My 20s: 20 & 21

On November 21st, I officially became closer to 30 than to 29...the last foggy breath of my 20s is merely lingering in the air, about to be snuffed about the cold, harsh reality of my 30s. Okay, I really don't feel that dramatic about it. I actually like getting older. For the last couple years, I've even thrown the 30 card out like it's a source of pride.

This is around the time that women start to feel uncomfortable admitting their age, but I've never felt like I'll be one such woman. I suppose this is made easier by the fact nobody can ever accurately guess my age. I'm still getting carded for booze and lottery tickets on the regular. Yeah, lottery tickets. Apparently I look 17 or younger. Every time I get carded for a lottery ticket, I can't help but laugh as I dig my ID out of my wallet.

17
The thing is, even though it's kind of a compliment to look 17, I definitely don't miss being 17. I will never be one of those people who wistfully sighs when reminded of their teenage youth. High school wasn't the best time of my life, far from it. Sure my skin was smoother, my hair shinier, my triceps less jiggly, but I was nowhere near as content, confident, or forgiving as I am now. I was actually kind of an asshole back then.

My twenties have been interesting in so many unexpected ways (hence the name of my blog). I might only live 100kms away from where my 20s started, but everything has changed.

Because this is going to be long, I am splitting it into several entries.

20 (May 2006 - May 2007): The dawn of my 20s had me working at a call centre in London, Ontario. It was my first experience living away from home and being "on my own" (I was living with my ex). In 2005, I started working at a call centre doing inbound technical support for an American Internet service provider. I was good at my job, but dealing with angry people all day was extremely draining and upsetting. I don't know how people mentally compartmentalize having people scream obscenities at them all day, because I sure wasn't able to. 

20th birthday in Montreal

I had few friends, no hobbies, never cooked, rarely cleaned. I'd go months without doing laundry, days without showering. I was a mess, physically and mentally. Looking back, I was a textbook case of depression, but I didn't realize it. I just thought I was getting used to the grueling "real world." I thought all there was to life was working and dreading going to work because that was literally all I did with my time. I dreaded going to work so much that I often had such severe anxiety on my "Monday" (Saturday), I couldn't fathom leaving the apartment and I'd have to call in sick. I can remember lying in bed before work and my heart would pound so hard with anxiety that the headboard would tap the wall with every beat. I was completely consumed with hating my life, it was all I thought about. When the opportunity arose to move to Nunavut, I gathered my things and excitedly said goodbye to everything I was leaving behind in Ontario, including my depression. My ex and I got married in July and moved away 12 days later. If I'm being totally honest, I'm not sure I had complete faith in the marriage from the start, but I thought it was "good enough" at the time to get married and I thought that was the best anyone could ask.

Leaving London did wonders for my mental health. I got over my depression and fell in love with Rankin Inlet right away. I had been accepted into Fanshawe College but because I left Ontario instead, I decided to go to school in Rankin. I took Management Studies at the community college which ended up being a good way to meet people and learn about Inuit culture first-hand, something I will forever cherish. I finished up 20 by being offered a temporary position with the federal government.

A day or two before I turned 21
21 (2007-2008): I turned 21 while on a plane to Halifax for my first vacation out of the north. When I returned from vacation, I began the aforementioned job, which I've long considered the best thing to happen to me. My job duties fit my skills nicely, and my experience at the call centre made the new job feel like a dream come true (you mean, I can go to the bathroom for more than 5 minutes and not get in trouble?!) I was often left alone in the office which was terrifying at first. After just 6 months of working there, my boss joked that I ran the place. The job and the organization were (and are) a good fit for my personality, which is why I'm still doing the same thing 8 years later.

Happiness, June 2007

I had been involved with community theatre as a teenager and met many wonderful people there, but it wasn't until I started this job that I really felt like my surroundings allowed me to flourish. It sounds corny, but my coworkers were so cool. They were into fitness and being all-around good, decent people. I started being more health-conscious and looking at the world in a more positive light. I also finally felt like I fit in, which I had never experienced before. 

The second half of 21 was rough, and it's when things started to go downhill in the marriage. I think people thought I thought I was blameless, but I fully admit I was 50% of the problem.

Selfie, November 2007, I was as emo as I looked (but damn that was a great eyebrow wax)

For no fewer than about 50 reasons, I decided I needed to not be married. It was a very difficult decision to make; I don't know how people with kids, mortgages, etc., do it. It was hard enough being 21 and only married for 18 months. Someone I thought was my good friend completely betrayed me in the process of "supporting" the divorce. Suffice it to say, it became abundantly clear I was making the right choice to leave.

Fortunately my work pulled through for me and offered me a position in Iqaluit. A few months before turning 22, I moved to Iqaluit alone and had to start all over again making friends and starting a new job. Those first few months were hell. My boss in Rankin had told me, "the next little while of your life is going to be nothing short of a roller coaster." He doesn't know how accurate he was. I had to learn to rely on myself fully for entertainment, cooking, cleaning, and everything I had taken for granted. I had nobody to talk to about any of the stuff I was going through, and it's a wonder I didn't drive myself insane. 

