a conversation in cantonese

yesterday at the hospital, the wife of my client and myself had a long conversation in cantonese.
i don't speak cantonese.
~
Music to my ears: Fugazi - End Hits
Words to live by: "I learn what I believe as I hear myself speak" - Bill Murray

#20 burns in my mouth and my fingers smell like garlic

i missed out on homemade blueberry pie yesterday. damn detox.
i'm surprised at my willpower.
while everyone ate moroccan chicken and spiral honey ham, i ate salad and asparagus.
that's fine since i don't eat chicken or ham anyway.
a bottle of white wine was cracked and i smiled because i prefer red.
while everyone ate freshly baked cinnamon buns, my mouth watered and i looked away.
the blueberry pie, with its flaky crust, oh man, that flaky crust looked good...jon offered to eat some and then breathe on me. i laughed and declined.
but the coffee. oh the coffee. sitting in a house full of true coffee drinkers, a tear came to my eye.
but at least i fit into my jeans.
seems the self-restraint comes easier when there's a valid reason.
i should pretend i'm in detox all the time.

~
Music to my ears: Pointer Sisters - Jump (for my love) (don't laugh. i'm in a shared office and a crappy radio station is on)
Food for thought: still reading Milan Kundera, who is slowly becoming my new favourite author. right up there with Paul Auster.

detox day 2

i'm not hungry.
this is quite the miracle since all i have been eating for 2 days is fish, nuts, oils, brown rice (and related brown rice paper-like tasting stuff), fruits and vegetables...and these homeopathic UNDA drops taken sublingually that temporarily numb my mouth, like that first bite into a clorets eliminator gum.
so...not unlike my usual diet i guess, except for the eggs and yogurt and soy and wheat....and gum. (holy hell i have just realized the extent of my gum addiction).
and alcohol....and the coffee. oh the coffee.
oh man what i wouldn't give for one cup of java right now. even just a little, wee espresso. just to get that wonderful coffee bean taste on my tongue.
even a Timmy's coffee would do--it is roll up the rim time.
i'd give up the sauce for the rest of my life, even my precious vino, to be left with my caffeine fix.
this tea just isn't cuttin it.

~
Food for thought: Identity by Milan Kundera

In reality: When I'm walking down the street with headphones on, listening to my ipod which is sitting in my pocket and my cell phone starts ringing, this buzzing creeps me out.

a hicks-ian easter

I was over in Australia during easter, which was interesting. Interesting to note they celebrate Easter the same way we do; commemorating the death and resurrection of Jesus by telling our children a giant bunny rabbit, left chocolate eggs in the night.

Now, I wonder why we’re fucked up as a race, anybody? Anybody got any clues out there?

Where do you get this shit from you know? Why those two things you know? Why not ‘Goldfish left Lincoln Logs in your sock drawer’ you know? As long as we’re making shit up, go hog wild you know. At least a goldfish with a Lincoln Log on it's back goin' across your floor to your sock drawer has a miraculous connotation to it.

'Mummy, I woke today and there was a Lincoln Log in me sock drawer!'.

'That's the story of Jesus'.

Who comes up with this shit?! I’ve read the Bible. I can’t find the words ‘bunny’ or ‘chocolate’ anywhere in that fucking book.
==

I love the Pope, I love seeing him in his Pope-Mobile, his three feet of bullet proof plexi-glass. That's faith in action folks! You know he's got God on his side
==

A lot of Christians wear crosses around their necks. Do you think when Jesus comes back he ever wants to look at a fucking cross? It's kinda like going up to Jackie Onassis with a rifle pendant on.
==

(Bill Hicks is my hero)

a few random thoughts...

today, a man told me i was beautiful.
and then he proposed to me.
he has a traumatic brain injury, but still.
it was quite nice.
===
if i had to pick one thing i liked about children, it would be their complete naivete.
so oblivious, they'll talk to anybody.
she laughed and smiled and tried to understand the drunk man on the street car.
probably had no idea he was a man without a home.
didn't notice his smell.
probably didn't even care, even though her mother was chiding her. it was a different language than mine, but i knew what that mother was saying.
and she didn't even flinch. just kept on smiling. and listening.
and maybe making his day.
i think sometimes, we adults, should try to remember what that was like.
and incorporate a little child into our everyday interactions.
how would that fit into societal norms?
would we be deemed crazy? unfit? unwell?
mentally ill?

