YouAreEnough

Today has been a really frustrating day.

I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m disappointed, and I feel really let down. I needed to shed tears, and I reached a point where I simply couldn’t hold back my anger and disappointment either. And honestly, I know I have every right to feel this way.

But I’m just not ready to talk about it. What I do know is that what happened today has left me struggling tonight to find the good in today.

Since January 1st, I’ve made a commitment to myself to write down one good thing from every single day. Every day. Even on the hardest days. Even when life feels heavy. Even when I have to dig really, really deep to find something worth writing down.

Today, though, I’m really struggling.

But maybe that’s the point.

This commitment was never about pretending every day is good. It was never about forcing positivity onto days that are anything but positive. It was about reminding myself that even on the days that hurt, there is something worth holding onto.

So tonight, I’m digging deep.

Maybe today’s good thing isn’t a happy moment or something that went right.

Maybe it’s simply that I allowed myself to feel what I was feeling. I let myself be angry. I let myself be sad. Disappointed. Frustrated. And I’m still here, still trying, and still looking for that one little bit of good.

Some days, finding one good thing feels effortless.

Other days, it feels like work.

Today is one of those days.

And maybe the fact that I’m still searching counts as my one good thing.

Wouldn’t you agree?

Twelve years ago today, Robin Williams tragically took his own life. A day that is forever ingrained in my mind.

I’ve shared the story of that evening many times before, but I believe it’s an important one to keep telling.

I was just four months into my own mental health journey the night Robin died. Moments before I read the news of his passing on my phone, I had been sitting alone in my car, in a dark parking lot, my family and friends having no idea of my whereabouts (once again), contemplating my own suicide.

It wasn’t the first time during those four months that I had thought about suicide, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time I would think about it or act upon those thoughts. But suddenly, for the first time, I began to truly understand the depths of my illness.

As the news of Robin’s death quickly spread, friends and family began texting and calling, worried about my safety and wellbeing. The easiest solution, in my mind, was to shut off my phone and silence the noise from the outside world.

By then, I was visibly shaken, alone, scared and suicidal. And my only thought, shortly after the initial shock, was:

“If someone of Robin Williams’ stature, who seemingly had it all, who always ‘looked’ happy, could take his own life, then what the heck am I waiting for?”

The truth is, we have no idea what someone else is truly thinking or feeling. We can’t see inside another person’s mind, and we can’t always tell the difference between what a healthy brain is telling us and what a depressed brain is convincing us to believe.

I often wonder what Robin would be doing today if he were still here.

Would he be performing a new stand-up show on stage to a sold-out crowd somewhere, making them laugh until they peed? Maybe he’d be working on another movie or lending his unmistakable voice to some new, outrageous character.

Maybe by now, he would have retired from show business altogether, choosing a quieter life with the people he loved, while lending his voice to a bigger purpose or cause.

I think about how many more lives he might have touched over these past twelve years if, in that dark and unshakable moment, he had been able to see through the clouds. If he had reached out to someone he loved and simply said, “I’m not okay.”

Trust me when I tell you, those are three of the hardest words to say out loud.

Robin didn’t reach out that night, and that dark, unshakable moment took him from the world.

A world that still needed him.

Robin’s passing is a reminder that kindness, laughter and a smile don’t always mean someone is okay inside. It’s also a reminder that we need to check in, reach out and stay connected, not just when someone tells us they’re struggling, but especially when they don’t.

Depression lies.

No amount of money, fame, success or laughter can simply silence those lies. Depression wants us to believe that tomorrow doesn’t need us. And some days, it is really, really hard to convince ourselves otherwise.

But one thing I know for certain is this:

Tomorrow still needed Robin Williams.

And tomorrow still needs you.

So please, check in. Ask the uncomfortable question. Pick up the phone. Sit beside someone. And if you’re the one struggling, please know that saying “I’m not okay” isn’t weakness. It’s an invitation to let someone help carry what feels impossible to carry alone.

If you or someone you know is struggling or in crisis, please call or text 9-8-8 in Canada/US.

Yesterday was a long day, but one filled with so many meaningful and joyful moments.

My day started at Shabbat morning services, something I’ve been doing quite regularly since my mom passed away in January. I hadn’t been in many weeks. Not since Maggie’s passing at the end of June or my accident a few weeks later, both of which happened on Saturday mornings this summer.

