*WARNING: Hot Topic Discussed in this Blog.* The Topic - When Suicide Occurs

This is a hot topic and it seems to be fairly prevalent recently in the news and media.  I am not sure if it is because there is an increase in death by suicide or that people are just starting to become more aware of suicide and its effects on people.  And seeing as I have had a fair share of people in my life die by suicide, I am going to talk about it. 

Before we start this conversation, I am going to preface it with this - these are *my* thoughts.  These are *my* feelings.  These are *my* experiences.  That doesn't mean they are right or wrong, common or rare and up for judgment.  Leave your judgment at your fingers and just read with your eyes.  I am also inferring what happened the way that *my* brain has laid information out.  It doesn't mean it is what happened or the events that lead up to the behavior but just the information my brain has and how it has decided to process the information.  There is no right or wrong in this conversation.  So please keep that in mind when you read this, if you continue on reading. 

I am going to talk about the four people I knew who died by suicide and each event.  So lets start. 

Carolyn 

The first person who I knew that died by suicide is Carolyn.  She was a classmate during my time at Red Deer College and she made her presence known.  She was loud and boisterous and good hearted.  She was older than most of us and usually took either the mother hen role or the fun aunt role.  Her personality was massive and infectious. 

Being part of the Legal Assistant program, you never got to venture out and hang out with other programs - they were all pretty inclusive of each other.  It just happened that the Kinesiology program was putting on a hockey game evening - a party bus (ie - alcohol permitted on the bus) would leave Red Deer, head up to Edmonton and catch a game between Edmonton and Calgary.  I can't remember how I got the news or what, but Carla, Carolyn and I had decided to go.  Get out of the Legal Assistant program bubble and meet other people in other programs.  And plus, it was for a hockey game.  Seemed like a pretty good deal. 

The day the game arrived, Carla and I met each other at the College (it was a Saturday) and {I think} Carolyn texted Carla, saying she wouldn't be coming and to have a good time.  I remember wondering if we would still go since Carolyn couldn't but in the end, we decided to go anyways.  Another story short, I was drugged on the bus and landed in the hospital.  Clearly I survived since I am typing this but this is now where my brain tries to put things together. 

As it was college students on the bus, it was a college matter.  But since nobody saw it happen and I couldn't remember what happened, the College took the stance that they couldn't do anything about it. And Carolyn did not like this and wanted to push the issue and I found myself along for the ride and as the exhibit of what happened.  I honestly don't know if she had a personal vendetta against either the College or the Kinesiology program but she was like a dog with a bone and would not let it lie.  She convinced me to write an article in the student paper, bringing the issue to light and set up meetings with so many college officials to discuss the incident and what would happen.  Well, as you could probably gather, nothing happened.  We had the meetings, I wrote the article but no investigation happened, no sanctions were placed on people.  The college basically just swept it up under the rug. 

There is a link in my brain between the college not doing anything and Carolyn's death.  It could have been months after, it could have been days after, I can't put a legit timeline together in my head, but sometime after her mission to bring my event to light failed, she killed herself.  And this I remember so clear - we were sitting in one of our classes that had all the students - probably litigation or something like that.  But we were all sitting in our lecture classroom and I remember seeing Carla sitting in the seat closest to the door and her head was bowed low and I thought it was curious.   I didn't see Carolyn either but that could have been because she was sick or something.  Well, the department head came into the classroom and announced that Carolyn had passed away over the weekend.  And either someone asked or they clarified but it was announced that she died by suicide. 

And this was all of us

Carolyn?  The happy, loud classmate of ours? The one who always wanted to make sure we were doing good and wanted to go out Thursday night after classes?  The one who didn't portray any depressive behaviors or symptoms - that Carolyn?  The one who texted me that same weekend, asking me to meet up for coffee?

And then my brain started analyzing her behaviors the past couple of weeks. When she had texted me that weekend, asking if we could meet up for coffee or drinks, I told her I was unavailable, when in reality I just didn't want to go anywhere that weekend.  If I had said yes and met up with her, would she have alluded to what she was thinking? Would I have been able to give her some hope and dissuade her from making her decision?  And go further back than that, what if I helped push the topic of my drugging more and tried to have the same drive she had to make the College deal with it?  Basically, what could I have done that would have helped her realize there were other options other than suicide? 

And those are questions that I would never be able to answer.  Why? Because I don't know what was going on in Carolyn's mind when she made her decision.  Maybe my going to coffee with her would have made no difference.  Maybe the College starting an investigation into the incident on the bus would have made no difference.  Maybe those were minuscule events compared to what she was actually dealing with.  Who knows.  And I never will.  It was one of those things that we dealt with it as a class and moved on.  But some days my brain goes back to those moments and I do ask myself the same questions, trying to find some sort of logic in her decision. 

Andy

I don't even know how to begin this one.  Andy was my sisters ex-husband who I stayed in contact with after their divorce.  Bottom line, I knew he was depressed.  I knew he tried to kill himself.  I knew he was struggling.  I am just going to get that out right now and why, because I wouldn't have done anything differently. 

We always had conversations about feelings and what we were going through.  I know he was struggling after their divorce and tried to be the logical, rational voice he constantly needed to hear.  Maybe I wasn't helping by being the voice of reason and logic but I also couldn't be a voice of delusion and hope when there was none there.  He was consumed with this idea of getting my sister back and I became a broken record in telling him it would never happen.  This is the problem with constantly analyzing everything - I can be so sure that I did the right thing in telling him it was a pipe dream and he would never get back with my sister but then a tiny voice in my brain will be like "well what if you went along with his dream and let him live it out" and then everything gets twisted and turned and I don't know what thoughts to believe anymore. 

