Health

Whether we want to admit it or not—whether social media wants to portray it or not—we’ve all got our fair share of problems. We all have our own way of coping or completely ignoring the problem hoping beyond all hope that it will just go back to it’s dark cavern only to come out around the Thanksgiving table so we can all get some damn good entertainment around here!

It’s the little things, guys and gals.

This isn’t some bullshit guide into the ins and outs of self-care, which very often doesn’t involve bubble baths and a glass of wine, but does look very much like just washing your face and journaling 5 stupid things you’re grateful for, even if it’s that your cat successfully avoided vomiting on the carpet and aimed for the bathroom tile.

Hashtag living my best life.

We may not have the ability to change the hand of cards dealt to us, but we do have the power—and the God damn say!—on how we play the next card. This is an experienced take on how we can make things worse. From a gal who has done it all! Follow these steps to make sure you’re fully embracing making the problem worse.

1) Think about it. All the time.

Spend a majority of your time thinking about how you could have done it better or differently. Try to change things that have already happened. Now think about this while you’re trying to go to sleep. In fact, think about that time you stumbled over your words to your former boss who probably can’t even remember your name. Think about it until you call in the Melatonin troops around 3am.

2) Surround yourself with no one.

Now that I’m my own boss (and I get to sit around and count my millions, a la Scrooge McDuck), I often don’t speak to anyone until the afternoon, when the doctor hubster gets up and does his best impression of a zombie, lumbering down the stairs, mumbling incoherently while making his way to the bathroom.

Be sure not to get out of the house when you’re feeling lonely or reach out to friends for a quick 10-minute call. Don’t go on a walk to enjoy the fresh air and think through things. Cocooning yourself in your home is ideal.

3) Confide in people who don’t have an empathetic bone in their body.

“It could always be worse.”

“You should be grateful for what you have.”

4) Ignore it, entirely.

Another amazing tactic is denial. Just sweep it under the rug and pretend it isn’t there. It will go away. It will rear it’s head another day and maybe then it will be a bigger problem, but you’ll have the ability to cope better by then because you’re isolating yourself, right?

5) Embrace you are the only person to ever deal with this.

Family problems? Friendship problems? Martial problems? Work problems? In-law problems? You probably are the only person who has them. You should also tell yourself this when scrolling through a carefully curated Instagram feed.

BONUS) Eat those 2-week-old leftovers from that Mexican restaurant.

So what if the enchiladas could sing your name and teach you how to count in Spanish at this point. Go for it!

It may not seem like it in a social media driven world, but we’re all go through stuff. Heaping piles of stuff. (Think of that giant pile of shit from Jurassic Park.) Yours may look different than his or hers, but it’s still a pile of annoying problems.

There are ways of coping; healthy, wonderful, productive away of coping. So take heed and don’t do what’s listed above. Find your people. Go on a walk. Talk to your friends. Talk to your therapist. Know you aren’t alone. We’re in this crap together. So here’s to you, the power-through-it-ers.  You’ve got this.

The New Year brings on a plethora of eye-rolling goal setting and resolutions. Ones that typically bring us disappointment by mid-January, so we inevitably toss our hands in the air and give up. We all do this, don’t feel bad. You. Me.

Me. Remember how I lived in Florida for 6 years and swore I’d finally speak fluent Spanish? Muy malo, Carolina.

Perhaps it’s because so often thinking about what could be is so much more gosh darn exciting than examining what the frick just happened in the last year. Because, hey, that’s why I pay a therapist, am I right?

There is a fine balance. Too much examination about things you can’t change can lead to depression. Too much examination about things that haven’t happened can lead to anxiety.

Both of which are super fun to dabble into sometime, guys. I highly recommend it if you want to play the game of, “How can I worry about things I can’t change and also somehow do tomorrow’s dishes?”

If there’s anything I’ve learned in this rough and tumble year, it’s that we’re destined to repeat it if we don’t figure out how we got here. And heck, if you want to repeat 2018, good on you! But I’m all about ringing in the New Year with lessons learned, holding a blow horn welcoming in new adventures.