Emptiness/loneliness/having a whole bed to myself, Iqaluit, April 2008
By the time I turned 22, I was starting to become more comfortable with the new normal.

To be continued...

NaBloPoMo Day 12: Nunavut

Today the topic I have chosen is Nunavut, and I'm not really sure what I thought I'd write about. I've been wondering what to say about it. Since I've moved back, people often say to me, "Wow, you lived in Nunavut? What was THAT like?" and I always want to say, "You want me to summarize 4 years of my life in one sentence?" It's an impossible question, so I usually just smile and say, "Life changing."

I wasn't sure if I should make this a top ten list with something like "top ten life lessons from the north" or "top ten Nunavut memories." But I decided, I already have the topic. "Nunavut, what was that like?" Talking about it does involve me talking about my ex which some may find tacky of me now that I'm remarried, but I'd like to think there is a respectful way to cover the topic.

In spring 2006, I was dating my now ex-husband, J. We were living in London, ON and both of us were unhappy with our lives there. We disliked our jobs and didn't have any hobbies or friends; we were just going through the motions. I was applying to go to college and was accepted into the Computer Systems Technology program at Fanshawe College. Meanwhile, J started applying to interesting jobs around the country. I will never forget our initial discussions about Nunavut; I was completely repulsed by the idea. As his application progress for a position in Rankin Inlet moved along in a promising way, I warmed up the idea and was absolutely pumped when they offered him the job.

Me in an igloo, April 2010
We'd been together 2.5 years at that point and felt like we were in it for the long haul, so we decided to get married before we moved, which we did, and it was a small but fun wedding.

After frantically researching the best we could about how to prepare ourselves, we moved up on August 1st, 2006. I spent August exploring town and falling in love with the north. In September I started in the Management Studies at Nunavut Arctic College, which was a fun way to spend the next 6 months as I got to meet people and make friends. One of my instructors had actually been an instructor at Fanshawe and had lived a few blocks from us in London.

I don't want to discuss specifics, but things started to get difficult in early 2007; however, we were enjoying ourselves nevertheless. By the time school was over in April, we had made some friends and I was offered a temporary position with the federal government. That summer was some of the most fun I've ever had. Saturday nights at the Legion, board game nights with friends, weekend nights at our friend's cabin, quad rides out on the land. It was awesome. I was covered in mosquito bites, but it was awesome.

Things started to go more downhill in August. For still unknown reasons, I started to form massive blisters on the palms of my hands and fingers. They were extremely painful and spread quickly. The doctors and nurses couldn't figure out what was wrong, and they were throwing pills and creams at me like nobody's business. It was very unsettling as the problem got worse, and the doctors only got more confused. It was so bad that my hands were literally immobile. I couldn't unzip my fly, open doors, wash my hair, use utensils, etc. I was on a steady dose of Tylenol 3 which wasn't helping. Eventually I was diagnosed with dyshidrotic eczema and to this day, I never seen photos of a case as bad as mine. The photos on the Internet are laughably minor compared to what I went through. Fortunately it has never come back, which makes the whole thing all the more baffling.

Cape Dorset, April 2009
However, as that nightmarish episode of my life was improving by September, there was more drama in our lives. It really isn't my place to talk about it on this blog, but suffice it to say, it involved J more than it involved me, although it sent me into a tailspin of stress and depression. We were both medicating ourselves with alcohol which obviously doesn't work.

By the new year, things had only gotten worse, and our relationship was massively suffering. I looked at my life at the time; I was 21 and felt I was too young to be going through what I was dealing with, so I made the decision to walk away from the marriage and from Rankin Inlet. I could have handled the situation better, but life doesn't hand you a manual about how to navigate divorce, especially as a 21 year old.

I was offered another contract in Iqaluit so I moved there in March 2008. I'd never lived alone before and found the adjustment difficult, but also liberating. By summer I was emerging from my depression and found happiness in my life in Iqaluit. I made friends, was going to the gym, loved my job...things were great. My best friend Tori even came to visit me in December 2008 which was one of the highlights of my time in the north. In early 2009, I was given a permanent position with the government and was finally able to move into my own apartment. I had either been living in a staff house, house sitting, or living with a coworker for that first year. Moving into my own apartment was amazing, and I really settled into life.

Repulse Bay, November 2009
2009 was a great year. I feel like that's when I really started to come out of my shell and make friends. However, Iqaluit is a small place and the more time I spent out of the house, the more people started gossiping about me, which was awful. Unsurprisingly, the gossip made my life seem a lot more interesting than it actually was. I'd spend a Saturday night at home alone and then hear on Monday about how wild I had been at a party. Yup, if the "party" was my couch and "wild" was me falling asleep at 9pm.