When I went out to Vancouver, I would visit him.  When I broke up with my ex boyfriend, he came to Calgary to spend a night with me when I was struggling.  He came to celebrate my graduating university.  He was there in every support he could be.  And I tried to be there for him in that way as well, but with words or phone calls.  He would call me up in the middle of the night and be "well what if I did this differently - would she want to be with me then?" and I would have to be "there is no fixing this.  It is done.  She has moved on.  You have to as well".  And he would acknowledge it and then we would talk about something else and it would be weeks until the conversation happened again.  And each time I would say "you have to move on".  It became routine.  I became the constant phrase "you have to move on".  And maybe in his head, my saying "you have to move on" meant "there is no point in living".  He kept saying he wanted closure but when we talked about his need for closure, his need would never end. His mind just kept going on a loop of needing to see her again, 'one last time' he kept calling it.  It became so painful for him to try and figure out how to survive. 

And then he told me about the time he tried to kill himself.  He was found in time by his girlfriend at the time but it made me realize just how badly he was clinging on to the past and the fact that his past could never turn into his present. I didn't know what more I could do so I suggested he go talk to somebody who can give him support that he needs as I didn't think I was doing any good.  I also told him that if he ever felt that way again, he could contact me day or night and I would listen to him and give him the support he needed.  But I think it was too late and he had already made up his mind that his present and future was not going to be what he wanted, what he thought would make him happy, and there was no point living.  And I accepted that.

So the night that I was living in DC, out at a classmates house making our shirts for the DC Challenge, my sister skype calls me.  Which she never did.  And the first thought that went through my mind was "Andy died".  I mean, why else would my sister be calling me.  And yep, that was the phone call.  She told me he had killed himself and I wasn't sad or surprised or shocked.  I was ready for that phone call.  I knew that he did not want to live anymore and I did not want to convince him otherwise.  That was his choice.  And I think I told my sister that, or I told her that in my head, that I was ready for that phone call.  But it doesn't make it any easier to deal with and learn to live with.  I still miss him after all these years.  There are days that I want to text him to tell him something good happened during the day or when I am struggling and I know he would understand, I still go to his contact in my phone and then the voice of reason pops up in my head and tells me he is not there anymore.  And yes, it hurts every time I realize he isn't there, but it is an okay hurt as I know he is not suffering anymore and to me, that means more than his ability to answer my text. 

The aftermath of dealing with Andy's death was hard and it wasn't until just recently I figured out why.  I can't blame the dead person, with any of these deaths, I can't bring myself to blame them.  I can't blame Andy for killing himself and I can't get angry at him for doing it.  I can get angry at myself and blame myself for not doing more to help him out.  And unfortunately, a little piece of me blamed my sister.  Maybe if she gave him closure, that would have been enough and he would still be here.  But again, that is me looking for logic.  I am 100% sure that even if she gave him closure (whatever that would have been), he would still want more and still think there was a possibility of getting back together with her, it would never be enough and he would never let it go.  So sister - please know that I do not think you could have done anything to stop him or that you did something to cause him to go down that path.  That was his decision.  That was his choice.   I knew it then and I know it now. 

Cam

Bare with me as I already feel tears starting with thinking of Cam.  And not because of my anger towards him and his decision, but more so about how his decision was portrayed in the family (and this is going to ruffle feathers, so I apologize now).  I am also going to advise this - I am not judging how other people grieve, I am not judging how other people cope, I am not saying what is the right or wrong way for individuals to come to terms with what happened.  I am talking about the way people coped or grieved and how I allowed that to impact me. 

Cam was my cousin in a very huge family.  Growing up, I never really knew him or hung around him as a) lots of cousins, b) he was way older than me and c) he lived in the States.  I really don't remember what caused us to start communicating, but I remember it was when I went back to University.  I may have reached out to him after his divorce, or he reached out to me, I honestly can't remember.  But we made contact and basically stayed in contact from 2007 to his death, and I don't think many people knew that.  Our contact varied from texting or emailing to silence depending on what was going on with our lives.  He told me about his wives and future ex wives and I told him about school and moving and my ex boyfriend.  We were part of each others' lives. 

When I moved to Nebraska, I was not able to head home for Christmas so Cam bought me a ticket to spend Christmas with him and his daughters so I wouldn't be alone.  And the three days I was up there, it was like our age difference or geography distance or anything like that mattered.  We had so many conversations about life and work that we would stay up late and just talk.  Have real, meaningful conversations.  It was amazing.  It was always evident when we had communicated in the past, but it became more evident that weekend that we were the same people - black sheep of the family, always a disappointment and never supported (I could go on and on with evidence of these feelings but that is not what this blog is about).  And after that weekend, we texted daily.  We became support for each other in every aspect of our lives.   

He told me all about his struggles with depression and things he has tried to help it - counselling, medications, changing lifestyle, etc.  And he told me that he was going to die by suicide - that was his plan and he was sticking to it.  he told me that his plan was to do it after he had certain affairs in order, so I kind of knew what to look for and when to prepare myself for it.  And again, I accepted it.  I knew how much he was struggling, I knew how alone he felt.  And yes, I told him that if he ever needed someone to talk him off the ledge or give him some hope, to call me and I would do that.  But I also told him that I understood his decision and supported him in it.  Because I did. 

So when I got the phone call from my mom that he passed away, I was surprised but not surprised.  I was surprised because in all our texts, he didn't tell me he got to the point of  getting his affairs in order but I wasn't surprised since I knew that was his decision all along.  I also knew that one way or another I was going to make it to his funeral since I had a feeling not many other family members would make it.  Plans were made and next thing I know, I was on a road trip down to Wisconsin for his funeral with some family members. 

