was still worth it, no matter how cold.

It had snowed quite a bit since the sculptures were made, but I still made my way around the lake to try and make out what each of the sculptures were. Some of them were difficult to tell due to the sun being behind the mountains and the snow having fallen. Even still, it really amazes the talent people have to create such intricate statues and sculptures out of ice.

Though it was tempting, we decided to not stop at the Ice Bar and opted to wander into the hotel to shop and warm up. There’s so much history in the Fairmont Lake Louise, wandering the halls just makes you feel as though it could be filled with ghosts of guests past.

There’s a gorgeous restaurant inside the hotel that overlooks the lake, the festival and the mountains in the background. It might be a little too rich for my blood, though. So, after checking out the sights of inside, we made our way back out to the lake. My desire was to walk far enough onto the lake that I could get a photo without anyone in the background.

Saying that you’re walking out to the middle of the lake is a weird thing to speak. But when you get there the view is so, so, so very much worthwhile.

About a third of the lake was plowed from what I could see. A portion was arranged for public skating (I wish I had brought my skates) a portion was arranged for playing hockey (it is as picture perfect as the photos showcase) and a portion was arranged for cross country skiing. Basically, it’s an outdoor lover’s dream.


To me, Lake Louise is the prettiest place on earth. It really is. Of all the places that I’ve ever been, my heart always comes back to Lake Louise and those incredible mountains shadowing over the picturesque lake, the forests, the animals, the majestic world that is the Rocky Mountains.

It was a perfect day… a picture perfect day wandering the festival, eating incredible food, watching the tourists in awe of how much snow there was.

There’s something I used to tell my friends a lot, that still stands true to this day. If ever I lose my way, that’s where you’ll find me – the tiny little town in the mountains. The place where everything’s good and everyone knows everyone. To me, that will always be Lake Louise.

Tired and uninspired.

2019 has been kicking my ass. That’s become a phrase that I’m using a lot this year. At 1.5 months into this year, I’m wondering where the time went while also wondering why everything is going so slowly.

This just in – I am still unemployed. And it’s not for lack of trying. I even had a professional writer take a look at my resume to tell me what was wrong with it. It’s good. Trust me, it’s good. Somehow though, that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I have ten years experience, a degree, or anything that’s listed on my resume. I am just another one of the bunch. And since the bunch is plentiful, here I am… serving as the token unemployed millennial. Such a stereotype. Such I am.

In other news, my mother’s chemotherapy has been delayed. The poor woman seems to be allergic to just about everything, so, I guess the doctor’s are hesitant to completely destroy her immune system until they know that she’s not going to adversely react to the medications she’s required to take through the process. Knowing that this process is being prolonged is affecting my anxiety in copious amounts. It’s hard enough to have to watch your mom go through something like this, but it’s getting harder knowing that it’s so much more complicated than we originally thought it would be.

I’m still homeless. It’s been difficult. Though I’ve lasted 12 days at this point so I am pretty proud of myself for that. I find myself missing simple things… like being able to open the cupboard and see exactly what I want to eat in there… or being able to leave the dishes in the sink and wash them later. Or just sitting down on my own couch. Things are just things, I am aware of this. I am now realizing though just how much comfort some of these things can bring… especially when you might just be in a frail state yourself (and not wanting to admit to it).

I have a CT-Scan booked for Saturday. I was quite amazed that I actually got it booked so quickly. Hopefully though, they’ll be able to see what’s really going on inside of my head and provide me some relief to this constant pressure in my face. The doctor thinks it’s internal damage from a broken nose, but needs a CT-Scan to see the extent of the damage. I guess we’ll find out on Saturday. As if there wasn’t enough to worry about in my life already…

To take a moment and talk about the bonuses – Knight and I travelled to Lake Louise to see the Ice Magic Festival this past weekend. It was magical, and everything I’d ever wanted it to be. I’ve had dreams of seeing it since I was a kid, so being able to be there and see it up close and personal was a pretty big check off my bucket-list.

Here’s to trying to see the positives through all the mess.

And self-care. Self care is very important.

Honestly, remember:

Even the prettiest people feel ugly at times, the happiest people feel the need to cry themselves to sleep at night and the most independent people feel alone… whether they admit it or not.

As much as we all might lead different lives, we all deal with the same demons. The best thing you can do for yourself, and for everyone else for that matter, is to remember that we’re all dealing with the same demons. Compassion and people skills go a long way in this crazy crazy world.

You just never know.

When you’re suffering from mental illness or struggling from mental issues, it’s easy to think you’re the only one in the world who feels the way that you feel. I know because I do that. I’ve done that. There’s something about the human condition that forces us to keep the negative in our lives bottled up, eating away at our happiness, little by little, day after day.

I don’t understand it.

This past week has been eye opening for me in that I’ve been able to realize I’m not alone. Both my best friend and my sister have mentioned to me they take medication for anxiety.

I know that it’s incredibly naive of me to say that I thought I was the only one, but that’s how I thought. I thought I was the only one. I was hard-wired to believe that I was the only one who couldn’t handle it. ‘IT’ being the proverbial shit-storm that’s been running through my head.

I’m not alone, though. I’m not. And while I don’t like thinking about the people in my life struggling in a way that I understand all too well, it makes me feel better to know that I’m not alone, and, that we can talk about it. We can talk about it.

And being able to talk about it make’s me feel a little bit more like it’s not winning. Like it’s not going to get the best of me. Like there’s room to fight back.