Even though it’s the same building I walk into every day for work, entering the sanctuary yesterday felt different. I was greeted by so many warm hugs, smiles and genuine expressions of happiness that I was back. I felt the emotion almost immediately, and it was hard to hold back the tears.

But they were good tears. The kind that come from feeling loved, cared for and reminded that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

No one there could still see what I had looked like on the outside just a couple of weeks ago (although some did have the pleasure), like I’d lost a boxing match. But these days, I’m incredibly self-conscious about my smile and the fact that I’m missing teeth. I know in my heart that nobody is judging me, but it’s something I’m learning to navigate in my own way.

Still, it felt good to be there. A safe space to pray, connect and simply be. I’m really glad I went.

After services and lunch, we headed home to change and get ready for the next part of the day, Niagara-on-the-Lake’s annual Peach Festival. 🍑

Traffic slowed us down A LOT, so by the time we arrived, we were quite rushed and couldn’t take it all in the way we’d hoped. But we did manage to bring home some pretty amazing, locally grown, and very juicy peaches. Sadly, they’re not exactly on my menu right now unless they make their way into a smoothie.

Then it was off to Niagara Falls for a quick bite before heading to Fallsview Casino for an evening of laughter and fun. For Father’s Day, the kids bought Rich tickets to see Nikki Glaser, and she did not disappoint. We laughed A LOT. Her opening act was great too.

By the time we made the hour-and-a-half drive home, I could feel the exhaustion catching up with me, physically, mentally and emotionally. And, of course, my mouth seemed to take the biggest hit. The pain felt extra intense.

I’m still healing, and sometimes I forget just how much my body has been through. I forget how quickly I can become tired, achy and emotionally drained.

Today, we had planned to go for a hike. The weather was perfect, but my body was telling me something different. So, I chose rest.

Sadie reaped the benefits by having a fun and exhausting playdate instead, and, in turn, I got a playdate, too. 🐶

And maybe that’s exactly what I needed, not another adventure, but a little time to simply slow down, breathe, laugh and let myself be cared for.

Healing doesn’t always look like moving forward.

Sometimes, healing looks like knowing when to stop.

Three weeks ago tonight, my unthinkable accident happened. It’s hard to believe that three weeks have already passed.

On a positive note, the swelling and bruising on my face have completely cleared up, and remarkably fast, too. For that, I’m incredibly grateful.

But now, as I wait for the next steps and answers about what will become of my teeth and gums, it’s my mental health that needs my undivided attention. Still several more weeks ahead of me with a very limited diet of soft foods and liquids until the wire holding everything together can safely be removed. I’m trying to decide what meal I want to eat first when this is behind me. I think it’s an easy one: a big plate of nachos with extra cheese 🧀.

So much is still up in the air, and I’m trying my best not to think about the “what’s to come” stage until I actually have to. For someone like me, who lives with severe anxiety and chronic depression, that is much easier said than done. My mind can very quickly take one unknown and turn it into a hundred different worst-case scenarios. I’m trying not to let the uncertainty get more power than it deserves right now. This strategy isn’t necessarily working, but I’m trying my best! I know, for my mental health that I just have to focus on what’s in front of me and let tomorrow wait until it arrives.

My mouth is still in a lot of pain. My bottom lip remains swollen due to the numerous abscesses along the inside of my lip. My three teeth that they saved (for now) are extremely sensitive to touch, which is also worrying me more than I can probably put into words. I’m scared that some of the teeth they were hoping to save may not be able to be saved after all. The wire itself is incredibly irritating, and the roof of my mouth is still very sore and irritated as well.

And then, because apparently my mouth needed one more thing to deal with… today I had to visit an urgent care clinic because a couple of the “dissolvable” stitches I received in Emerg three weeks ago decided they had no intention of dissolving.

I was told by the doctor that they should dissolve within about a week, and thankfully, most of them did. But over the past few days, I noticed the area where the remaining stitches were had started becoming increasingly irritated, with redness that looked to be spreading. Of course, I panicked.

After the doctor in urgent care examined me, a nurse came and removed the remaining stitches. The doctor said it was a good thing I came in. Now I just need to keep the area clean and watch it closely so that, like the rest of me, it can finally begin to heal.

Three weeks in. Still healing. Still waiting. Still trying to take it one day at a time.

And honestly, some days, that’s all I can do.