His funeral was hard.  I have been to many funerals before and none hit me as hard as his did.  I remember before going into the room to view him in his casket, I started crying.  An aunt and I went into the bathroom to attempt to compose myself before seeing him and that is when I realized what the perceptions were of the family of his death.  So many times during that weekend I heard "well he had a mental illness/disorder", like that explained everything, or justified the reason why he died.  And like I said above, maybe that is how they coped or grieved.  But the way my brain perceived that statement was "it doesn't matter that he had no support from family or friends.  It didn't matter that he had tried to get help.  He was never a person that we could have helped, he was a person with a mental illness/disorder."

So I leave the bathroom with my aunt and now beside being sad, I am slightly angry.  And the more we stand there and wait until we can go in and see Cam, the more worked up I get.  By the time we enter the room to pay our respects, I go full blown into ugly crying.  Hanging onto my wonderful cousin who was my rock that whole weekend and body shaking crying.  My brain and emotions were going everywhere.  It was right then that my brain finally realized that I would never be able to talk to him again.  My brain finally realized that I would never have a support like him again.  My brain finally realized that he left me alone in our family.  And my brain realized that if I ever succumb to my depression, the family members are going to say at my funeral "oh, its because she had a mental illness".  And it hurt.  And I let it out.  Which apparently was not the acceptable form of coping or grieving some people thought I should have, as I was told afterwards.  But at that moment, I was not coping very well as I felt the loneliest I have ever felt. 

To learn that my behavior during the funeral was unacceptable and worried some of the family members made me mad.  Especially when they didn't come up to me during the funeral to ask me what was going on.  Oh no, instead they went around me, to my mother, and told her she should be worried about me.  Livid.  I was livid when I became aware of this.  And putting into words my lividness is difficult; I was livid because I could see a cycle in my mind - don't do anything people are uncomfortable with as they won't support you.  And both Cam and I had multiple, similar stories of the family doing this.  And I just wanted to yell at the top of my lungs this cycle, but that would have been unacceptable. 

Also, I heard this many times "well if you knew he was going to kill himself, why didn't you stop him?" And this could be said along with Andy, although I didn't really have that conversation with anybody surrounding Andy's death.  People say suicide is selfish.  I say asking someone to stay alive, suffer till the end of time, be unhappy and feel like nothing will ever get better no matter what you do, that is selfish.  I also wanted to ask the people "you didn't even know he was suffering or didn't attempt to give him support to get through his darkness, so why do you want him to still be alive?"  I think it is hard for people who have never had suicidal thoughts intrude their mind, or if they have never stared at a means of killing themselves, to understand what that suffering feels like and what exactly they are asking of a person when they ask them to stay alive.  

Am I done grieving and coping with Cam's death? No.  Will I ever be? I don't know.  It hurts.  Like with Andy, there are many days that I go to text him and realize no one will answer.  I am happy that he ended his suffering and chose to not live in pain for others anymore but I am mad at him for leaving me to survive in this family and life alone, especially now knowing how they view things like mental illness.  It makes me want to be like Cam and avoid family gatherings and just live my life, but then it makes me worried about how much I can be like Cam and go down a similar path.   

Aly

Aly's death is the most recent.  Aly's death is the one that I have placed the most blame on myself.  And I will always have unanswered questions about Aly's death. 

Aly and I met in University, during our counselling class.  She wasn't a psych major but took it as an elective.  We met, we bonded, we became inseparable.   She was younger than I was by quite a lot but we still were close friends.  She was the most loving person I have ever met, her heart was so big for everyone and that was her eventual downfall. 

We kept in contact when I moved away; we would facetime once a week and always text, even though our schedules were always opposite (she was a night owl, me, not so much).  When I was back in town on holidays, we would always see each other and go to Zoolights in Calgary  I would go see her at work and we would go dancing at Ranchman's or go to karaoke.  She helped me survive living in Calgary more than she realized. 

Then she met Paul.  Who was an asshole and treated her like shit. At first, I kept my views and thoughts to myself about him but eventually I couldn't.  Eventually I had to keep pointing out to her how he treated her and the emotional abuse she took.  But she had the heart she did and loved him through all the suffering.  Until it got too bad. 

They started having more and more troubles.  He would move out, they would fight, he would move back in, they would be in love.  And then it would start again.  And the more I heard the story from her, the more I kept telling her that she had to leave.  That it was an abusive relationship and she deserved more.  And I kick myself now that I think about it as I ask myself "if you were a loving and accepting friend and didn't tell her things like that, would she have killed herself? Would she have felt supported?" But then I tell myself that, like with Andy, I can't allow people I love to be in delusion.  Maybe I was the only person who gave them a dose of reality.  I don't know.  And I could drive myself crazy thinking all the "what if you said this instead of thats". 

And, like Andy and Cam, I knew she had tried to kill herself in the past.  However, I honestly did not think to follow up with it as I just couldn't picture her taking that path.  As before, I can go into so many "what ifs" here - "what if you followed up with her about her plan? what if you followed up with her about how serious she was in wanting to die? what if you dropped what you were doing and went to her to help her out?"  The what-ifs can seriously drive me crazy.  But the thing is, I didn't do any of that.  She had counselling training, she could theraperize herself.  She knew the signs of what to look out for.  I was basically putting everything onto her because I didn't want to think that she could kill herself.  I started putting up a wall between us, intentionally or unintentionally, I do not know.  Her and Paul started going off and on, and she knew where I stood with it all that our conversations became very few and far between.  Then I learnt just how bad of a friend I had became. 

