Originally intended to simply focus on book reviews, over time, KaliDesautelsReads has morphed into its own entity.
I write about issues that are near to my heart, be they political, feminist, motherhood, mental health, or, as the title holds, books.
A thirty-something Canadian woman in my mid-thirties, I have been “super married” to my high school sweetheart since 2006, and together we have two crazy, clever, kind, hilarious, wonderful kids.
My first book – How Not To Blog: Finding Myself, One Post at a Time is available on Amazon (in eBook formats for you clever tech readers, and paperback for those of us who love that new book smell!)
I have tried a podcast – it’s still on Apple and Google Podcasts – but writing is where my heart is.
My life changed dramatically when my husband was diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer in 2018, and I am now a writer for a leading Canadian Cancer Non-Profit.
I am lucky enough to have a family that loves me and pushes me to be my best, even if it is outside of my cushiony comfort zone. I have a village of friends that nourish me, mentally, and spiritually.
Welcome to my thoughts. Sit down. Stay a while. Enjoy a cup of coffee!
“And the deal with so many chronic illnesses is that most people won’t want to believe you. They will tell you that you look great, that it might be in your head only, that it is likely stress, that everything is okay. None of these are the right things to say to someone whose entire existence is a fairly consistent torture of the body and mind. They say it because they are well-intentioned usually, because they wish you the best, but they also say it because you make them uncomfortable. Your existence is evidence of death. . . .” ~ PorochistaKhakpour quote from Sick: A Memoir.
My kid is my brother’s mini me. He adores and idolizes his uncle Ty, and this week he turns 10. Today, he got to spend the whole day with his favourite person, eating all the sugar and checking out the awesome comics.
I am so grateful to have a brother who loves his nephew so much that he would spend the day with him to make him smile. I am also so grateful that my boy takes after my brother, so when he does things that confuse me, I just text Ty and get some idea how to handle it.
Thank you, Ty. You really are the Cool Uncle, and I’m glad he has such a great example to look up to.
Happy Wednesday! Is anyone else feeling a bit like this charging station right now? Without much hope of recharging after a loooong January?
It’s crazy how we can put so much effort into our new year’s resolutions that we forget that one of them was to take more time to rest and recharge. If you are going full out right now, and can’t seem to find a place to recharge your batteries, may I suggest that tonight is a good night to take a few minutes (or hours) to yourself? Take a bath. Read a book. Watch 6 episodes of something on Netflix, or Frozen for the 90th time on Disney+. Bake a cake. Drink a bunch of water. Go to yoga. Go to the gym. Put on a Jillian Michaels’ exercise video and yell back at her that you don’t care about your hipbones in skinny jeans. Anything that will help you get through the rest of your week/month/season.
I have not slept in 2 days. My sinuses are mad, my brain is mad, I’m exhausted and cold… so what am I doing at 6:45pm? I’m snuggling in with some NyQuil and Gabrielle Bernstein’s book, and going to bed. Fingers crossed that the universe really does have my back and miracle of miracles, I manage to sleep!!
My girl spent the weekend with her Memere while the rest of us convalesced, and as usual they knocked my socks off with the creations they made. (Figuratively… if you know me, you know I don’t wear socks. Ever.)
This kid decided that she wanted to try making macarons. So they freaking did it. No lessons, nothing, just the two of them, a recipe and A LOT of patience. I feel lack after my complete lack of interest in crafting, I am glad I was able to provide my mom with a granddaughter that shared the same interests as her. The best part?? These things are ACTUALLY macarons! They have the taste and texture of macarons! They have blueberry purée and frosting in the centre and are flipping to die for!!
She is talented and amazing, and I cannot believe she is my kid.
My goal for 2018 was to not be late for literally everything all of the time. My goal for 2019 was to get Dave through cancer. My goal for 2020 is to learn and deeply understand my financials.
Each of these has been daunting. I spent the first 35 years of my life running late, so I wasn’t sure I could handle it. The cancer diagnosis was the scariest thing I had ever bumped into in my life. And now, figuring out how to manage my money, and to get back on track after a very challenging year, and let’s face it, many years of me having a deep seated fear of dollars and cents. For Christmas, I was given the first two books – The Feminist Financial Handbook, and Broke Millennial – and as of today, have finished them both. Worry-Free Money has been eying me from my bookcase for quite a while now, gathering dust; it is now next on the list. As with anything, the best way for me to learn something is to read everything that I can get my hands on, so this year will be all about the financials.
You are 30 today. My very first friend who was born in the ‘90s. You are hunting down coffee in the city of light and waiting to experience all the beauty of our favourite city on the earth. We shared so much in 2019, most of it tearful and hard, but some of it also the most beautiful moments of the year. Years ago, you tattooed « She believed she could, so she did. » to your left side rib, and as you enter your 30th year, I know you can and you will. I am grateful to have you as my friend, and I can never thank you enough for all the times that you held my hand not just last year, but in all the years I have been blessed to know you. I believe that 2020 will bring beautiful, amazing things, forged in the fire of 2019. I believe that stepping into your 30th year in your favourite place with your favourite people is a harbinger of what is in front of you. I believe that your strength, physical and emotional, is an example to other women. I believe that you will succeed. I believe that you will find your path. I believe you can, and I know you will.
Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for Wanderlust and spa days and crying and laughing and blockbuster and geeking out and yoga and books and wine and kindness and laughter and coffee and hotels and bathrobes and Seth/Snoop and tiktok and new moons and Instagram and selfies and dancing and lipstick and all the other tiny things that make you you and that I have to joy of sharing with you. Haaappy 30th birthday. I really, really love you.
This is something that I have actively worked at doing. It was a recommendation from one of my previous therapists, to stop feeling guilty and ashamed all of the time.
I am not sure how the people around me have taken the shift, but it has helped me to develop a stronger and more confident sense of self. And since I can only control my own actions and beliefs, and have no control over how others receive those actions, I can only continue to offer gratitude and to refuse to apologize for things that are either out of my control, or things I shouldn’t have felt sorry for in the first place.
I posted a bit about my current mental state in my blog early this morning (late last night?) – if you are curious, follow the link in my profile. When you are feeling depressed and overwhelmed, your immune system suffers. So, I had a flu a couple of weeks ago… now I have a sinus infection. Luckily, my grandmother made a delicious veggie stew that went down pretty well ❤️
You know what is a great documentary series to watch when you are sick? Pandemic by Netflix. It totally reminds you why you should keep your damn germs to your own damn self.
This is not the most coherent post in the history of the world. Look at the soup. It’s all about the pictures anyway.
Today, I cried. I cried yesterday. I cried the day before that. In the past week, I have cried at least once a day. No particular reasons, just mid-thought, mid-text, mid-song, mid-sentence my eyes prickle, as the tears form, my throat thickens and feels tight, and I cry.
Today, I was tired. I was tired yesterday. I was tired the day before that. In the past week, I have been tired most of the day. Bone tired. Brain burning, exhausted, sleep on the train tired.
Today, I had a headache. I had a headache yesterday. I had a headache the day before that. In the past week, I have had a headache nearly every day. An ice pick through my eye, neck tightening, pulsing headache.
No. No. No, there is nothing wrong. Things are getting better. My husband is healing. My kids are happier. I work for a non-profit doing good work, with a team of bright, brilliant women across the country. I have not been hiding in my bed. I went dancing with my friends. I went to a meditative soundbath with another friend. I have done yoga. I have spent time with my kids. I have eaten healthful foods. I have gone for walks. I have prayed. I have journaled. I have worked. I have read. I have taken my meds. I have done all the things that a person is supposed to do to stave off depression.
And yet. And yet, today I cried. Today, I was tired. Today, I had a headache. Today, I am listening to sad songs and cannot sleep. Today, I feel exhausted to the very marrow of my body. My medications are doing their jobs, but I am depressed. My antidepressant is no match for the soul searing hole that is depression. My antidepressant keeps me from dying in that hole, but it cannot keep me out. This depression feels familiar. It is not by any means welcome, but it is familiar. It slipped through the door that was left open when the grief came in.
My grief showed up unannounced last weekend. It knocked and without thinking, I let it in. Last weekend, I recognized that grief needed to come in for me to heal. To heal from a year of pain and fear. To heal from so many losses. To heal from the relief that I did not lose my best friend in the process. To rebuild a new, stronger life. As I sat with my friends, the tears began to burn and I escaped to the bathroom, recognizing that grief and depression had both made their presence known. After making my goodbyes, I sat in my car and sobbed. I sobbed and I sobbed until I did not think I could sob anymore.
The headache crept in after the sobbing, making the most of the opportunity to burrow into my brain. The headache allowed grief and depression to take the foreground, while it sat back and created a visual of an ice pick stabbed through my left temple as a means of relieving the pressure.
The headache. The grief. The depression. The fatigue. I know them all, and though I do not love them, I am too tired to fight them. I will sit with them, and I will accept them for a while, because what else can I do? Fighting them off will not send them away. Fighting them off will cause more tears. Fighting them off will cause more frustration. Fighting them off will not keep them at bay, it will just reinforce the false narrative in my head that I should feel ashamed and I should keep holding myself together. I can’t. I can’t hold myself together anymore right now.
So today, I cried. Today, I was tired. Today, I had a headache. Today, I listened to sad country songs. Today, I acknowledged that I will be bringing grief and depression around with me for a while. Today, I told myself to be kind to myself. Today, I decided to do my best, and to forgive myself when my best is not the best. Today, I recognized that I will continue to take my meds, and go to yoga, and talk to my friends, and call my mom, and hug my kids, and feel grateful for my husband’s returning health. Today, I accepted that even with all of these interventions, I am depressed, I am grieving, and I am not ok. Today, I accepted that while I am not ok right now, I will be.
I will be. But not today.
Processing…
Success! You're on the list.
Whoops! There was an error and we couldn't process your subscription. Please reload the page and try again.
Kali J Desautels 