Life

Photo by Meghan Bustard

Why I finally went to see a counsellor and you should too!

A few years ago, I was sitting at a long table with a group of my girlfriends at our monthly Fake Book Club hangout.  These girls are, to put it simply, the best.  The 5 of us became friends as adults and were all on similar enough career paths in terms of skill set (well, except for one, because her level of intelligence is unreachable for the rest of us LOL) without being in a position of competition in the Vancouver job market.  Since we didn’t feel as though we had to censor much, we began our hangouts by talking about EVERYTHING.  We let it all out.  I used to call it “girl church” because I’d leave feeling like I used to after a powerful church sermon.  It was beyond therapeutic.  We deemed ourselves the Fake Book Club/Real Wine Club because we’d meet monthly like a book club would, except that we’d only drink wine and rarely discuss literature.  Anyway, there we were a few years ago, and therapy came up in conversation.  Everyone at the table told a story referencing their therapist and I was in SHOCK.  “You ALL go to therapy?” I asked in astonishment.  It was a unified yes.  “It’s really great, Alicia, you should try it.” They told me.  I got the names of a few of their counsellors and saved them on my phone.

Regular, everyday people went to therapy?  When did this happen?  Why did no one tell me?!  I was taught that therapy was just those who’d had something big and justifiable happen in life that required professional help.  I was struggling, sure, but I’d never thought of therapy as an option for me.  The narrative was that you were considered “weak” if you couldn’t just muscle through a rough patch, and/or compartmentalize things and move on.  Considering that this happened in the height of an episode of depression (that I was semi in denial about/felt shame for), I sure wish I’d listened to them at the time.

The secret’s out.  I’ve been.  Therapy isn’t this big outrageous deal that everyone makes it out to be.  In fact, I bet it’s something that a lot of people you admire the success of practice regularly.  No matter your age, your financial situation or your struggles, I can assure you that help is available and that sitting on a couch across from a counsellor could potentially change your life for the better.  You deserve that kind of happiness, you really do.

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2017 was somewhere in between, and that’s okay.

The past 365 (+2) days were all about unfolding and transition.  Which makes for a kind of “not our best but not our worst” sort of year and truthfully those are even more important than the ones that are full of only happy memories and important milestones.  In general, this year was a lot of freaking hard work behind the scenes.  Which, I suppose I haven’t shared a ton about because when you’re in the throes of it all, it’s tough to take any time to reflect.

2017 was about putting time and effort into bettering ourselves (I say ‘our’ because this journey has largely been alongside close friends and my husband), which hasn’t been for nothing.  Ending last year, I felt stronger, more confident, and full of gratitude to have gone through so much growth and with such incredible support.  I’m starting this new year full of pride for what was endured and optimistic for the future.  So, before I get too much into what’s ahead, let’s first look back on what was.

(Top photo from our anniversary photo shoot with White Linen Photography)

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There’s still time to get them an amazing gift!

I was so organized this year.  I made sure the decorations went up arguably too early.  We started on our classic Christmas movies in November.  I even had my gift ideas for our loved ones in a Google Doc months ago.  And yet, here we are, 10 days until THE big day, and I haven’t completed my shopping.  Haven’t done any baking, haven’t even attended a Christmas party yet!  Things finally really kick off this weekend for us though (Christmas has turned into a two week event these last few years), so I’m teaming up with Best Buy to bring you my go-to gift ideas for 2017!  And then I’ll have to head to the store, because I am genuinely very behind on the whole gifting thing LOL.

Is the following a last minute gift guide or just my own personal Christmas Wishlist?  It’s hard to tell.  I either already own and love these products, or have them requested in my letter to Santa.  So, you know everything is Alicia approved and only the best of the best.  I always like to keep presents as thoughtful as possible, so I made sure to include ideas for all sorts of people on your list!

Be sure to scroll through and read until the very bottom of the post because you HAVE to enter the $100 Best Buy Gift Card Giveaway!

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Austin, my brother from another mother.