We went out for our annual Christmas dinner and gift exchange and she didn't have a drink, which was super weird.  When I got home, I texted her, asking her what was up and she told me she was pregnant but she didn't know how to tell me since it was Paul's.  Well, I felt like a bag of shit after reading that, and probably rightly so.  I realized that it wasn't about me or my feelings about Paul - it was about her and the support she needed.  And my heart fell at knowing she didn't want to tell me what was going on with her life.  I didn't know what to do.  I told her that I was so sorry for not being there for her and realizing how much of an asshole I have been.  I told her that I would go to doctors appointments with her and help her out as much as she needed.  I told her I would be supportive of her in whatever she chose to do with Paul.  I basically tried to make up the months of being the worst friend to her in a single text, delusionally thinking it would make everything right. 

It didn't. 

When the first trailer of the second Fantastic Beasts movie came out, I texted her, telling her how awesome it looked (she was a HUGE Harry Potter fan).  She had an iphone and it didn't say it was delivered, so I just thought she was sleeping as I texted it first thing in the morning.  By the evening it still wasn't delivered, and I thought she was having phone issues (a common thing with her).  The next morning, I wake up and notice that the text still hasn't been delivered, so then I started getting curious.  I jumped onto Facebook to message  her there and that is when I noticed that her profile had the "in remembrance", so I scroll down and yep - that is how I learnt she killed herself.  By Facebook.  My heart dropped.  I just stared at the screen for minutes, not having it sink in what happened.  Looking at my phone, at the undelivered message to her.  Trying to wrack my brain with what happened, when did it happen, and why the hell she didn't tell me.  That was the worse.  That I put up such a wall between us that she couldn't even tell me she was going to kill herself (my therapist has told me that I can't put it all on me and that I can put some of it on her as she could have easily texted and she chose not to, but again, I can't blame the dead person). 

Aly's death hurts more than the others because I chose not to see it coming, I blame myself for putting up a wall between us so high that she felt like she couldn't share how depressed and low she got and that I didn't get a goodbye and I put all that blame on myself.  And try not to give in to the "what-ifs" because there are just too many of them with Aly.  I will always have Aly with me - in watching any Harry Potter movie or going to movies that we would typically go to see, that I know she would laugh at the same parts as I did, or every time I see a Swiss Chalet.  I have no answers with her death and that is the hardest part for me.  

Conclusion 

The fact that I have known 4 people who have died by suicide is kind of astonishing (I try not to think of myself as the common link between all their actions) but each death by suicide has impacted me differently.  And that is what I wanted to share - your experience with suicide or death is YOURS and nobody can tell you that you are coping or grieving wrong.  And each death has made me realize something about myself and how I can hopefully help someone in the future if they are dealing with depression or suicidal ideation.   With each person I have known who have died by suicide, support has been a huge factor and that means I will always support the people in my life, regardless of it is support to try to find hope or support to end their suffering.  Support is support and it can make a huge difference in one's life.  

Moral of this blog:  F*#k it and support the people in your life, even if it is something you don't understand.  There is a reason why every therapist will ask their patient what kind of support system they have.  It matters.  It means something. 

Also,  

  

The Ever Constant Experience with Post-Concussion Symptoms

I am not sure if it is because I am more aware of it, or that the medical and sports fields are starting to realize the effects, but lately in the news, there has been a lot of talk about concussions and dealing with the same.  Which is good.  Why you ask? Because they suck, and I can tell you from experience.  If I had a flux capacitor, I would go back in time and either dodge to the side prior to the spike or not sub at all that night I got my concussion. 

This is basically exactly what happened to me.  Just add some glasses that went flying off (I still maintain that if I wasn't wearing my glasses, the damage would have been greater as once the ball hit my glasses, it change trajectory) and some blood pouring down onto the floor from both nostrils.  Oh yeah, it was quite amazing of a pass from the face.  And out of all my years of playing, going on like 19 years of playing at the time it happened, that was around the 2nd time I have taken a ball to the face.  I am pretty sure the first time I got hit in the face I had a concussion a well, but it was back in the day and people didn't really think getting hit in the face/head was a big deal. 

The Event/Immediate Effects

So I got hit in the face.  Hard.  On a Thursday night (which will make sense later on). If you know volleyball terms, we were playing a way more talented team that the team I was playing with.  The middle blocker wasn't that smart at reading the plays.  The team I was subbing with played 6 up.  And the play was a shoot set to the power and bam, when it is a free for all and I am basically sitting up at attack line, I didn't even see it happen.  A comedy of errors. And yes, I blame myself because I should have seen it happen since if I was the setter, I would have done the same thing.  I just honestly had no time to react to the play as it happened so fast.  After taking the ball to the face, cleaned up the blood, took some tylenol and went back to playing. I had a headache but that was to be expected, but no other problems or symptoms so I didn't think twice about going to get checked out that night or being more cognizant of what could happen. 

I got home, had a shower, popped a couple more Tylenol and went to bed.  Woke up and felt okay, minus the headache, but again, no other symptoms.  So I went to work, did my normal duties, got home, fell asleep fairly early and went on with my life.  Again, no other problems except for the headache.  However, Sunday night I go and watch a friend play in a Battle of the Bands event.  It is loud.  It is stuffy.  And halfway through the night, I start feeling like crap.  And when I say crap, I mean like, the drunkest I have ever been, and I didn't have a single drink.  I felt like it was hard to walk, like I couldn't walk in a straight line, my head was pounding, I felt like I was going to vomit.  It was bad.  And it hit me instantly.  Driving home (probably not the smartest idea), I thought it was because I was lightheaded from not eating very much between Saturday and Sunday so I stopped at a McDonalds to see if getting some grease and food in my system would help.  And nope, it didn't.  I didn't even finish what I bought as I was feeling that crappy. 