In 2018…

I peaced out to Corporate America and started my own business.

In February, I left my job as Senior Copywriter at a small ad agency and said hello to running my own copywriting business. It was the best and most terrifying professional decision I’ve made to date. What a roller coaster ride of pushing through constant self-doubt and I’m still learning.

If I could go back, I would tell myself that everything is going to be okay. To give myself a break and understand that building a business is just that, building. I wasn’t going to have regular clients right out the gate regardless of my 15+ years of experience. That needed to be built. Still does.

The reality is I applied to and/or contacted hundreds—yes, hundreds— of jobs and connections in the last 9 months. I constantly had to put my vulnerable self out there and say, “Hey, this is what I can do” or “Hey, this is how I can help.” I had maybe a dozen—yes, a dozen—even respond. It can be a bitch of a soul crushing time. You sure you don’t want to start your own business?

I think the biggest surprise for me is feeling gratitude from my clients. When you’re in the agency world, it’s what can you create and how fast. Very often you don’t hear from clients or you only hear the negative. It was surprising to hear how each of my clients not only like, but love my work. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said to the hubster, “Hey, I think I’m good at this.” He sort of cocks his head like pugs do when they’re confused, “Well, yeah. Duh.”

What I learned is the wonderful clients I have today came through a business connection, a friend or because they know me personally. I have such a sparkling personality, that people remember me, you guys. <adjusts halo> I’ve been nurturing those relationships. Those are the ones that matter, not the colleague from a decade ago who heard about a job posting.

I also know my worth. I’ve been sucker punched (via email) with arrogant, douche-nozzles who break down my rates to cost per word (which is an industry standard) and tell me I’m crazy for charging more than the industry average. Yes, because I’m Not Your Average Gal! I’ve done my fair share of paying my dues and working through UpWork for $50 jobs that take me days to complete. Those are not the clients I want.

That said, we could absolutely not do this without having saved prior to me leaving my cushy corporate job or the hubster moonlighting grabbing extra shifts. It has without a doubt put a financial and emotional strain on us. One that is improving month to month—just had my best month yet!—but should be used as a fair warning for anyone who wants to jump into this. It’s a bitter pill to swallow not earning as much as I used to and knowing it takes a toll on us.

My goals are to outpace my previous income and I’m on track to do it. I need to focus my energy on what fills my creative bucket and pays the bills. Sometimes it can’t be both, but it will be. It will.

I flew over 30,000 miles this year and my soul told me it was too little.

In February and March we went to Hong Kong, Vietnam and Cambodia. It was incredible. I will never, ever get sick of hitching a ride on a flying metal tube and landing in an unfamiliar place. I need to be pushed out of my comfort zone.

Not more than a few months later, we made the decision for me to move back to Michigan and any future travel plans, not that any were concrete, were derailed with moving costs and logistics. Not to mention I fell, crushed two fingers and needed surgery. Just add it to the tab – says life when you’re starting a new business.

Before last month, it had been 4 months since I had flown anywhere. It sucked. I realize how crazy that sounds to people, but handbags, expensive shoes and fancy cars may fill your soul, traveling fills mine. Save ya’ judgement for something more substantial.

Putting together travels plans, even penciled-in ones, in the new year will give me the giggles and goals to work towards.

Psst. Next up is Portland, OR, Seattle, WA and Japan!

I firmly embraced the way people treat me says more about them and it’s been transformative.

Over the years, I’ve found empathy gets me into trouble. I try to understand why a family member or friend may cut me out or treat me vastly differently than others. The conclusion was, as always, it must be me.

With the advent of therapy—that glorious thing—and years of working on confidence, I can confidently say (see what I did there?), it’s not about me. It’s about them and their values. If they’re not putting as much time and effort into a family relationship as I am, that says more about their values. If a decades-long friendship was just a seasonal one to them, that’s their deal. If they only call or check-in is when something is needed, that’s on them. Know that and adjust your expectations accordingly.

