Tag: mental health

It’s Just Another Day…

kidtrishLeave a comment

Is it really though? Today is my birthday. It is not just another day, well, at least not from where I am sitting. My birthday is what New’s Year Day is to everybody else. I never make resolutions in January but every July I come up with a greatest hits list of things I NEED to do, things I haven’t done, and lest I forget I question my size usually followed with a promise to myself to try harder to be magazine slim and perfect. Life has given me bigger fish to fry this round. I blew out my right knee while having a lunch with my hubby, at work, no less. I mean WTF, nice way to show your age Bertha. Surprise! in case, you haven’t heard I am a woman of a certain age…code speak for heads up things are going to start to shrivel up, become painful or just stop working the way they used to, like my eyesight or my bladder, or my sense of humor.

Somewhere in the expanse of 2024 I just stopped. I stopped torturing myself over things I cannot change or control. Funny now when I think about it. Was this the precursor to my knee giving up? I stopped going on Fb, too many people “putting” their mirror selves out there. NO ONE’s life is that perfect Janet, so just stop, get some therapy, actually live the moments of your life instead of setting up the next great shot. I embrace the fact that when I am stressed out, I DOOM SCROLL Instagram or FB reels… BUT why? just why? I can’t even say it’s just background noise because it isn’t. It lulls me into a nonfeeling calmness? Most days I don’t allow myself to get sucked into that vortex, but I am human. One of my recent goals to not bother them so they won’t bother me. Snake oil salesmen most of the lot. If there really was a cure for meno belly which required ZERO EFFORT on my part, it would be owned by a conglomerate which would buy continuous airtime and Drs. would be pushing that shit like lollipops on a Sunday.

I used to watch ‘The Real Housewives of …” pick one from the franchise. It is the same script over and over, self-absorbed rich women, some have no grey matter of their own (brains), someone is always married to a rich old fop, someone is always: the saint, the sinner, the slut, the mean girl. They are all collectively beautiful and near body perfect. I don’t know about the rest of you but there are plenty of REAL housewives making it on their own, curvy, smartass women you want to hang with. Yes, we all know that there are housewives amongst us that also fit the criteria (SEE ABOVE : the saint…) but our beauty most definitely lies elsewhere. Sorry, sorry see? a gal’s mind also wanders at this point in life. Where was I? oh, yeah, my knee.

Time travel exists only in my mind’s eye. Picture it, January 13, 2005, a terrible mix precipitation hits Worcester County. The roads are icy, but my place of employment has not called off work. Hubby and I trudge off to work only for me to slip in the parking lot at my JOB. I fly through the air. My left leg kicks out in front of me; I fall to the ground leg already broken. I heard it snap. Imagine a pencil you force with your hands to bend until it snaps. Yup. It hurt like hell. I am pretty sure anyone within a half mile radius heard me scream F^*K. I nearly passed out, but I was also angry. I am pretty sure I was adrenalized out to the max so there’s that. I was non weight bearing on my left leg for 10 months. In 2005 I weighed in at about 325-340 lbs. range. Whole lot of PLUS SIZE girlie to balance on one leg. Fast forward to 2025, in my lifetime I have gone both up and down on the scale, I am currently in the 220 range. Yes, I know still too much but I am done chasing a dream that never belonged to me. I am beautiful. I am enough. I am LOVED. I am more than a number on a scale. Why do I bring this up you ask? Hold on I am getting there.

After a few solid weeks of me trying to ignore my leg hoping that things would improve I had to see my primary about the pain and the swelling. X-rays tell this story of a knee that has seen too much and suffered a lot. There is no ice it and go. I need a full replacement. I went to the bone and joint clinic at Memorial Hospital. A very handsome physician’s assistant withdrew fluid from my knee, gave me a cortisone/Lidocaine super shot, told me I was fat without saying it that way and I am too young for a knee replacement. All without ever looking at my history. Really? Of course, I schooled him. I asked him point blank if he even bothered to look at my chart. Assumptions are the worst things to put beliefs in. Until I hurt myself, I went to the gym. I swam, did Barre, loved my yoga classes. But I am round, right? I can’t possibly be fit? Twist brother. My polite way of saying “GO F^*K yourself.

The outpouring of help and support from people around me both at work and in my personal life have been wonderful. I am not too young for this surgery nor am I too heavy. Advocate for yourself. Go after the care you deserve. Don’t let anyone brush off how you feel. What you think matters. If my surgeon would like me to shed a few pounds I will. I have already put in the work with some therapy sessions to prepare my leg for the coming event. This time I will schedule some mind therapy as well to help me get through the depression that might come afterwards. I didn’t seek help after my thyroid adventure, I should have. Lessons learned.