I wake up and head to work the next day, Monday, and again, feel like crap.  Still dizzy.  Still nauseous.  Still have a massive headache.  Throw up occasionally throughout the day.  And can't form thoughts really; I am pretty sure I wasn't making any sense at work and people were giving me the side eye like I was having a stroke throughout the day.  So I decide that after that night, if I wake up Tuesday and I still feel like crap, I will head to the hospital to get checked out.  Go home, go to bed, and wake up and yep, still feel like crap. Thankfully the dizziness was at a minimum so I could drive to the hospital but everything else hurt.  Any noise, lights, smells.  Nothing was sitting well with me.  Get to the hospital and thankfully didn't have to wait for too long to get back in and see the doctor.  Tell the nurse why I am there and then chill on a bed, waiting for the doctor.  He comes in and does a neurological exam (checks my vision, hearing, balance and strength, coordination and reflexes) and then asks me what happened.  So I tell him and when he asks me if I lost consciousness, I told him no.  Now, for all of you reading this - always say you lost consciousness, even if you didn't.  Why you ask? Well because I have a feeling I would have been taken way more seriously if I said I had lost consciousness.  Instead, as soon as I told him I didn't, I felt like in his brain, the severity of what  happened to me and what I could experience was lessened drastically.  So he tells me that he doesn't think I need a CT scan but that I did have a moderate concussion and should go on brain rest for the rest of the week.  He gives me some anti-nausea medication, and a doctors note and sends me on my way home. And commence the week of brain rest.  Which is brutal. You basically have to lay in the dark with no noise or no stimulation to the brain.  Thankfully this go at the brain rest, I just slept.  Or listened to score music but I could not sit there with no noise and in the darkness.  Talk about exacerbating the depression symptoms and driving yourself bonkers.    

The Right-After-The-Event Effects

Once I got back to work from the week of brain rest, I was a mess.  My moods were all over the place, my sanity was all over the place and my physical health was all over the place.  

I had headaches on a daily, basically hourly, basis.  I had to get all the lights dimmed around my desk as they would hurt my head.  The slightest of noises just irritated the hell of out me and staring at a computer screen all day long caused feelings of nausea and dizziness.  I felt constantly tired and foggy in the brain and felt like it took me so long to understand what people were telling me or I had to take some time to remember what a task was or something like that.  

And then mentally, I felt like crap.  They say that post concussion symptoms and depression symptoms feed off of each other and I can attest to that.  For the first couple of months, every day when I went home from work I cried.  I had to stop myself from crying at work some days in fact - I just felt so tired and exhausted at trying to work while struggling.  And I constantly felt like no one cared about what was happening and that what I was experiencing was nothing because I didn't have blatant, physical indicators of the pain I was feeling and that caused more internal anger and frustration which would then cause a bigger headache to happen.  I think it is because people can understand you if you say you  have allergies, or if you are going through a depressive or anxious moment - those are known and common feelings that most people can understand.  Trying to tell someone that my brain was exploding from the inside and I felt like death every waking moment and couldn't get rid of the feelings no matter what I did, it was pointless.  I was irritated at everything - my work, when people talked to me, my feelings.  I was a walking pile of irritation that would never leave.  And basically, anything I felt or did caused a headache.  And there were some days I would get home and crawl into bed and just go to sleep because I couldn't do anything else.  Some days I did not want to wake up and live with the mental and physical pain anymore.  Or the hopelessness that I would ever have a pain-free day.  There were some days I wanted to jam my letter opened into my brain to see if that would stop the pain.  There were some days that I could cry all day long because everything felt dark and hopeless.  I didn't experience one pain-free day those first couple of months after I got the concussion.  It sucked.  

I was playing 4 nights of volleyball when it happened, so then I dropped down to 2 nights once I could get my headaches until control.  Going out was basically a no-go as a) I couldn't function basically after 6pm and b) any sort of loud noise would trigger a headache.  Thankfully my friends were pretty understanding of the limitations I had but it still did not help the overall picture of my quality of life.   

Dealing with the Medical System Effects

Dealing with our health care system with this concussion has had its trials and tribulations. Again, I feel that since a) I didn't lose consciousness and b) I didn't get a concussion from football or hockey or boxing, the doctors don't feel like it is a serious problem.  I also felt like they were looking at me like I was trying to score some of the good pain medications for my headaches.  I felt judged every time I went to see a doctor about my symptoms.  

It was a couple months after the first "brain break" I took, I went back to the doctor as I was still not able to function completely.  I told them that I was irritable all the time, that I was still getting headaches most days, and that my quality of life decreased as a result.  I also remember telling them that I would get this pain behind my right eye that felt like my eye was going to explode.  Or that the headaches were making me want to jam a letter opened in my brain to relieve the pressure/pain.  I also told them that I had changed so much in my life to try and decrease the symptoms - I reduced my gluten intake, I got rid of all synthetic smells in my place, I drank a lot of water throughout the day, I took my brain breaks at work; I did whatever I could to help the symptoms.  And do you think they were concerned about my complaints? Nope.  They didn't take a MRI or CAT scan to make sure my eye wasn't going to explode (I went to my optometrist to make sure nothing was wonky with my eye) or that my brain wasn't going to explode and they kept telling me that there was nothing they could do for me.  And maybe there wasn't, but I felt like they didn't try every avenue to find out why these symptoms were as severe as they were for me. And it doesn't help that I am not a good advocate for myself because in those instances, I want to press the doctor for more tests or information, but then in my head I think that if they don't think anything is wrong, then maybe nothing is wrong and I am just fine.  My brain could be exploding and they would probably think everything was still fine.  