Wishing you all a peaceful and restorative Shabbat and weekend ahead.

Shabbat Shalom. ❤️

Always one of my favourite nights of the summer. 💙

I’ve been waiting all summer long for tonight, and I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from making it to the concert in the park.

There’s just something about ABBA’s music. It invites me to be fully present, to sing along, move to the music, and simply soak in the moment. For a little while, everything else fades into the background.

My emotions have been running high lately, understandably, and yes… a few tears were shed tonight. They were the kind of tears that remind you music has a way of reaching places words never can.

A stranger noticed my tears and took a moment to check in on me. We shared a brief conversation that reminded me of something we so easily forget, we never really know what someone else is carrying. A few words of kindness or encouragement can make more of a difference than we realize.

I’m grateful for the music, the warmth of the summer evening, the incredible vibes, and that unexpected reminder of the goodness that still exists in people.

Tonight was exactly what my soul needed. 🎶

#SummerConcert #ABBA #ConcertInThePark #FindingJoy #ChooseKindness #summernights #mammamia #dancingqueen #mentalhealth @abbarevisited

Some evenings feed you in ways that have nothing to do with the meal.

Last night, I met up with a very special group of ladies who have been part of my story since the day I was born. Together, they’ve watched me grow up, celebrated so many of life’s milestones with me, and helped shape some of the childhood memories I cherish most. They may be family friends by definition, but to me, they have always been family.

Truthfully, I almost postponed… again. I’d already had to cancel a couple of weeks ago after my accident, and with my mouth still healing, eating is anything but easy these days. But I didn’t want to wait until things were easier because, with a long road to recovery ahead, that could feel like forever.

If I’ve learned anything over this past year, it’s that tomorrow isn’t promised, and there will always be reasons to put things off. Life gets busy. We tell ourselves, “We’ll do it another time.”

But some people are worth making time for.

While I couldn’t enjoy my meal the way I’d hoped, I was nourished in other ways, through laughter, familiar faces, and the comfort of being with people who have known me through every chapter of my life.

Sometimes healing happens around a dinner table. Making space for the people who know our history, celebrate our joys, carry us through our struggles, and remind us who we are is always worth it.

I came home with a full heart, grateful for the kind of love that stands the test of time and for the people who remind us that, no matter how much life changes, some connections never do.

And right now, that’s exactly the kind of nourishment I needed.

This past Saturday was National Sunflower Day. 🌻 We already had plans that day, but with today being a holiday, we intentionally set aside the day for sunflowers.

Every summer, I find myself drawn to sunflower fields. There is something almost sacred about standing among endless rows of golden blooms, each one lifting its face toward the sun as if holding tightly to the promise of a brighter tomorrow. They stand unapologetically tall, imperfections and all. Maybe that’s why they’ve always been my favourite flower.

A few weeks ago, I came across a sunflower farm on social media, one we hadn’t been to before. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Today, with the sunflowers finally in full bloom, we went. Twenty-six acres of breathtaking sunflowers, a peaceful 1.5 km walking trail, countless opportunities to pause for photos, a fun scavenger hunt, and beautiful mental health messages thoughtfully placed throughout the fields. At the end of the trail, we each got to pick our very own sunflower to take home. And best of all, every visit helps support the Canadian Mental Health Association. What could be more perfect? It didn’t even matter how muddy we got due to all the rain we had yesterday.

Today was the reminder I needed to slow down and appreciate the beauty that surrounds us. Like the sunflower that instinctively turns toward the sun, I was reminded to keep turning toward hope, gratitude, and faith, even when the path ahead feels uncertain.

Right now, my own path feels filled with uncertainty and so many unanswered questions about my recovery. I’m feeling more mentally and physically drained than I can remember. Taking time to step outside, soak up a little sunshine, breathe deeply, and immerse myself in nature was exactly what my heart needed. And as a little bonus, I found the most beautiful ring, sunflowers wrapped around my favourite affirmation: I am enough.

On our way home, we stopped at one of our favourite roadside burger joints. I got a milkshake. Milkshakes have quickly become my latest recovery obsession. It was the perfect ending to a very busy long weekend filled with simple moments of joy before another very busy week begins (at least it’s a short one!).

