Therapy is for everyone. No matter if you think you need it or not, we are all human and have things we need to work through. Therapy is a wonderful, and for me, lifesaving tool.
Growing up around the Thanksgiving dinner table, when asked what I was thankful for this year, my disability was never on the list.
It’s a question that hangs over my head like fog whenever the first symptoms start to emerge. Am I depressed again? In this post, I talk about the what ifs that surround me when it comes to a potential diagnosis. I monitor symptoms, research every possible cause, and panic at the inevitable truth—I have cancer.
January 27, A.K.A. Classy Glassy Day to my family in honour of my first prosthetic eye, is the day each year that I celebrate being cancer-free. Although I underwent a few rounds of precautionary chemotherapy after the final enucleation, this day will always be near and dear to my heart.
Starlight Serenade Sing, oh ye stars above! Sing upon this earth with love. Sing thy song with beauty inlaid Sing your starlight serenade. Sing to those who lie awake Sing for the brokenhearted’s sake. Sing a lullaby for those afraid Sing your starlight serenade.
For better or worse—and mark my words, it’s most often for worse—I am an all-or-nothing, idealistic pessimist. Just ask my therapist: I’m either a success or an utter failure.
On April 6, 2020, beloved Canadian children’s author, Jean Little, passed away at the age of 88, leaving behind a legacy of love and best sellers.
According to medical professionals, I’m blind. My optic nerve has been removed, my hazel eyes have been hand painted and my faithful sidekick is a cuddly, golden lab guide dog. I would say I qualify as a blind girl. I also struggle with depression and anxiety.