Bodies

That’s the thing about being a breast cancer survivor — it’s always there: it never goes away. The scars, the fear that lurks in the back of your mind like a boogeyman. You’re going along nicely, living your merry life, and you’re fine, until you’re not.

As you've probably gathered by the explosion of pink everything, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And, while many people try to spread awareness with the best of intentions, there isn't anyone left on this planet who hasn't heard of breast cancer. Breast cancer patients need many things, but sharing silly Facebook statuses and engaging in other click-it-and-forget-about-it forms of awareness isn't one of them.

As you've probably gathered by the explosion of pink everything, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. And, while many people try to spread awareness with the best of intentions, there isn't anyone left on this planet who hasn't heard of breast cancer. Breast cancer patients need many things, but sharing silly Facebook statuses and engaging in other click-it-and-forget-about-it forms of awareness isn't one of them.

I can't decide which school of thought is more annoying. “Lose weight, get healthy, don't be a drain on society, and finally have the best, most perfect life once you're skinny!” or “Screw what people think! Be comfortable in your own skin! Don't ever change because change equals conformity!”

Part of the problem with not having a job is that there’s a constant feeling of instability. While working friends often comment that they wish they had the free time you currently have (the grass is always greener!), the lack of structure can make you feel a little out of control.

Far from being shy and retiring wallflowers, introverts can be just as successful, (Bill Gates, J.K. Rowling), proving that you don’t have to be the loudest, abrasive, or most domineering to stand out from the crowd!

Thanks to a number of different stressful factors, I was sent to the Centre For Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) emergency department recently at the "professional advice" (read: insistence) of my general physician. This all happened because I admitted to planning the care of my beloved cats in case I killed myself.

Here is the kicker. I am human. I treasure mental stability above all else. Therefore, I take my medications daily and sleep first. So what is a gal to do when my lifestyle is beginning to prohibit proper self-care? What tools can one find in their toolbox to really make time to ensure whole body care in addition to the mind?