Nature truly is one of the greatest places to heal, recharge, and remember that even after the darkest days, we can still turn toward the light. 🌻

@kadylacksunflowers @cmha @champburger #sunflowers #iamenough #nationalsunflowerday #mentalhealth #depression #anxiety

Went to see the oral surgeon for a follow-up today to check the area where part of my tooth fell out earlier this week and to discuss next steps. However, next steps are still very uncertain and kind of in limbo right now, or for at least the next month until the wire across my teeth can be removed. The swelling and bruising is almost all gone on my face though, and my mouth is healing a little more each day, but for my mental health, it’s best I don’t look inside. I’m still in a great deal of pain and experiencing constant headaches. He prescribed a muscle relaxant to take before bed, with the hope that it will give my jaw some much-needed relief.

Within the next few weeks, I’ll need to see a dentist to assess my progress and determine when the wire can safely be removed. Until then, we simply won’t know if the remaining teeth will survive or what the final treatment plan will look like.

What we do know is that the two teeth that didn’t make it will need to be removed from the root, followed by implants. As for the other three teeth, they could require root canals, crowns, bridges, veneers…it’s anyone’s guess right now and I am extremely overwhelmed at this point in time. No decisions can be made until the wire comes off, and as I stated above, nor is the surgeon certain those remaining teeth will even make it.

So for now, it’s at least another month of soup, applesauce, popsicles, soft foods, protein drinks, and pain management.

I can’t thank you all enough for the continued check-ins, well wishes, prayers, and special deliveries. Your kindness has meant more than you’ll ever know.

I’m grateful for the long weekend ahead, a chance to focus on some much-needed self-care, spend time in nature, admire the sunflowers, catch up with friends, and celebrate love with a beautiful bride-to-be. I kicked off the weekend with a well-deserved haircut.

Wishing everyone a peaceful and restful weekend.

Shabbat Shalom. ❤️

After giving myself some time to focus on my healing and trauma from the very visible aftermath of my fall; it was time to start addressing the other half of the equation that has been lingering on the minds of many concerned friends, loved ones and my dental team.

Today I met with my family doctor to begin searching for any possible answers as to why did I faint without any warning?

Although this was by far the most devastating fainting episode I’ve ever experienced, I’m actually no stranger to fainting. Over the course of my adult life, there have been several occasions when I’ve lost consciousness. The difference is that every single one of those episodes came with warning signs, and I could always point to a likely cause; an antidepressant I was taking that caused dizziness, struggles with an eating disorder in my early twenties, a horrible bout of the flu with a very high fever, and in 2020, as many of you know, just prior to the pandemic, a severe panic attack that led to fainting four times in a matter of minutes and a concussion which followed.

This time was different.

There was no panic attack. No obvious trigger in the moment. No warning. One second I was lying down on my couch with a sudden urge to throw up, trying to make it to the bathroom, and the next thing I know, I am waking up face down on the hallway floor in a pool of blood, with injuries that changed everything.

My doctor explained that there are several possible reasons this could have happened, and the first step is a referral to a cardiologist. While I know there may be more tests, more appointments, and perhaps more waiting ahead, I also know I need to find out if there’s an underlying reason this happened. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering if, or when, it could happen again.

In the meantime, I’ve already made changes of my own. Although my diet is still limited while my mouth heals, I’m being extremely diligent about eating on a regular schedule. Because that night appeared to begin with becoming overly hungry and acid building up in my stomach which led to two episodes of vomiting earlier in the evening, I’m doing everything I can to avoid ever getting to that point again. It’s one small thing I can control while I wait for answers.

Healing isn’t just about repairing what’s broken on the outside. Sometimes it’s about having the courage to search for answers to what we can’t see. For now, I’ll keep taking things one appointment, one step, and one day at a time, trusting that each one brings me a little closer to understanding what happened that night.

Yesterday was one month since you left us, Maggie. How has it been a month already? 💔🐾

I still look for you every morning when I wake up and every night when it’s time to go to bed, hoping you’ll come curl up beside me one more time. I still glance at your favourite spots, certain for a fleeting moment that I’ll see you there. And every time I sit down for dinner, I still expect you to appear, hoping for a little taste of whatever I’m eating.

So much has happened since you’ve been gone. I keep thinking about everything that happened to me last weekend, and I know you would have been right there, gently reminding me that I wasn’t alone. You always seemed to know exactly when I needed you most.

A month has passed, but my heart is still searching for you.

I miss you every single day, sweet girl.  ❤️🌈🐾