Knowing that I’m unwilling to prioritize relationships where I’m only a convenient option or go out of my way to show up when my presence is met with indifference, means I can finally, gladly adjust my expectations. Does it mean flipping the bird in their presence and sending them bags of dog poop? No, it just means meeting people where they are; to stop loving people who aren’t ready to love me. How relieving!

They aren’t bad people, not even close. They just aren’t my people. 

The holidays are always a shit reminder of this, right? If you’re doing something out of fear, obligation or guilt, ask yourself why—even if it’s family. “We no longer have to subscribe to these unhealthy tribes of convenience because we can now build families by choice. Please remember as long as you are bringing celebration and joy into your life, you’re doing it right.” – a brilliant copywriter I know

I’m confident I’m a good enough friend, family member, wife and contributing member to society that if something was wrong, I will kindly be told and if not, I can kindly carry on and readjust my sails for meaningful relationships. I’m so grateful for those meaningful relationships.

I moved 1400 miles and had to relearn how to live with the hubster again.

Neither of us were prepared for the adjustment of living together after being 1400 miles apart for 2 years. I wasn’t prepared to see how grueling residency is and the ramifications of that on the hubster.

It was brutal. Still can be.

Add in the complete weather change for me, an entire third year of residency on night shifts and I was looking for the next flight back to Fort Lauderdale.

But, we needed to be back in the trenches together. That would have been the easy decision, to turn back around, throw deuces to Detroit and head back to sunshine. It’s easy to ignore and put your head in the sand at what had (and hadn’t) unraveled in the last 2 years of our long-distance relationship.

I always joked that medical school, mental health and marriage were a difficult thing to manage…and you can only pick two. But, it’s brutally accurate. Now change that up to residency and starting a business?! Bring on the stiff drinks, friends.

I only say this because so often we only see and hear about the good things, even from our close friends. How many times do you see Facebook posts declaring how wonderful life and love are, only to see cryptic posts about a divorce or break up seemingly soon after? Smoke and mirrors is infuriating and social media surely perpetuates it. (I’m learning to peel myself out of that world.)

Marriage is tough. You’ve got a mirror on your worst qualities, while simultaneously seething over empty toilet paper rolls. Add in what the two of us have been handed, thrown and chosen willingly to go through over the last decade and I’m surprised I haven’t pushed him out the window. (Hey, Michelle Obama said this on her book tour, so I’m not the only one who thinks it. You do too!)

But, we’re making it work. That whole, for better or worse part, am I right? Plus, I’m reminded after a good night of sleep or day off, what a compassionate, kind guy I’ve got; the one who I fell in love with. From what I hear we are absolutely in the worst part of residency, so I’m holding tight and reminding myself (in the fetal position), “Only a year and a half left. Only a year and a half left.”

I’ve learned I’m far more capable of change, acceptance and forgiveness than I give myself credit for and—AND—constantly working on oneself, no matter how ugly it gets, isn’t selfish, it’s the key to deeper growth and fulfillment.

Our next move may be a big one, one in which we’re exploring currently.

Sometimes I just wish I had that gene, that specific slice of DNA, that mindset that never seems to question circumstances. The people who just accept the first job offer. The family that just settles down where they grew up. The person who buys the airline ticket without examining every single date, time and moon phase option before hitting purchase. It seems—and I know seems is the key word here—that others don’t examine the other options before just rolling with what life throws at them. That short-term gratification without thinking how that may affect the next five, 10 years.

I want that!

Every decision we’ve made in the last decade has been somewhat calculated for his medical career. That instant gratification of a new car and nice, large house, we’ve had to put off while calculating the next step.

Now we’re nearly there and find ourselves saying, “What next? Where to?”

What a pleasant surprise! A welcomed change that I’m happy to explore next.

So, here’s to 2019. Bring it on, my sweet, lovable and totally don’t-mess-with-me-or-I-will-cut-you, readers! I hope you have a wonderful, introspective New Year filled with belly laughs and growth. 