It was not fine.  I finally got put on some medication to reduce the post concussion symptoms and they helped for a while but then the usefulness decreased and trying to ask for a different kind of medication was aggravating and got me no where.  Everything about discussing my concussion symptoms with the health care professionals was like pulling teeth and getting judged.  It was ridiculous.  

The Post-Concussion Symptoms/Effects

It has been almost 2 years since the concussion. So people naturally assume that I am all good and life is swell.  Well, it is for the most part, but I still have struggles and symptoms of the concussion.  And that is when people say "surely, you can't be serious? it has been 2 years" and to this I say 

I will tell you in point form basically how I have to live my life right now to avoid any severe post-concussion symptoms:

• When playing volleyball, which yes, I still do, I need to drink a lot of water.  And I mean a lot of water.  Even if it is a simple game, I need to drink a lot of water.  And usually take some Tylenol and Advil in between the games.  I am not as good as a defensive player anymore as I am afraid of getting hit in the head again so if we play against a really good hard hitting team and the block on the power side isn't strong, I am backing way up so that way I am not a sitting duck.  If I have a slight headache I will still play, but I will pay for it the next day.  If I have any dizziness, I bail because that just won't be good and if I have any nausea I bail.  I don't sub either before or after my games as playing 2 games is more than my head can handle.  
• I have cut down on my drinking, which makes me sound like an alcoholic but I am not.  Before I used to love beer and drink beer but now beer gives me a headache and crappy feeling.  I found that gin is the only alcohol that doesn't make me want to stab myself in the head or fall down with dizziness or nausea.  I also can't have a drink if I am tired or already have a headache as that will exacerbate the headache.  
• Going to the movies is precarious - if I have a headache, I can't go.  If I have a hint of a headache, I can only go to a movie that won't have explosions or loud noises or flashing lights.  I remember I went and saw the Star Wars movie a couple months after the concussion and I felt like my brain was having tiny explosions - I was in pain.  I have to really watch what movies I choose to go see in the theatre and if my brain will be able it.  
• At work, my lights are still turned down around my desk and I know it will be a headache day if I feel like the lights are brighter than other days.  Also, my sense of smell can trigger headaches so at work, on random days, certain smells will exacerbate the headache.  And I still need to take brain breaks, especially if I am working on revising a document or doing a lot of thinking.  
• I am still in bed around 8:30 or 9.  I find that my energy level by the time I get home is pretty low and I am exhausted.  There are no longer nights where I can leave my house around 10 to be social.  Most of my friends know that my bedtime is around 9 so we make sure whatever
  
  plans we have will be long done before then.  And even though I don't get a good quality of sleep, if I don't get more than 4 hours of "brain rest", then I am a zombie the next day.  And am nauseous and dizzy and cranky.  I used to be able to function just fine on limited sleep and now, the bed makes its unhappiness known when I don't get sleep.  
• I am tired, all the time.  I don't run off of all cylinders like I used to and some days, I have zero clarity in the brain and have no idea what people are talking about.  And I get tired easily - people tired, environment tired, work tired, just tired.  
• Driving tires me out easily.  I used to be able to drive for a long time without having any adverse effects and now, when I drive home, by the time I get home, I am done for the day.  I am exhausted and tired and will most likely have a headache.  
• Some days, just out of the blue, I will get a wave of dizziness or nausea and usually will stay home on those days.  Thankfully they haven't happened very often but it does.  I have tried to track eating habits, weather patterns, menstruation patterns and I can't come up with anything specific that triggers it but most likely it is work related in that I was thinking too much or staring at my computer screen too much without taking breaks.  
• When cross stitching, I have to take frequent breaks to rest my eyes and brain.  I used to be able to cross stitch for long periods of time, sometimes never taking a break, but now, I have to, which means I don't get as much done in a period of time that I used to.  
• I had to change all the teas that I used to drink - anything black based gives me a headache, anything creamy based gives me a headache and anything with a lot of caffeine gives me a headache.  My tea selection is very limited now because of what my brain does and does not like.  It was sad when I realized I couldn't drink any of my favorite teas anymore.  

Regardless of any of the above, or any steps I take to try and mitigate any post-concussion symptoms, I still get them.  Headaches are a common thing in my life now and I don't bother taking Tylenol or Advil for them (unless it is a volleyball night) as I don't need my liver failing as a result.  I did some research and some people have effects for a couple of months after the concussion, a couple years after the concussion and some people have effects for the rest of their life.  I have a feeling I will fall in the last category because I am lucky that way. 

Concussions suck.  The after effects suck.  And people who don't truly understand what I am going through suck.  It isn't as simple as 'give it time' or 'drink more water', or x, y and z suggestions on what to do when the person doesn't have an inkling of what is happening. 

Moral of this blog:  1) F*#k it and don’t get a concussion.  Easier said than done in some instances but if you do get a concussion, be vocal about what you need from our healthcare system as they don't appear to want to help you out on their own; and 2) F*#k it and be understanding of people who are going through concussion symptoms.  Don't automatically write them off because they "appear" to be functioning.  Trust me, they are going through a struggle and having people not care or belittle their symptoms makes matters worse.    

You Know How You Go Into A Public Restroom and the Integrity of Every Stall Has Been Comprised So You Have to Pick the Least Disgusting One? That Is How I Feel About Dating.

(the title was taken from a hallmark card - not my original thought but I love it!!) 

Well my intention of blogging more has clearly failed.  The problem is that I have about 3 unfinished blog postings that I keep going back to that I just can’t seem to finish.  Not sure if it is writers block or what, so we need to celebrate that I got this one done – yay!!  