~
Music to my ears: Mark Lanegan's Whiskey for the Holy Ghost
Food for thought: Identity by Milan Kundera

the psychology of addiction: methadone vs suboxone

turns out, methadone isn't the greatest substitute for heroin as we once thought.
although it doesn't produce the euphoric effects of heroin, it produces the same physiological effects, hence the addictive nature of it...
obviously, this doesn't help with dependence...substitute one addictive drug for another.
suboxone is the new methadone.
well, new to Canadians (Europe has been using it for quite some time now...big surprise there...not only do we have a slower drug approval, we have less of a market for drugs...it always comes down to marketing)
suboxone has limited abuse potential because it blocks the euphoric effects of heroin.
you can't git it to someone who is high because the withdrawal effects could be deadly, but it would be useful in managing addictions.
if someone were to relapse and take a hit of heroin, it wouldn't work. they wouldn't get high.

~
Words to live by: "I realized that, unlike brains, ability, or newfound wealth, beauty is the one thing that transcends class. It felt like a profound revelation at the time, but in retrospect I had known it all along, atleast since I was old enough to read. After all, the Prince married Cinderella. He wasn't scouring the local villages for the wittiest gal, or the one who could play the meanest lute solo, or even the one of most noble birth. Snow White was well-born, yes, but I somehow doubt she would have fared so well with Prince Charming if she had been aptly named Porridge Gray or Eczema Red. And I suspect that somewhere out there in fairy-tale land, Sleeping Smarty-Pants is somnolently and vainly waiting for the tender kiss of a king's son." ~Elyse Friedman, author, Waking Beauty

today in psychology...

single, divorced or co-habitating women are more likely to use and abuse alcohol and/or drugs than married woman.
why? perhaps those women not fitting into societal norms of what women are supposed to be doing are highly stigmatized...which then leads to an increased likelihood of drinking or using drugs.
==
research has shown that women prefer counselors with better interpersonal skills and who are more empathic vs men who prefer a more problem-solving oriented style.
they say it's mostly because one of the major triggers for use is relationships or loss therefore one would assume there is a need for an increase in social support.
but just for women?

i would venture a guess to say that this research may already be outdated.
i think societal roles for men have changed somewhat and are not as strict with the machismo/bravado factor (of course, this still varies with cultures)...i think there is more of a balance in womens' and mens' needs with regards to empathy and support for loss

~
Music to my ears: Gutter Twins - Saturnalia

a new vision and orange tic tacs

i've decided that i love PMH.
although i love community health and mental health nursing, i've been leaning towards doing my first couple of years at the bedside (with some volunteer street health nursing clinics, of course)
but yeah...i've been thinking about neurosciences...and oncology did cross my mind.
i think it's been confirmed.
the nurses on 14A gave me a renewed faith in hospital based nurses.
i'm in.
~
Words to live by: "In the depths of winter I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” -Albert Camus

insufferably narcissistic

slow.news.day @ the kathedral

~
Current food for thought: Waking Beauty by Elyse Friedman
(a few years back...maybe like 7 years...i stumbled across a book by elyse friedman called Then Again and thought it was one of the smartest and funniest books i'd read in a long while...and i love finding great local authors...so i waited and waited for more, searching for her books, and nothing. then jon comes home the other night with this book--i'd obviously missed its release--and it's so absurdly funny in a social ideology darkness kinda way).

dark chocolate covered goju berries

at what point does avoidance cease to be a positive coping strategy?
with ptsd, one of the biggest symptoms is avoidance...for some, dissociating.
at the same time, it's also a coping strategy...if something is "triggering", avoid it. step away from the situation and move to a safe place, a place that will keep you grounded...keep you from having a flashback.
but when is avoidance no longer conducive to moving forward into recovery? at what point is avoidance used to not get any work done towards managing the illness?
because learning to manage and control a mental illness is hard work.
just a thought.

