a mind dump of garble garble
(As the title of this newsletter suggests, this may go in a bunch of different directions, so grab that popcorn)
Maybe people know me better than myself? …
Over the past week, I’ve had no less than three people reach out, out of the blue, to see how I’m doing.
It’s one of those things where your guard goes up on instinct alone, and mentally, you have to pull it back down quickly enough not to let the defensiveness show.
“What do you mean?”
I assume that’s a standard answer for most who get asked such a question.
Truth is, it was a good time to take stock (and I knew it).
The answer? Not that great.
It’s just been kind of a downer lately above the shoulders and I’m not entirely sure why, but I can assemble some of the pieces to get a good idea.
There’s a part of the season of fall that I like. I appreciate nighttime a lot more. The crisp, cool air of it all for some reason reminds me of late nights at university, long before I stepped foot in college to become a reporter.
It’s symbolic. That’s about it.
But I don’t appreciate the decay that fall brings. It’s a bit depressing, and around these parts, it means that the only three or four months of the year where it is lush and hot are gone — and it’s going to be a while before they’re back.
I’m a big fan of winter, don’t get me wrong. Perhaps even more so now that I managed to lose a lot of weight last time out (only to do the reverse of what I’d normally do during summer and gain it all back).
Sigh.
That’s another piece of that puzzle. Weight loss hasn’t been where it needs to be and I know it.
You don’t have to watch the UFC to appreciate Chris Barnett, who weighed in a pound shy of the heavyweight limit of 265 pounds prior to his fight this past Saturday at Madison Square Garden.
If only I could move like this:
Chris gives me hope, and I take solace in that.
And this:
Legend.
It’s moments like this that make me less subconscious about being a larger man.
Barnett, whose nickname is ‘Beastboy’, is an exceptional human being by all accounts. He landed a wheel kick to the head of opponent Gian Villante, a proud New Yorker fighting in what was likely his last bout before retiring.
I’ve watched the UFC (and Pride before it) for going on 20 years. Octagon interviews, as they’re known in the UFC, are often for shoutouts or cutting promos, trying to make the case for the victor’s next opponent.
Barnett’s was different. He gave the floor to Villante, and made sure the crowd and MSG paid their respect.
After landing what will be a candidate for knockout of the year, Barnett was humble. We need more of that, and not just in the UFC.
Back to if I’m doing OK…
It’s been a rollercoaster over the past couple of weeks with work-related stuff. The Chicago Blackhawks sexual abuse scandal reached Winnipeg due to the connection with current Winnipeg Jets general manager Kevin Cheveldayoff.
I already wrote two newsletters about that, so I’m not going to say anything about it here.
But the whole situation is just sad. It highlighted yet another instance where hockey sucks. I miss the days being a young kid, just happy to watch the game not knowing anything about its inner workings and all the scars within.
It was nice to get out to watch the Winnipeg Ice on Sunday, write a story about a bunch of kids trying to make it to the NHL.
Those players just tell it to you straight. There’s very little PR there. They just talk and you listen.
Going back to the UFC, that’s one of the best things I’ve found getting to cover it… the access.
Fighters are cut from a different cloth. Martial arts teaches a lot about respect and humility. Not everyone waltzes around like Conor McGregor. And there is the element of needing to sell yourself so the Pay-Per-View buys come in to help the paycheck.
But for as violent as they can be when the door on the cage closes, they’re generally great people.
When the UFC was last in Winnipeg, I shot the shit with Rafael dos Anjos, the former UFC lightweight champ while he stood outside the Matt Frost Media Centre in the basement of Canada Life Centre.
No handlers around. No one telling you it’s your last question. Just a wholesome conversation that never made it to any page in the newspaper. Just two humans talking.
Good times.
The state of hockey, and this has nothing to do with access per se, just feels a bit abysmal. It needs a change, the culture, that is.
But it extends to quote-unquote real life as well.
It’s been a bit of a bleak worldview lately.
You know, watching a well-respected quarterback Aaron Rodgers feeding line after line of anti-vaxx rhetoric after flat-out lying about his vaccination status.
And then here comes former NHLer Mike Fisher to his aid, as if the intense scrutiny of his life-threatening stance needed help.
This fucking pandemic, man…
People won’t think twice about popping an Advil or chowing down on that processed cheese, but a life-saving vaccine?
#notinmybody
My wife has probably lost track and found a way to drown out my, at times, daily venting sessions.
Yeah, it lives rent-free. Bastards.
Where was I?