Updated March 2022

I know the exact place to sit in the shower so the stream of water hitting my head feels more like a gentle rain; slowly, carefully, cathartically soothing my aching heart. It’s a spot that allows me to put my heavy head down on my tired arms and still be able to breathe, washing away my tears in a slow, methodical downward spiral in the drain.

I’d venture to guess if you asked someone who struggles with anxiety or depression, they’ll tell you about similar spots where they can be alone with their pain, where they feel safe, but almost certainly in shame.

As I awoke to the news recently that Anthony Bourdain had died, I assumed as I clicked on the article, bleary eyed, yearning for my morning caffeine jolt, that it was because of something unexpected. A heart attack. Perhaps, an overdose. I gasped out loud, “No,” as I read he died by suicide.

I was right about one thing, it was unexpected. But, as anyone who struggles to dodge the stigma of talking openly about mental health knows, it’s not something that’s sudden. It’s something that simmers unnoticed as we make our way through the motions of life, even a very privileged one. Even one where you sit in your shower to cry sometimes.

What always surprises me after the tragedy of a suicide is how quickly people revert to the boilerplate of success, as if that solves mental health issues. Career? Money? House? Wife? Kid? Check, check, check, check and check.

So they ask, “Why?” because the absurd perception of the grass being greener would immediately mean that life somehow doesn’t have complex intricacies in a different yard.

It’s bullshit.

If Anthony Bourdain taught me anything in my meager life of travel, it’s that regardless of social status, we’re more alike than different. It’s something we desperately need to be reminded of in this divisive world. Sit down for a meal and you can always learn something from your neighbor, maybe even that you share the same fears and struggles. He made the world feel a bit smaller, more accessible and full of wonder. I traveled to specific cities in certain countries because of the valuable information he shared. Perhaps that’s why this one stings a bit more.

I’ve been very open with friends about how helpful therapy has been for me. Take one look at my bookshelf and you’d think I’m getting my PhD in personal development. I’ve written about it here after Robin Williams died by suicide and here to push past the stigma. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy and it certainly doesn’t mean I have my shit together. Yes, I can travel to exotic locations, smile sitting on a bench in my favorite city in the world and still struggle with self-worth issues.

Very often we don’t ask people who seem to have it together, if they’re okay. We assume our cheerful friends are fine. We don’t see our strong friends needing our help, so we never offer it.

Ask anyone who has sat in the dark, damp crevasses of our hearts and minds and they’ll tell you just how scary it is. Just how alone they feel, even in a room surrounded by people who love them dearly. How they think they are the only person to struggle with a mental battle. I’ve been in dark enough mindsets to know the power it holds; it’s unyielding.

It’s taken me years of coping strategies to pull myself out. Years of practice affirming my worth. And you know what? It will still be a continued, valuable journey.

I wish they offered a “Work in Progress” stamp for my passport.

I’ve learned to say the following things to people when I just don’t have the strength to be your normal take-on-anything self and pretend it's all okay. Maybe it will help you too?

• I'm out of decision making capabilities for today. Is this something you can handle?
• Are you looking for feedback or just an ear to listen to you?
• I know this seems like a relatively tiny task or I've handled this before, but I need to you to problem solve this one.
• I'm not okay and that's okay.
• Thanks for your patience while I took time to respond when I could/was ready.
• I know the 90's wedge-heel fashion shoes that had ballerina-like straps are called, “Espadrilles.”

(That last one happened in real life and yours truly came in clutch for her trivia team.)

The problem with telling people to just “reach out” or “call if you ever need to” is you underestimate they may already be gasping for air, bobbing in and out of an ocean of emotions, using all their energy just to stay above the water line. When you’re in it, viscerally in it, very often the last thing you want to do is burden someone else with it. To reach into the depths of our courageous bones and say that life sucks sometimes, when we know we may lead one of privilege, can be an impossible task to complete.

Especially if they’ve been met previously with some toxic positivity garbage of, “Be grateful. Other people have it worse.”

