When it’s time to hand in your notice to go in search of yourself
I was resigning, in the truest sense of the word. I was conceding defeat without being checkmated. I had come to accept that something undesirable could no longer be avoided.
If you are in distress, you can call or text 988 at any time. If it is an emergency, call 9-1-1 or go to your local emergency department.
An Ottawa writer and former speechwriter, and Manager of Communications at the Mental Health Commission of Canada. A homebody who always has her nose in a book, she bakes a mean lemon loaf (some would call her a one-dish wonder) and enjoys watching movies with her husband and 11-year-old daughter. Suzanne’s time with the MHCC cemented her interest in mental health, and she remains a life-long learner on the subject.
I was resigning, in the truest sense of the word. I was conceding defeat without being checkmated. I had come to accept that something undesirable could no longer be avoided.
While Digital Health Week was a celebration of the advantages of connected care — from virtual consultations to e-health records to useful apps — it was also an opportunity to reflect on how we maintain our best mental wellness in an increasingly digitized world.
It’s easy to make assumptions about people based on their academic accomplishments, professional successes, or philanthropic contributions. But sometimes if you pull back the curtain, you discover untold depths and hardships that reveal a more valuable story than a five-sentence biography can.
I reached Ian Morrison at his office at the Regina branch of the Canadian Mental Health Association (CMHA). A graduate of the Humber College comedy writing program, he teaches people how to harness their experiences — with mental illness and life in general — into stand-up comedy routines.
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do,” he said. “Just tell jokes, make people laugh.”
September in a post-vaccinated world was supposed to hold the promise of a return to normalcy. And while there was elation when that first bell rang, a new reality has since set in — one that includes helping children manage their emotions as COVID continues to leave its stamp on school communities.
When Mo Korchinski left prison, she wasn’t handed a kit with resources to help her turn her life around. There was no guide on how to readjust to an autonomous life. Instead, like many before her, she was given a plastic bag with her belongings and a ticket to where she came from.
Only a few pages into Jann Arden’s new book, If I Knew Then: Finding Wisdom in Failure and Power in Aging, I am convinced she’s borrowed a tiny piece of my own experience with grief and put it on the page in my stead.
Understanding recovery starts with acknowledging that every person is entitled to a satisfying, hopeful, and contributing life, even if they experience mental health problems or illnesses and/or substance use concerns. With that basic right comes a powerful shift to a path toward wellness that is rooted in hope, dignity, self-determination, and responsibility.
The challenges wrought by the pandemic are splashed across the news. They inundate our social media feeds and dominate our conversations (still masked and at a distance) if we run into neighbours at the convenience store or gas station.