Today is not just another day. Today is my Birthday. I had a grand day. Hubby and I made it a great day.

Never Give Up ON WHO YOU ARE MEANT TO BE

Out With The Old…

kidtrishLeave a comment

In with new? So more than a few years ago ‘the Spark Joy movement’ started by Marie Kondo swept through the USA and I am sure other well-meaning societies too. Who doesn’t enjoy a quick, easy to use technique for changing a life path? After I threw out numerous bras and panties my hubby asked me to spark my JOY another way. I find myself at the end of another year in this walk of life. We are just a few months into 2025. Just WOW! I moved into a new age decade July 2024. I am now one of the millions of people who are referred to as “old, older, ancient…” I think you get my drift. I would like to say that I am middle- aged but since I know I won’t live to be 120 years old that is a bold face lie on my part. I have always been dramatic about getting older. I have I often feared that time was/is my enemy. I chose that path when I could’ve been enJOYing the walk all along.

Time is the greatest liar. It is misleading and lurks in dark corners waiting patiently for you to notice that you have spent it foolishly. Time can be on your hands, running out, getting away from you. It can be spent wisely and foolishly. Time can be “on your side” or completely against you. It is a cruel prankster and often baffles the person trying to manage what little time they have left to accomplish all of the things on their bucket lists.

I recently read somewhere that if a person is really lucky, they have about 4000 weeks or roughly 77 years of life. This information caused me to spin into the far reaches of my quiet spaces and worry about my time. How have I spent it? How many weeks do I have left? Does my bucket list need to be updated? Are there bridges I am willing to burn/cross to live within my peace? I honestly don’t know how to answer these questions. I never once in my youth thought that I would be where I am now on the cusp of yet another birthday, dreams unmet, waistline, sigh, let’s just say I am setting that pipe dream free. There are so much more great things in my life that are far more important than my body shape. I have held onto that pressure for way too long. And then it hit me…

I AM LIVING MY BEST LIFE just by being in it, being involved in what goes on around me, loving the people in my life. My hubby and I are rediscovering how wonderful we are together and not just as married peeps but as friends. He is my ride or die. The number of weeks left to my life is not what is important, it is who you spend your time with. Take that vacation, hug that loved one, tell your friends how much you love them, spark JOY for yourself. Be in your moments. At the end of a life well spent there should be no regrets, no should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

Never Give Up on the Person You Are Meant to Be

3:33A.M.

kidtrishLeave a comment

WHY? am I awake at this feckin’ early hour? Simple the pain of being. I am older and as such sometimes my body hurts, a lot. In my past I have broken a leg, an ankle, and my acromion ( top of one’s shoulder )of my right arm. My hips ache and my bony knees need cushioning while I sleep. There was no article of reference for this in my “How to Adult” booklet that was handed out in tenth grade! Wait, What? there was no hand out? WTF, serious mistake made by someone in Housekeeping that is all I can say.

The hubster and I are on our yearly two week break from taking orders and behaving like adults venture. I know most people refer to this time as vacation but seeing as we STAYcation most years it doesn’t hold the same allure for me. I do enjoy a good stretch of time off for good behavior though, truth be told. Anyone who knows me understands that I loathe my birthday; a long standing tradition of mine dating back to when I was wee, when I lacked the understanding of sharing a birthday with the county that I call home. One of us (not me, just to clarify) has much better fireworks and guest participation.

I have learned from the older version of myself that my Birthday can be quite amazing if I just go with the flow and set my inner child expectations to low instead of STUN. This year’s birthday; however, did indeed STUN. Hubby and I ventured to Gillette Stadium to go our first ever professional soccer game. We met up with some friends from our extended hockey family, tailgated (another first), laughed, and enjoyed our surroundings, the mayhem of the crowds, the heat of excitement and post game fireworks and music.

SO many things were different this rotation around the SUN this July versus last July. I know most people live January 1st to January 1st but my calendar is July to July, sorry not sorry. If you are a fellow July Peep, you get it. It’s not my fault the rest of the World lives within the Gregorian Calendar, formerly known as Julian time. I march to beat of the TRISH event calendar. Huzzah! I say! WHAT? Last year I was in turmoil. I was getting over major surgery. I was not in a healthy mind space. I felt adrift. Life moves on; if you can accept that some times paths, courses, and people change. I have changed. My tastes in all things is on a path of discovery. I am learning new things, accepting new challenges, meeting new people, I am maintaining my weight loss! For the very first time in my old lady life, I am choosing to stay healthy. I am wearing last seasons SUMMER clothes! Huge victory for me.