I understand the kind intention, and help should absolutely still be offered, but putting the onus on the person struggling can often mean missing a chance to connect. So if anything from this tragic news has reaffirmed to me, it’s to check in and connect. Check in with your loved ones. Tell strong friends that they deserve “time off” too. Ask that constant ear in your life if they need one too. Simply sit next to a pal when you don’t know what to say (and that’s okay too). And maybe, in memory of Anthony Bourdain, offer a seat at your dinner table.

You never, ever know what someone else is battling. Ever. You never know what a simple, caring connection could mean to someone.

Be kind. Be kind. Be kind, my friends.

Where is Home?

Before age 10, I had moved 7 times. The last move brought us to a lovely, diverse city in Michigan that I was lucky enough to spend most of my formative years in, even after my parents divorced. My dad lived in Chicago, about 400 miles away, and before I graduated high school, my younger brother moved in with him. My older sister peaced-out to Michigan while I was in college and my mom moved twice between the four years I had graduated high school and college.

“Going home” during breaks always took on a new and different meaning then.

When the hubster and I left Michigan to move down to Florida so he could start medical school, I didn't leave a single blood relative behind in Michigan. They had all already left.

As people start talking about “going home” for the holidays, pangs of sadness always remind me of that tender spot. Gosh, how nice that must be; to have a home base, somewhere they always know will just be there.

There's nowhere for me to “go back to.”

I don't have a home.

Quite frankly, I haven't had one since I was a teenager.

Being Alone on the Holidays

This isn't being shared for sympathy, but rather for community. To commiserate amongst the droves of you who share less than idyllic feelings about the holidays. This is Not Your Average Gal after all. Even if I’ve made a lovely home of my own now in my ripe old age, there’s still some loneliness associated with the holidays.

At the current time, my husband, sister, brother, dad and I all live in 5 different states: Michigan, Oregon, Nevada, Minnesota and Florida. I'm also pretty positive we live at least 1000 miles away from each other. Yup, just Google-mapped it. Ha!

Traveling each holiday to be sure you aren’t by your lonesome gets expensive and exhausting. And it's okay to say, “No.”

It just means you may find yourself alone on the holidays.

AND THAT'S OKAY TOO!

You're not an awful person. You're not socially inept. You're not being shunned because you may be on the next episode of, “Hoarders: Buried Alive.”

There is nothing wrong with you.

It just didn't work out this time because of schedules, lack of planning, lack of money, lack of sanity, lack of Xanax, WHATEVER.

You are truly not alone; so many other people experience the holidays by themselves. So much so, it's really not correct to say that you're alone. You're truly amongst a large crowd.

Feeling Sad Around the Holidays

The holidays bring along a myriad of mixed emotions for so many people! People who even still hang out with their families discussing politics over dried-out turkey while tapping the bottom of the wine bottle to make sure they got every last drop. (What? It's good stuff.) The holidays cause familial anxiety, fuel the need for perfection and play into our materialistic desires.

Heck, you could be surrounded by a room full of jovial relatives and still want to cry in a corner. It's not just about feeling lonely; it's about the constant barrage of perfect holiday charm and feeling, well, less than perfect.

It's all bullshit, pals! That fake crap they want you to buy into? It's not fulfilling.

The holidays may be dotted with Starbucks Toasted White Chocolate Mocha, cutesy decorations, terribly cheesy (but amazingly awesome) Hallmark Christmas movies, beautiful, almost-Goddamn-perfect family holiday cards, and fun, open bar office parties for you, but it's not like that for everyone.

For some, the holidays are a reminder of (for however brief) how alone they are feel, the tension with toxic friends or family or the sadness from friends or family who have passed. The reason for the season goes far beyond the dollar bins at Target and nestle their way into your heart. It's about friends. It's about family. It's about love. It's about connection.

So if you're feeling less-than-connected or don't have a place to call “home” this holiday season for whatever reason, don't beat yourself up. So many people are in similar situations and feel the same way.

