In gratitude to nature

When you live with a condition like bipolar getting out in nature is extremely healing, but for me it isn't always possible.

I LOVE nature. If you spend anytime online you'll see people love nature, I think it's just something in us as humans, we are connected to it, it's a soul gift.

Instagram makes me feel like I have to post daily photos of me in nature to prove how much I love it.

The truth is with my mental illness I don't get outside everyday, sometimes I can barely get to my couch, but this is also true, every day nature gives me a bit of hope. Birds out my windows, the sound of the wind through the trees. I often sit in my yard in the grass and just be, there is no photo, but I always see something beautiful or interesting and it connects with something in me and gives me hope.

For this I am grateful to nature

My moms hands

As a child I was pretty quiet, I loved being alone and I loved listening to stories, I loved having books read to me and I loved listening to adults talk about their life. I’m still very much like this, but I have found I also have things to share, for the most part my sharing is for my kids. I lost my mom before they were able to know her so I share her with them so they feel like they have a picture of who she was. This sharing has been a joy for me, talking about my mom with them has actually allowed things I had forgotten to return, things that had perhaps been buried beneath the grief of losing her.

I loved my moms hands. I remember sitting behind her in the car as a child and just observing her, and she would reach her hand back and hold mine. I always felt like my mom knew I needed that extra bit of reassurance, that I was loved and seen. I miss that about my relationship with my mother, someone knowing me, seeing when I struggle and reaching out a hand without me having to say a word. My husband of course supports me and loves me, I’m not saying I don’t feel loved in life, I just miss her and they way I was known by her. My mom carried me, my childhood, saw me through years of change, through the challenges of being a teenager, and then watched as I found love and started a family of my own. This past little while I have remembered the last bit of time with her. A month before she passed away she told our family she wanted to stop treatment, I began to grieve at that moment. Even early on in my moms sickness I felt that the journey with her would not be a long one, it was like my mom slowed down and took life in in a different way, and I felt it, like time was short, it struck sadness and fear in me early on, and as the time approached it made me grieve even before she left.

I talked to my mom every night on the phone, I had my first baby and my mom wanted to take in every detail, often the conversations were long. The final phone conversation I had with her was like a bad dream, she didn’t know who I was, and she kept saying goodbye. I decided I needed to see her, and so my husband brought me to her and it was very apparent that things were happening very quickly. I stayed with her and soon after my older siblings arrived as well and we prepared to say goodbye to her. The hardest thing for me to see after she was gone were her hands, hands that were once so full of life, hands that had held my baby, hands that had comforted me. As I grow older I notice my hands are so much like my mothers, I’m even getting the age spots she had, and I’m also more and more aware of how precious time is. My kids are growing, soon leaving, and every moment I get to chat with them, hug them and laugh with them around our table is time I hold close. There are a million things I could invest my time in and some of it may be good, but I know time is the most precious thing I can give to those I love, it is the lesson I take from my relationship with my mother.

Getting past my appearance

I’ve been making small gains in accepting who I am and how I look. Growing up appearances were really important. Our weight, the way we dressed, and our behaviour were a big deal, and I internalized those messages as a quiet kid. It was also the the time period I grew up in, the 80’s/90’s were the height of diet/appearance culture, but I could never measure up (or down) I still don’t. My weight has been a roller coaster ride right along side my mental illness. These past couple of years I have moved away from sharing “weight" centred posts on my own social media. I see much of the weight and fitness posts on social media feeding into the mindset that a person’s appearance is what’s most important, and that looking thin/fit means "healthy/successful ".

What we say as adults about appearance, health and success on social media matters, it is what young people see.....it matters. "Before and After" photos tell us nothing about actual health. Many young people right now are suffering with mental health issues, so many kids are struggling in fact that there are several months long waiting lists to speak with a professional and get help, I know this because we've needed this help. Suicide rates are up......a jog doesn't fix that, a smaller body size doesn't change the unaddressed stuff kids are suffering with right now.

I've begun caring less about what people think of me and my appearance as I age, but I have been dealing with my own internal junk. I've found it is as hard for me as running 5k was, and yes I ran 5k.

I now eat what I like within reason, and I like a variety of stuff. I wear what I like, and I move when and how I want to. I am now able to do this because the actual issue I had was properly addressed, it wasn't my weight.......! Bodies change a lot in a life span….mine definitely has, It’s normal. I’m for eating well and actually enjoying it. I'm for getting outside and allowing nature to heal you, and I’m completely for loving yourself, and wearing whatever it is your into wearing, and I'm for being completely who you are, but for me weight/appearance will no longer be an indicator of success in one’s life. Internal character growth and changing the unhealthy ways in which we think should to be celebrated more openly, reaching out for help should be celebrated with as much volume and applause as appearance based accomplishments. Growth in the areas of understanding and growing deeper empathy as a society is where value should lie, and what we should strive to change in ourselves.

I follow some amazing anti diet Instagram pages, on one I read this, “your appearance is the least interesting thing about you” I believe this is true, about you and all of us.