~
Music to my ears: Chris Clark
Words to live by: I used to think the human brain was the most fascinating part of the body and then I realized, "What is telling me that?" -Emo Phillips

dreams of candy and springtime

confetti
sulmona, l'aquila (AQ), italy

~
Music to my ears: Clint Mansell - soundtrack to The Fountain

enough snow for 321 snowmen

a random sampling of photos from my back door.

~
In reality: yes, yes, let's all listen to the UN and stop our harm reduction programs because of an INCB convention from 1988. nice work.
(the good thing about Smitherman is he recognizes that our city is grossly underserviced for care and treatment in mental health and addictions)

my vicarious return to the motherland

clearly vicarious is my word for this week.
plus i'm hungry for anchovy pizza.
these delicious pies were from a wonderful little restaurant in trastevere (rome)

~
Music to my ears: Beauty Pill
Words to live by: the leash is loose enough to feel like autonomy ~ Beauty Pill

In reality: it won't stop!
(pics to come tomorrow, after my foray out into the great canadian snowstorm this evening)

only the promise to try

i wish i had seen this sooner. that's what happens when you don't post regularly.
so from here on in, i vow to try to post daily (i'm not making any promises or anything).
but i hope whomever it was that was actually reading wasn't scared off by my lack of posts during this past year.
it's a whole different motivation when suddenly the thought of somebody else looking at this is in my head. it won't change what i have to say or how i say it, but it definitely makes me want to keep refreshing the site.

~
Music to my ears: slow.news.day

In reality: hell in a handbasket

vicarious trauma

this girl is one year younger than me and yet she seems 10.
yet sitting and listening to her, i shudder.
we share the same issues. the same financial stressors, the same relationship with food (bingeing and sneaking sweets or extra helpings...from who? don't know).
but i am on this side of the bed. in the chair. as if i'm the expert.
this is not to say i am more mature, or older in personality.
but, unlike her, i have no attachment issues.
there are stages in life which, at times, i struggled with. between these stages are periods of turmoil. (i am starting to see more and more why this theory appealed to me).
and i see how splitting from the parental units (for those of us blessed to have some) and becoming independent means having to create a sense of self. your own identity. it's confusing. i still struggle with the identity bit (i don't want to, but i do. maybe it's different when i'm aware of it?)
but breaking free can be stressful. especially when you're expected to live up to a social norm. or the norms are so embedded in your head that you truly believe there is no other way. when you don't fit into the mold, the ideology, you feel like a failure.

i've been there. i am there. still. sometimes.
what separates me from her? or her. or her...or her.
the fact that i don't think ending my life will solve it all. make it all go away.
i do cry sometimes when things don't work out, but i'm trying harder to laugh instead.
and although jon questioned me, and perhaps got frightened that i'm just going through every day coping with these stressors, i'm not. some days are worse than others.

and the fact that i know it. i know that i'm being pulled by society's strings. and i try hard to overcome that. and i have the most wonderful sounding board....who also likes to share after work pints of guinness and shots of jameson's.

~
Music to my ears: panda bear
Current food for thought: What is the What by Dave Eggers

In reality: No food for you
yeah, that's it...let's deal with our obesity problems by instead giving individuals mental health and affective disorders (ie: depression), because really, who cares about peoples' insides if they look good on the outside?

conversations with jon #543

conversations over a pint of guinness and a shot of jameson's...

me: "i see myself in them. it's scary. we're all like that a bit. we've all dealt with these issues. i think it just comes down to coping mechanisms. some of us find ways to cope and others don't"

j: "i hope you mean sometimes. that only sometimes you feel like you have to cope"

me: "i don't know. i mean we're dealt shit every day and some of us let it roll off like water off a duck's back, some of us stress out more but have coping strategies in place, and some people can't handle it and have a breakdown."

j: "if you're telling me that every day is just comprised of ways that you're coping with feeling shitty, then what am i doing here?"

a month too late

i'm always thinking about what the media is feeding our kids today and if we're breeding a stupid generation. the torontoist makes a good point.
we don't give the kids enough credit.
how could i ever believe that youth are as stupid as the media thinks they are?
it suddenly made me feel like a bitter old hag.