Grief is funny. I mean, not ha ha kind of funny, more of a complicated dark humour.  We knew the day was coming.  Austin died in the same way as my Nana, in a slow and steady decline that went on and on for years.  Dying of old age often means that your mind or body gives out on you.  For my sweet Nana it was her mind, but for our Austie boy, it was his body.  Both instances were tough to witness, but also a small gift to the rest of us in a way, as we all get the unique chance to soak up extra time.  The opportunity for a long, drawn out farewell.  Holding on to each hug a bit tighter and making sure your love for them is known with each interaction.

My parents did not want to own a dog ever again.  My brother, Tavis, and I begged for one all the time, but they’d had a traumatic experience with a pet store beagle named Sunshine in the 80’s and they’d decided, “Never again.”  Of course, never was, until a kid on Tavis’s soccer team brought a litter of new golden retriever puppies to a Saturday game.  My mom didn’t stand a chance.  She insisted that I join her for a puppy visit at their home the next day.  “Just to see how cute they are, because you’d missed them at the game.  Not to take one home or anything, we’re not getting a dog” she’d told me.  We arrived back home 2 hours later with a pro/con list and sales pitch to my dad about why we needed one of these puppies.  What responsible dog owners we’d all be.  He managed to fight us on the matter for an entire evening, but the next day, it was 3 against 1 decided.  We were getting a puppy!  The last one available from the litter, in fact.  Tav and I came up with three name options: Atticus, Wesley, and Austin.  We left the final call up to my dad, who decided that Austin best suited this blonde beauty.

Born on St. Patrick’s Day 2003, Austin was a prized 5th member of the Quan family.  My mom’s ‘Golden Boy’ as she likes to call him.  We were all “Austin…errr….Tavis…errr…Alicia” from that day on.  He outlived both of his parents and every single one of his siblings and was with us for almost 15 years.  Tough as nails, that dog.  He was as sweet as sweet Goldens can be.  Loved his walks and would do anything for food, or anything that he thought was food.  Austin devoured many questionable things over the years.  Most notably the leftover pancake breakfast incident when he ate an entire stick of butter and was covered in maple syrup.  There was the time he ate a large bag of cherries when my Auntie Lynn was taking care of him, which I’m sure was a mess in every way imaginable.  His favourite activity for a while was counter surfing and devouring entire loaves of bread if he was ever left alone.  Plastic really didn’t seem to bother him, he wasn’t choosy with his binge eating habits.  He was a suck for pets and attention, which only magnified over the years.  Whenever I’d come home to visit he’d go around to each person in the room, nudging their hand with his head, instructing them to start petting him.  He was simple and clever and adorable.

Deciding when to say the final goodbye was, as you can imagine, tricky.  None of us were in agreement.  My dad couldn’t face it, kept insisting that it wasn’t time.  My mom struggled to know if he was comfortable enough to stay with us a bit longer.  Tavis did what he could to support them and help out with Austin.  I did what I could do help my family talk through it.  How do you decide when put a dog down?  My mom struggled with the procedure itself, knowing that if the vet came to the house to do it, Austin would be excited about a visitor, or if they went to the veterinary clinic to do it, he would be excited about going. “But then his last emotion will be excitement,” Tavis concluded, “Which is a wonderful last emotion to feel.”  That brought comfort to us.

On the eve of my 31st birthday, while I sat on the couch in Malta of all places, my brother texted me that he was so sorry but that it was happening.  Austin was in too much pain.  I knew this moment was on the horizon, and yet, I was surprisingly overcome with grief.  I cried for hours and didn’t sleep that night.  I think it was a mix of being away from everyone and feeling a bit helpless, and of course, mourning the loss of the favourite member of the family.  Anyone who has ever had to say goodbye to a family pet knows what I’m talking about.

Today, Reggie and I are going to drive out to my hometown and join my parents and brother for a walk.  We’re all going to take his favourite route and spread his ashes in his favourite spot.  His final resting place.  And since I didn’t get the chance in person, I just wanted to say one last goodbye, my sweet Austin.  We love you and miss you every day.