By fall 2009, I started to look at ways to move on from Iqaluit. I began the process of applying to become a police officer with the RCMP and was optimistic and excited about it. That December, I began talking to Anthony online, not thinking much about it. I went home for Christmas and we met up with zero intentions of dating, and yeah. Here we are 6 years later, married.

By the end of my trip home that December, I knew I had to cancel my application process for the RCMP and pursue things with Anthony. I've gotten slack about it over the years from various people but I have no regrets. I flew Anthony up in April and July 2010, the latter trip was to help me finish packing to move. I left on July 21st, 2010 with mixed emotions.

April 2010
The adjustment back to life here was difficult, but I refused to acknowledge it at the time. I had been so used to the idea that I was doing something unique with my life, and then suddenly I was back in plain old southwestern Ontario, unemployed, living with my dad. I also started suffering from anxiety about driving, which is still an ongoing issue for me.

It has now been more than 5 years since I left. At this point, I don't think I would ever move back. I enjoyed my time there and learned so much about life, but it often felt like living in a fishbowl. I enjoy my anonymity here, especially now that nobody recognizes me post-weight loss and jaw surgeries. I enjoy Chipotle down here and being able to go on a weekend road trips. Anthony and I have had so many adventures, and I am looking forward to moving stateside and starting a new life there.

Sometimes I try to think about what my life would be like had I not moved to Nunavut, but it bothers me to think about it. I feel like I "grew up" there for all intents and purposes, and it has made me into the person I am now. I feel like I appreciate the small things in life, like a warm breeze or a mailbox full of Amazon shipments. :-) I am grateful for the people who stand by me in hard times, and for 24 hour grocery stores. I made some lifelong friends there and have so many cherished memories, there's no way I would have been able to fit them into a top ten list.

NaBloPoMo Day 2: Dieting/healthy eating

Today is the 2nd day of NaBloPoMo and today I'm talking about dieting and healthy eating. Specifically, my journey with it.

Like a lot of people, eating healthily is not something that necessarily comes naturally to me. I was a picky eater growing up. We ate a limited range of food in our house which contributed to the problem. For example, I never had mayo until I was in high school. I don't think I ever ate a salad until I was older (12? 13? 14?). We tended to eat the same things all the time, and a large portion of what we ate was breaded and/or frozen. We also always, always had junk food and pop. It was always a regular part of my diet.

Me and the KFC Double Down: a match made in heart attack heaven
I stayed more or less thin through high school but when I moved out on my own at 19, I quickly gained about 10lbs. From there my weight rose each year. I didn't cook much in my younger days, I preferred the same stuff I ate growing up: frozen dinners, chicken nuggets, and fast food. I always thought eating healthy was for losers. I figured I was going to die anyway, might as well enjoy myself while I can. For awhile, I even sneered at runners outside, although I think part of that was I was jealous I couldn't run, too.

Fortunately I have a decent metabolism and never got too overweight, although I do think slow weight gain made it harder to care about my weight slowly increasing.

I'm not sure what made me come to my senses in 2009. That summer is when I started working out consistently. I think when I saw myself start to lose weight, I wanted to help it along by eating better as well. By that time, I knew several people who lived healthy lifestyles and I had come around and realized they weren't losers, they enjoyed being healthy and they were all the happier because of it.

In 2010 when I moved home to Ontario, I was down about 20lbs from the year before, but I gained it all back and then some because I had access to fast food. Not to mention, Anthony and I would go out to eat all the time.

In 2013, we were both hating how we looked felt and looked in photos and started eating low carb. We both saw success with it, and I even had to go out and buy all new clothes.

Happy ending though, right? Not really so. I've been finding that the effort to eat well makes it hard to think about anything else. I end up becoming obsessed with food and feeling like I'm in a constant state of deprivation. I feel consumed by food (instead of the other way around). I would have several days in a row of eating perfectly, but then I would end up binging on food all day long and feeling intensely guilty the next day. I'm smart enough to know that all of that is very mentally unhealthy. I also realize that most of my motivation to eat well is for my physical appearance, but that shouldn't be the main reason I eat well.

I'm not really sure why I struggle so much, but I've found it difficult to balance between eating in a way that doesn't cause me to gain weight and eating so well that I'm a mental wreck. I try to tell myself that instead of hard restrictions like, "20g of carbs or less per day," my goal should be things like, "When given options, make the healthier choice."

I don't think I'm there yet, but I'm working on it. I definitely can't and don't want to eat the way I used to. Crappy food makes me feel sick and I love the way I feel when I'm eating well, but I still have a mega sweet tooth. I do think part of my problem is that I have a mental image in my head of how my body should look, even though it would likely be difficult to achieve and maintain. I don't think I've come to fully accept the fact that the compromise of looking "ideal" isn't worth all the pain and suffering. I think I need to find a place of "good enough." Maybe that's a pathetic, defeatist way of handling my problem, if it even is a problem. Maybe society created this problem for me. I don't know, and that's really the best I can say before I drone on too long and miss NaBloPoMo Day 3.