Be Respectful.

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By Anita Manley

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve been busy enjoying my summer, taking care of myself and visiting family out west. I’ll write more about this in future posts.

I’ve been thinking of writing this post about “respect” for a while now. I’m hoping it will help some people navigate difficult conversations about periods of illness.

On the Mother’s Day weekend, 2022, an old friend of mine came into town and we went for coffee at my favourite coffee house, Little Victories. I was a bit anxious about our meet-up as he and his wife had seen me during my darkest times. Although I was excited to reconnect, since we’ve known each other for over 35 years and I hadn’t seen him since about 2009, and a visit was way overdue, I was also worried about potential talk of my illness. This is a topic and period of time that I really prefer not to revisit. It is very painful for me and retraumatizing whenever friends/psychiatrists/psychologists take me back to that time in my life.

So, Allan pulled up in front of my building on his very cool motorcycle. He was in town with his wife from Toronto visting his inlaws. We greeted each other with big smiles and hugs, as long lost friends do. Then, we just picked up where we left off, sharing stories of what we’d been up to, reminiscing about our pasts, etc., as we walked over for coffee.

Eventually, as we were laughing and sipping our hot beverages, the dreaded topic of my illness came up.

Allan inquired, “Do you remember anything about what you were like back then?”, referring to our last encounter in 2009.

“Some of it,” I replied with sadness. “But, I really don’t want to remember or discuss it as I find it way too traumatizing.”

Then, just like that, Allan nodded that he understood and changed the topic skillfully to some joyful memories and started sharing photos and we were laughing again.

I felt heard. I felt respected. He did not push the issue, even though I’m certain he had many questions for me about that period of time.

When we left the coffee shop, we went over to another local business to pick up some sandwiches for lunch. I know the owner, so I motioned towards my friend, saying, “This is my friend Allan, we haven’t seen each other in over 12 years.”

Allan interjected, “Actually, it’s been over 20 years!”

He decided that he would leave out the times when he’d seen me when I was not myself, saying instead that the last time he’d been with the “real, Anita” had been a long time ago, indeed.

I cannot tell you how much I appreciated Allan’s approach. It was heartwarming for me to have someone care for me so much that they did not want to retraumatize me, or evoke memories of what I was like when I was in the throes of severe mental illness. I really did not need to be reminded. It was horrendous enough the first time around. Who needs to revisit a time when they’d lost absolutely everything that was important to them?

Thank you so much, Allan, for the kindness and respect you displayed on that Mother’s Day weekend visit.

Until we meet again my friend!

A reunion during happier and healthier times. Allan and I at Little Victories Coffee, May, 2022.

Moving Forward After a Loss

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By Anita Manley

Sadly, many of us have experienced loss in our lifetime. Perhaps it was the breakup of a romantic relationship, moving away and losing a friendship, the death of a parent, a spouse or the tragic and untimely loss of a sibling or a child. Currently, due to pandemic restrictions, we are all (in some areas) losing our freedom: to connect with others, to hug and laugh with our friends and family, in-person. All of these losses are extremely challenging to live through.

I thought about writing this post while reading the book, “The Rainbow Comes and Goes” by Anderson Cooper and Gloria Vanderbilt. Anderson Cooper is quoted as saying (on page 85):

“I remember learning years ago that sharks have to keep moving forward to stay alive; it’s the only way they can force water through their gills and breathe. Ever since, that is how I’ve imagined myself: a shark gliding through dark, silent seas.”

Cooper lost his Dad, Wyatt, when he was only 10 years old and then lost his older brother, Carter, to suicide 10 years later.

As many of you know, I’ve experienced many losses as well. I experienced the loss of my beloved Dad when I was 32, followed by the loss of my mind (yes, really!), then a divorce, then the loss of access to my children and my ability to parent. Also, I was forced to go on long-term disability from work, I lost my housing, I lost most of my possessions including my cat and eventually my car; and the most hurtful: l lost communication with all my family and friends. Then in 2013, I lost my dear Mom.

Like Anderson Cooper, I grew up secure in the love of my parents. They believed in me, they asked for my opinions and listened to me, and most importantly–they loved me unconditionally. I carry that security and confidence with me today and I know that it has helped me through the many losses I’ve experienced in my lifetime. That, and the hope I held for a better future–a future where I would resurface stronger and more at ease.

Some tips I’ve learned along the way:

  1. Don’t give up! There are always better days ahead. This too shall pass.
  2. Take it one day at a time.
  3. Stay positive. Read inspirational quotes; use positive self-talk. Have an attitude of gratitude.
  4. Go at your own pace– but keep moving forward.
  5. Break your goals into bite-sized pieces. It’s not a race.
  6. Learn to live with disappointment–don’t let it stop you from moving forward.

I have a friend, Aubyn Baker-Riley, who tragically and horrifically lost her 14 month old son, Liam in a car accident. That was 27 years ago, and she remembers it like it was yesterday.

During my conversation with Aubyn, she passed along some tips to help move through a loss of this magnitude:

  1. Look for the helpers; the acts of human kindness that often come from those you’d least expect.
  2. Getting and giving peer support (through Bereaved Families of Ontario). Connecting with others who understand and have been there, helped her tremendously.
  3. Planning birthdays and anniversaries the way you want to spend the day–be it a spa day with a friend, alone or with family. You get to decide how you want to honour the loss of your loved one.
  4. Giving yourself permission to grieve, whatever that may look like–and people grieve differently.
  5. Be willing to ask for professional help. It does not mean you are weak. There are times when more help is needed to heal your emotional, spiritual, mental and physical self.
  6. Hold onto Hope. “It was a freak accident and it was not anyone’s fault. It was a terrible, tragic thing to happen–it was not the end of my story– I held onto hope for a brighter future.”

    For more about hope, stay tuned for next week’s GUEST BLOG.

    In the words of Dory from “Finding Nemo”- “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do? Just keep swimming.”
“Just keep swimming.” – Dory from “Finding Nemo”