Sammy Gets Happy

Tag: Humour

  • On Wednesdays, we don’t eat – the surprising benefits of fasting

    This might be the most controversial topic I get into on here (although I do like the word cunt, and that seems to do the trick too), so here we go!  Onto the greatest of all time hack for mental health to ever enter my life.  

    This is where mindfulness entered the fray and my anger really subsided.  This is where I learned that my anxiety could be rooted in more than just past trauma, but in my day to day choices.  This is where I learned I am so much stronger than I previously thought (and I already thought I was pretty damn strong).

    This is where I learned about extended fasting and its positive effects on the brain.  

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  • Get a therapy cat they said, it will be fun they said – How a fluffy orange menace nearly destroyed a marriage

    Grief is a funny thing.  I acted in ways I never had previously all because my brother died.  Maybe that’s why I decided to gamble on the following action and the pros really weren’t worth the cons.  I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I never once claimed to be smart and the next entry will be solid evidence to back my claim.

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  • Cognitive Behavioural Therapy – AKA the hardest thing I’ve ever done 

    After a very public meltdown and coming to terms with the fact I wasn’t dealing with the death of my sibling in a healthy way, I finally started therapy.  Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (“CBT”) to be exact.  CBT had been suggested to me previously for something seemingly unrelated (and in candid conversation which should have been a waving red flag I may not have been operating as well as I thought I was in the past). 

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  • Part 2 of 2 – Poorly managed depression/anxiety disorder, meets PPD

    In last weeks blog post post I talked about my past thoughts on medications, a tipping point of needing them regardless of what the fuck I thought, and finally talking to my doctor about getting a prescription for an antidepressant. 

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  • Poorly Managed Depression and Anxiety Disorder, meet PPD

    I grew up seeing sickly grandparents on handfuls of medication that kept them (barely) living and I knew from a young age that I needed to take better care of myself to avoid turning into them.  Doing things that swerved heart disease and type 2 diabetes were high on my list of priorities, but I also never wanted to take any kind of mood-stabilizers that always seemed to have a laundry list of potential side affects (ironically including suicide), or have them change me fundamentally as a person (even though the person I was, kind of sucked). 

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  • Happy Birthday to ME! & first drafts of a Cynic’s Guide to Mindfulness (and being less of a miserable prick)

    They say you are only as old as you feel and as I write this post I have an ice pack securely attached to my right knee following a soccer game – so coincidentally, today I feel old as fuck.  

    In addition to another year older, this birthday in particular marks my first writing achievement I set out for myself a few months back when I first came out of my most recent depression fog.  Life was hard following a few shitty things that happened to the people in my life I love (and I was a very selfish person, so the list of people I even like, never mind love is small), which eventually prompted a leave of absence from work.  

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