A friend and I have always talked about speed dating in Calgary and since I did it while I lived in DC, I figured why the hell not.  It isn’t that scary and can provide a night of entertainment if nothing else.  However, our schedules never seem to align and one night I just decided to sign up for two different speed dating events in Calgary.  Why two you ask?  Many reasons – 1) broaden the net of potential fish; 2) see the difference between the companies (make it an experiment so to speak); and 3) just the two really.  I didn’t expect anything to come out of either night so I was going in to both events with the view that it was a night out talking to many different people.  So come along with me on the journey of the two speed dating events.  Names have not been included to protect identities on the rare chance someone may read this and it is one of the guys, but I am using my own nicknames that could be very specific.  So guy, if you are reading this and I have named you, first off – you are potentially an asshole if you didn’t match with me and I said I wanted to get to know you better or I apologize if you said you wanted to get to know me better and I did not reciprocate. 

So come along with me on the first night!!  

I get to the coffee shop, thinking it will be nice and cozy and comforting.  Not so much.  It was small and bright, not really comfy cozy.  I pick the very last table for two reasons: 1) to have some space on at least one side of me and 2) I figured it was going to get loud in there and wanted to try to mitigate that as much as I could.  So sat down and just waited.  And then it felt like we were getting picked for a dodgeball game.  The women sat down along the wall and the guys picked a seat and sat down with that girl to start off the event.  So yeah, it felt a lot like getting picked last for the dodgeball game.  I don’t

know if I was picked last but it was still not a good feeling.  The event started off with an “ice breaker” wherein we were supposed to mingle and ask a couple of questions to the opposite sex to see if we were a match on the forms.  Well with the space so small, it was hard to mingle.  And to hear people.  I think I only talked to two people and then gave up as it was crowded and people weren’t really moving (I think they all thought the same thing).  After the ice breaker, we sat down again and the speed dating started. 

I swear at this event, all the guys had emailed each other or something and had this type of conversation:

“Hey, guys,  what’s a good hobby we should all say that will make the women like us?”

“Yo, bro, what about playing sports?”

“nah – women don’t like sports.  They like shopping and getting their nails done.  Sports won’t interest them.  It has to be manly and a turn on.”.  

“what about hitting the gym? What woman doesn’t want a guy who goes to the gym. Goes with the paleo diet which I am sure we are all on at the moment, we are big, strong.  *insert manly grunt Instant turn on.”

Why do I think this? Because. Every. Single. Guy.  (no word of a lie).  Every guy said in their spare time, they went to the gym.  Seriously.  My head hurts when it tries to figure out the rationale for the need for people to have to vocalize their gym expeditions.  Sure, being fit and healthy is all fine and dandy, but it just seems like this mentality of going to the gym is such a big deal.  I was honestly trying to not laugh every time I heard that hobby.  I also wanted to be like “know your audience.  Do I look like a woman you would find willingly in a gym? Hell no.  So does that impress me? Not so much.”  I would have been way more impressed or interested if they said they played volleyball or hockey or something.  Maybe that is a reason why I am still single.  One of the very many reasons.  I haven’t jumped on this “to live is to go to the gym” bandwagon.  And I don’t think I ever will.  

So notwithstanding the whole shouting at each other sitting a foot across each other because it was so frigging loud in there, there were some decent conversations.  Here are some of the memorable moments from that first event.  

I have realized that sarcasm can get lost in a 5 minute conversation.  With one of the guys, who was a financier for a rich, hoity toity family, we were talking about his

transferring money to an offshore account.  So I asked if he was squirreling money away at the Cayman Islands or British Virgin Islands for a rainy day, wink wink, and it went right over his head as he went into the tax liabilities in each country.  And then my eyes glazed over.  I tried to backtrack out of asking about his work and tried to move into his hobbies.  That is when he mentioned going to the gym as a hobby and I almost vomited as by this time, I heard that hobby about 5 times.  I wanted to ask if all the guys went to the same gym and wore hats but again, the sarcasm probably would have escaped him and he would have went into the logistics of wearing a hat while working out.   

Then there was the guy who said that he worked in IT on gambling and porn websites.  So I was like “wow, you cornered the market on enabling the non-drug-or-alcohol addictions”.  And he looked at me.  And I looked at him.  And then he said “yeah, my sisters told me I should come to events like this as they know people who met people this way”.  And the whole time, he was shifty eyed to all the other tables, sat sideways, almost ready to bolt at any moment and had beady eyes.  I will admit, I kind of got a “you may kill people and take their eyeballs” kind of vibe.  

Another guy, I have no clue why he was there.  Either he assessed all of us from the get-go and deemed us all as unworthy of a legit conversation or he was just there for shits and

giggles and didn’t want to have any meaningful conversations.  He would get up in the middle of the 5-minute conversation to get some water (while most people tried to jam in as many words as they could in those 5 minutes to make an impression or something – I guess he wanted to make an impression in a different way).  He gets to my table and our conversation is super superficial – it is all about speed dating.  Nothing personal.  So clearly, he didn’t want to get to know me as a person.  And he got up and got a drink of water during our conversation, so I was like “good talk.  Excellent conversation skills. You definitely know how to carry a conversation and how to engage a female”.  The chick who was sitting beside me was trying to not laugh as she heard me.  He came back to the table during my soliloquy, so I am pretty sure he completely wrote me off after that.  Big loss.

  

End result of the first event – interesting characters, not any really that I could actually see myself in a legit relationship with.  I did put down that I would be interested in coffee with a couple of them and I matched with one of them. Yay!  But more on that later…… (enter suspenseful music).

   

Soooo……… lets go to the second event!