Oh yeah, how am I doing…
If you’ve gotten this far then you probably have come to a reasonable conclusion.
It’s been a slog.
Mentally, I’m just exhausted.
I reporter colleague posted a tweet lamenting how their loved one couldn’t find timely access to therapy.
I wrote about this in a past newsletter with regards to Carey Price. (I should link to that, my brain tells me).
OK, here it is.
That tweet broke my heart. Who knows where I might be right now without access to therapy.
This damn pandemic has made it so much harder to access it. As I said in the Price piece, even trying to get my own appointment with my therapist of more than a decade has been difficult. I got in lately only a cancellation, but at the time I booked, I had a two-month wait.
And I feel for my therapist, who has had to turn people away due to demand. It’s a hard fucking job to listen to other people’s shit all day. They had to do it for their self-preservation.
Long ago, I wanted to be a therapist. I have three years of psychology under my belt at the University of Manitoba. It just sits there. I learned a lot; most importantly, that I don’t think I could do it.
There are just so many barriers in the way for people to access help. Therapists, their precious time and money will be on the list.
I’d probably go once a week right now if it didn’t mean nearly $500 a month that I don’t have (although if I didn’t eat, I could go to therapy and lose weight).
Light bulb moment!
Jokes aside, it’s tough.
And when you’re in therapy for a while, at least in my experience, you spend multiple sessions dissecting something that’s eating away in your mind.
Lately, I’ve found I keep introducing a new parasite, as it were. Something else I need to figure out.
That, in and of itself, is a bit of a downer. You’d love sometimes to just rectify one issue before introducing three more.
Life ain’t easy.
This pandemic has created so many issues from a mental health standpoint and there just aren’t the resources available to help.
And that’s a shitty feeling, as someone who tries to do a sliver of advocacy, even if it’s just droning on in this newsletter.
So I’m managing at the moment, which is the best way to answer the questions people asked.
Sometimes you just have to manage. Life doesn’t figure itself out on your watch.
I realize that’s entirely easy for me to say, as I have a foundation of coping skills (and pills).
I have tremendous empathy for those who haven’t got there yet.
As many of you will know, I keep my DMs open on Twitter. I opened them when I began covering the pandemic 19 months ago for people to get (at least back then) a timely answer to questions regarding rules and regulations.
But it’s evolved into a space for people to vent. I try to respond, but I’m not a therapist. Some tell me I don’t need to say a word, and they’re just happy for the outlet to get it off their chest.
I feel that.
If that’s you — and I sound like a baptist pastor prior to an altar call — feel free to slide into them and say what you gotta say.
That’s what I can offer, along with this newsletter which got a bit off track in recent days.
And if you need help today, right now, these can help.
The Mental Health Crisis Response Centre in Winnipeg is a central point of access for adults experiencing a mental health crisis, accessible 24 hours a day, seven days a week within an atmosphere that promotes healing and recovery. For more information call 204-940-1781.
Klinic Suicide Prevention and Support Line
24/7 Crisis support and intervention
Phone: 204-786-8686 or toll-free: 1-866-322-3019
Mobile Crisis Service
The Mobile Crisis Service assists individuals experiencing a mental health or psychosocial crisis, including persons with a co-occurring mental health / substance use disorder
Phone: 204-482-5376 or toll-free: 1-877-499-8770
Connect with a trained, volunteer crisis responder for support any time
Text Services: Text “CONNECT” to 686868
Phone 24/7 by calling 1-800-668-6868
Macdonald Youth Services Crisis Services
MYS offers a range of FREE crisis supports to help stabilize youth, while also ensuring emotional, physical and cultural safety and wellness for everyone in the home
Supports include youth crisis stabilization units, individual and family therapy, school support and much more
24-hour Crisis Line: 204-949-4777 or toll-free: 1-888-383-2776
Hope North Recovery Services for Youth
Crisis support and intervention available in the Northern Health Region for youths 17 and under
Phone: 204-778-9977, Monday – Friday, 11:45 am – 12:00 am (midnight)
Alright, I barfed all over my keyboard and this is the result.
Be well, and know you’re not alone in your struggle. That might be the most important thing to remember, or write down and keep someplace where you can see it.
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If you’ve enjoyed this newsletter/blog/mind dump and want to express your gratitude, I’ve set up this PayPal tip jar. Some have asked if they can buy me a coffee or just fire a couple of bucks my way, which I’m extremely appreciative of. The support means a lot, in any fashion. Thank you for all the comments and emails.