Just remember, the people trouncing around with their Starbucks red cup in one hand, while beaming about how glorious this season is, may really, hand to heart, feel like that. They may also go home and stab the holiday voodoo doll they own to help keep up with this Christmas charade.

It's not all sugar and spice and gingerbread nice, guys.

So be a babe and make an active choice to be kind to everyone, especially this time of year.

And from my less-than-perfect, chaotic life to yours –
Happy Holidays, Not Your Average Gals and Guys!

For those of you wondering, I'm actually not going to be alone this year! The ER doc hubster is working again on Christmas Eve and Christmas (some heroes don't wear capes) but I'm spending it with my dad and stepmom in Minnesota. I cashed in some unused Delta Skymiles and decided to go after the hubster reminded me I was really talking like, a whole heck of alot, like, please shut up, about being alone on Christmas. Besides, that's why we accumulate our frequent flier miles, right? Just so you're not the crazy lady sitting alone at the pool in a santa hat drinking a Bloody Mary this year again.

Very recently I was told that my pursuit of being the best, being the most career-driven maven, was actually preventing me from being satisfied. I struggled to comprehend this awakening of sorts as it echoed through my veins.

You mean, I don’t need to unlock a hidden ad agency copywriter achievement?

You mean, I don’t need to be on a defined career path and get to the top before enjoying other aspects of life?

You mean, I don't need to have a million followers?

You mean, I don't need to be top-ranked in search engines to provide valuable information?

You mean, I don’t need to finish every webinar, study each option or examine how others do it before hitting publish?

Wait, what?!

It was simultaneously relief and regret.

I’ve spent so long, in so many aspects of my dynamic and wonderful life, trying to achieve perfection that I could possibly have let months—hell, years—go by trying to literally attain…the unattainable.

Instead of accepting the imperfect and simply striving for significance, fulfillment. Peace.

Perhaps it’s a symptom of being a middle child. Growing up with an amazing older sister who is one of the smartest and gifted women I know, and also competing with a younger brother who often hilariously sought and got all the attention—I made it a mission to do things to perfection; to earn validation, admiration. I would be the best.

Perhaps it’s because I hold the hubster in incredibly high-esteem. I went through every career high-high and low of the lows with him while he struggled to become a doctor. I know the dedication it takes and because of that, I hold him in high regard. I want that too, so I bust ass doing what I can in my life and career to make it happen.

But, now I’m being told by my friend at the bar that even if I’m not a doctor or as smart as my incredible sister, I’m just as important without being a CEO. (And by “my friend at the bar” I mean my monthly session with a therapist.)

This probably seems like such basic, elementary crap to others, but honestly, it was a revelation to me. I held onto awards and certifications and menial achievements like they will go on my gravestone.

I don’t need to be a career mover and shaker to still have significant meaning in my life. I don’t need to be #1, earning top dollar or commandeering a crew.

Jaw. Floor.

I’m very often an all or nothing kind of gal. If it’s not done properly, to my high-expectations, it’s just not worth doing. Because, wouldn’t it be embarrassing if it didn’t work out, didn’t earn first place or worse, it failed miserably? This thought process has prevented me from doing so much. From putting out more blog posts, to producing and editing more videos (something I love) to even taking up opportunities that may be scary like networking and freelancing more.

This sort of admission may surprise some of you wonderful people, since I tend to keep things real ’round these parts, but this is part of the journey in self-care. Realizing you’re in your own way when it comes to being more fulfilled in life.

I don’t need to be the best ever copywriter ever, wife ever, blogger ever, in the history of ever to still do things well, or hell, even good enough. Striving for perfection is exhausting. It’s paralyzing. It prevents me (and you) from doing things we love for fear it may not be good enough.

As my friend therapist said, “The good stuff comes from inside, not for a grand image.”

So, slowly but surely I’m readjusting my sails. Setting myself on a distinct path of personal fulfillment where the the winds may not take me to a fancy career title or give me awards and accolades. And for the first time in a really long time, I can honestly say that’s okay. It’s more than okay—it’s a relief.