I get to the restaurant, happy that we are off to the side with a slight barrier as I had pictured us sitting among the patrons and being their entertainment for the evening.  They had a better set up than the first event in that both the guys and the girls had assigned tables so it wasn’t like getting picked last for the dodgeball team.  And I will admit that I nerded out a little at this event as I was reading such a fascinating book and brought it with me so when I sat at my table, instead of mingling and making small talk, I was the loner with the nose in a book with probably some pretty interesting facial expressions on the face.  But, if the guy had a positive outlook, it would have shown that I was an intellect and liked the finer things in life, like books and literature.  At least that is how I was justifying it at the moment.  

There was no icebreaker game at this event, thank goodness, so the dating started right away.  And, like last time, I swear all the guys had emailed each other or something and had this type of conversation:

“Hey, guys,  what’s a good hobby we should all say that will make the women like us?”

“Yo, bro, what about going to the gym? I heard that work”

“nah – I used that at the last event and I didn’t match up with enough of the hotties.  They are looking for something they can (in a higher voice) ‘do together’ Urgh.  I just want to hit the gym”.  

“what about golfin’? Women can wear the tight clothes, it is outside, we can show our biceps.  Seems like a good situation for everyone”

Why do I think this? Because. Every. Single. Guy.  (no word of a lie).  Every guy said in their spare time, they golf.  Seriously.  At one point, with one of the guys, I asked if all the guys had the same membership and they all golfed together with matching outfits and he just looked at me weird.  Clearly he didn’t get the inside joke and also, maybe they didn’t have a phone call prior to make that the commonality.  And again, the sarcasm went away above the head.  

At this venue, it was way easier to hear each other, which was nice.  I could actually hear the conversations and they were, like last time, pretty decent.  Here are some of the memorable moments from that second event.  

Ohh, before we get into the guys though, a little psych experiment was conducted – we were sitting at high top table and the guys chair at my table wasn’t across from me but was beside me.  I didn’t move it as I wanted to see if the guys would sit beside me or if they would move it to across the table for comfort.  Let the mind games begin!

First guy – nothing too memorable or exciting about our conversation but he did not move the chair and sat beside me during the conversation.  

Second guy – our conversation was full of laughter.  His first question was asking the age of the girls (I was his second) so we talked about that and then tattoos and that is when he learned that I had no anatomy knowledge as I thought the tattoo of bamboo on his forearm was of his forearm bones.  Which would have been a lot cooler.  But nope.  They were bamboo stalks.  We did not match.  But he did not move the chair.  

Third guy – WAS THE GUY I MATCHED AT THE FIRST EVENT.  And we never did connect after that first event.  And he moved to the chair to sit across from me.  So did he do that because he was ashamed that we never connected from the first event? Or did he do that because he didn’t want to sit beside me?  I say the second option because after he left my table, I kept glancing over at the tables he was at and he did sit beside the girls at some table.  I tell you people – non verbal behavior tells SO MUCH!!!  Anywho, the elephant in the room about matching at the first event was never talked about and we talked about mundane things at this event.  Needless to say, I did not put down that I would see him again after this event.  

So the guy from the first event who kept getting the water during each limited meeting was also at this event.  And he did not remember me!!! I mean seriously.  How many women does he meet that warrants him not remembering me.  And I have to say, most people say I am pretty memorable (I take it as a compliment).  The whole conversation I just kept looking at him, trying to subconsciously tell him that we met at the previous event, especially as he started this conversation the exact same as he did at the first event.  I mean seriously.  I wanted to laugh but I just ran with it and had some fun with him.  I know, not nice, but come on, he didn’t remember me. 

There was this guy that, my goodness, I could see the hamster wheel just spinning in his brain.  It was so strange.  We would be talking and all of a sudden it would be like his brain said “oh, you haven’t smiled in 1 minute so smile” and just out of the blue, he

would smile.  And then the smile would vanish and he would just start nodding.  And then you could see the wheel turning again.  It was like his brain was constantly saying “smile.  Now nod.  Now look interested.  Don’t stare but don’t look away.  Maintain eye contact.  Don’t be creepy.  You are being creepy.  Smile.  Nod.  Now don’t do anything.  Good.  And Repeat”.   I found it was hard to have a conversation with him as I was too fascinated in trying to figure out his mannerisms.  And then my brain went to “what is he like in bed if this is what he is like during a conversation”.  Not a pretty picture. 

Lastly, again, sarcasm escapes the many.

  One of the guys, when he sat down at my table, on his sheet he had drawn those funky “s”’s/lattice doodles that I used to do all the time in high school and college.  So I commented on it when I saw it, telling him that I used to draw those all the time when I was bored in school.  And then laughed, saying that I hope he hasn’t been bored since getting there.  And he tells me that he can draw and listen and I say “whoa – you mean I am talking to a guy who can multi-task?” and he just looks at me and then proceeds to tell me about some guy who did something with numbers while multitasking and my eyes glazed over and the voice inside of my head said “didn’t you learn from the first event to not use sarcasm” and that is when I realized he was staring at me, waiting for me to say something so I responded with “that is super interesting”.  Not surprising, we did not match.  

Over all, it was a fun night. I did not match with any of the guys but I didn’t expect to really.  I met some really interesting folks but I don’t think I was their cup of tea, and honestly, my intelligence and book-loving demeanour was just too much for them to handle.  At least that is what I am telling myself.  Both events were fun and I am glad that I told myself to get out of the house and do them.  You never know who you will meet and I had much laughter those two nights.  If you have never tried speed dating, I say try it just for the experience.  

Moral of this blog:  F*#k it and don’t put expectations on yourself when you are putting yourself out there.  Have fun, be yourself and don’t forget to laugh.