As of this musing, I no longer feel adrift. Who knew this feeling was normal and to be expected after surgery, not me, but then again I have NEVER had major surgery before. Life lesson learned = ) I will never understand why mental health still carries a stigma. Every person who draws breath sometimes struggles with feeling OKAY. I know life is a tough battle that is sometimes carried out on the battlefields of one’s mind. We all have value as individuals. We each have a life story. I am still working on mine. Welcome to the adventure. We will be traveling at a speed in which I feel comfortable. If you are boarding, please have your attitude ( only good vibes accepted at this time) and luggage ready. I promise you love, laughter, acceptance, and a rip roaring good time now and then. Remember…you are enough, you are beautiful, you are loved. Love the people in and around your life. Embrace your moments. SIDE NOTE…? I have even learned to enjoy the ART of a hug. It is sort of like the tiny libraries everyone has on their lawns these days: leave one, take one. LOL

Never Give Up On The Person YOU Are Meant TO BE

Semi Colon ;

kidtrish1 Comment

Please let me say this now, in no way do I mean to hurt anyone’s feelings or make light of your own personal struggles or mental health issues. This is my story. I just feel that if things don’t get said no one hears the dialog and things just stay the same.

I grew up with a parent who was disabled by her mental illness. I was teased by peers because my Mom was weird. Kids were often mean and let’s be honest didn’t understand and didn’t want to understand. I struggle with my own sense of worth because of how I was raised. It is a daily struggle for me to believe that people like me and in spite of myself it is true. The World right now is in an uproar about suicide and mental health but I am not sure the World really knows how fucking hard it is to let someone into your suffering. Everybody has the answer the day after. No one likes to be held at arms length to be judged. Some times that is the reoccurring theme of a person living with depression, judgement. Do you know how many times I have heard in my lifetime that my mother was faking her mental illness just for the attention.  The words of disbelief from people because they were under the false assumption that my mother had her shit together but was putting on a show.

If I concentrate and close my eyes I can still see my mother’s tear stained face. I can feel her anguish. I am unable to help. She doesn’t want to be sad but she doesn’t know how not to be. It is not about the things you have in your life. It is that you are in your life. You are convinced that everything would just be better if you went away. The number of times my mother threatened to abandon me by dying…has left me with scars that never quite heal. My pain is just below a brave façade I put out there for the people in my life. The face I want the world to see, not the person I really am. Every time I learn of another death caused by suicide I can’t help but wonder how long that soul fought with themselves, years? weeks? months? too afraid to ask for help? or too caught up in their own demon flow that they just felt they were not worth saving? Or???? Questions I cannot answer, haunt me. I am returned to my childhood; I struggle to regain {my sense of who I am}the ground I have fought so hard for all of my life. My nights are filled with terror and nightmares.

Everybody has the answer the day after. I stopped blogging for a few weeks because I needed to figure out where I was going. I had started to give away things I own. I have been obsessing about down sizing because I am getting older but I have been ANGRY, agitated, and feeling like I just wanted my ride to be over. I guess I didn’t realize how easy it was for me to slip into the abyss. How many times in my life did I stand frozen with fear watching my mother in the depths of her illness, in pain and anger and self loathing, struggling to find a reason to stay? I knew from an early age she had to find her own reasons to live, that we weren’t her reasons. I think sometimes that is why I feel like I am not enough. Children should never be responsible for an adults happiness and well-being.

Never under estimate the power of a smile or a kind word or a firm well meaning question. Someone in your life is out there trying to find a way to keep you in this life. Believe it. You are loved so much more than you give yourself credit for. You are strong in a way that makes your inner beauty shine. You are kind. You are wanted. You are everything to someone. You are ENOUGH. I love you. Everyone struggles. Everyone cries. You are not alone.

I have been having a difficult time finishing this piece. Menopause is no joke. I hate the person I am right now. Overly emotional, tired, and hateful. I am not this. I am better than this. Trying to come up with answers I could swallow, I made myself sick. I have been having a hard time trying to figure out where I am going. I took some time off from blogging to relax, breathe and reconnect with who I am and what I want for myself. Love is the greatest gift we can give. I LOVE YOU.

For more information about Project Semicolon please visit: https://projectsemicolon.com/

Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant TO BE