My 2024

A year of healing

This is the last essay of my December series “Transformation”.

It’s my favourite time of the day: very early morning. I woke up at 4:30am and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to get up and spend an hour or two (this has taken days, I started on the 26th) looking back at the year that’s almost over. It’s become a cherished Christmas tradition—taking time to give thanks for everything good in your life will make you appreciate what you have so much more. There’s nothing more powerful than a practice of gratitude to make you feel rich and fulfilled.

It’s maybe even more significant than usual because we’re on the brink of change. Next year we’re moving to our new place, 40 wild acres of trees and meadows, snow and mountain air, a plan that’s been nearly three years in the making. A year ago I was convinced that we would be living there this Christmas, but it didn’t happen. We laid all the groundwork for it though, and it will happen within the next few months.

Moving is a big deal for us. We are people who become deeply rooted to the land we live on, because we spend so much time outside every day. The land becomes part of us, and if it’s right, we need little else to feel complete.
Our current home never felt quite right. We were in a time crunch when we bought it, having already sold our place and needing somewhere to live asap, and it was the best option we had at the time. But it’s not been a good fit for us, which became more obvious as the years went by. Stepping foot onto our new land felt like coming home; we knew immediately that this was what we had always been looking for.

It’s been a long three years of waiting, planning, preparing, filling out paperwork, drilling wells, building roads, cutting down trees, fencing and cross-fencing, applying for permits, crunching numbers, budgeting, dreaming, hoping, fearing it might not work out.
But it is working out. We have a busy year ahead of us with lots of work, but we couldn’t be more ready. 2025 will be the year where we are coming home.

But first: let’s look back at the last twelve months. My word for 2024 was flourish, and I’m pleased to say that I have been (and still am) flourishing! It was another year of transformation: I made new friends, connected more deeply with myself and my husband, let go of some things and people that didn’t serve me anymore, and lived every day as joyfully as possible. As someone who suffers from depression, I do the things that fill me up every single day: I walk, write, and read daily, stay sober, treat myself (a shot of hazelnut or cinnamon syrup in my coffee is a must), and practice gratitude.
It’s a very good life.

January: The one with snow and ice

We had an intense cold snap in January with lots of snow and ice, and temperatures below -30 degrees Celsius. That didn’t stop me and the dogs from frolicking outside though! I set my alarm for 5am every morning to work on my novel The Homeowner's Association, I did my shifts at the hospital, and I read The Myth of Normal, which had a profound impact on me. It explained patterns and behaviours of people in my own life that had always been a mystery to me, and gave me answers to questions I had been asking for decades.
January is also the month of our wedding anniversay, and I wrote On loving a (much) older man for the occasion.

February: The one where I’m on a podcast

A year ago, the universe (and my book Everything is Broken and Completely Fine) brought a special person into my life: Samantha. She’s a professor, behavioral psychologist, 500 Hour Registered Yoga Teacher, and all-around remarkable woman. We connected last December, and when she asked me if I’d be interested to come as a guest onto her podcast Higher Vibrations in Higher Education, I immediately said yes. I was very nervous, but we had an incredibly deep, soul-connecting conversation (as it would turn out, the first of many).

The rest of the month was spent much like January: writing, hiking, working, wintering.

March: The one with a new puppy (and a trigger warning—mention of su*c*dal ideation)*

*Skip this section if that’s tough for you to read! Move on to April, it’s safe there.

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March was an extremely difficult month for me; easily the lowest one of 2024. On the outside, everything ticked along as per usual: work, walking, writing. Fool’s spring made an appearance, and within days I went from being heavily bundled up in long johns, winter coat, scarf, gloves, and hat to wearing a summer dress that exposed my pale, sun-starved arms to the surprisingly warm sun and inspired this reel.

But despite how happy I look, I was struggling immensely that month. Even Rich coming home with a new puppy, which should have been cause for celebration, couldn’t break the awful spell I was under. Unbidden intrusive thoughts were my constant companions, and what they kept telling me was this:

How about ending it all?

The early spring will be followed by another hot, dry summer with forest fires, and you will live in fear and anxiety for months. Isn’t death easier than putting yourself through this again?

The world is burning to the ground. You can escape it all now. You don’t have to suffer.

You’ve lived a good life. All that’s left for you now is pain and loss. But it doesn’t have to be…

It was intense. My brain, never my most reliable support system, completely turned on me that month. It kept presenting me with suicidal thoughts, like strapping me into a chair and showing me a movie I didn’t want to see. They weren’t my thoughts; they marched into my head from somewhere else. And I had a strong suspicion I knew who sent them: my hormones.
My PMDD really kicked it up several notches that month, pushing me ever closer to join the 34% of women who have attempted suicide because of this terrible disorder.
I didn’t, because I’m stubborn, the dogs need me, and I have a strong support system and a wonderful therapist. But I also knew that I desperately needed better help with my PMDD, because those thoughts scared the shit out of me.

I increased my dose of anti-depressants, upped my therapy sessions, and I went to several doctors for help.
Spoiler alert: it would be another four months before I finally found it.

April: The one where I go to Costa Rica

Thankfully, PMDD is cyclical, and that terrible episode passed after a couple of weeks. Besides, I had something exciting to look forward to: going to Costa Rica on my first ever yoga retreat. I’ve gushed about it several times, because it was such a transformative experience. This quote by Isak Dinesen (Karen Blixen) sums it up succinctly: “The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears, or the sea”. I did all three copiously, and it healed so much.

May: The one with the Aurora Borealis

May brought a gift to millions of people across Canada, the US, and Europe: the aurora borealis! A severe geomagnetic storm caused by a series of solar flares and coronal mass ejections produced spectacular northern lights, something I’d always wanted to see. I set my alarm to make sure I didn’t miss it, and I’m so glad I did: it was incredible! A bucket list item delivered directly to my door.

Our first foals were born, spring had sprung, and I started taking the puppy on my walks with the Heelers. I also finished the first draft of my novel and started revisions.

June: The one where life is good

June was filled with goodness: I learnt to drive the tractor, the foals were having the time of their lives, Rich turned 70, and I spent my days how I always spend them: hiking, working, writing, resting. I’ve created my life in such a way that I do the things I love to do daily, and I rarely deviate from my routine.

July: The one where my soulmate is here

July was simply perfection. My niece came from Germany for two weeks, and we had the ideal Canadian vacation: we kayaked, whitewater-rafted, paraglided, rode ATVs and horses, swam in lakes and rivers, and roadtripped. We also braved hot springs on a 40 degree Celsius-day, and throughout it all we talked, laughed, talked, and laughed some more. It was the best.

August: The one that changes my PMDD

Remember March’s terrible PMDD episode? After that I went in serious search of a gynecologist. As I’ve hinted, it took months to find one, but in the end it was worth it, because I love her. I wanted to go into medically induced menopause (it was that bad), but she convinced me to try an IUD first. I’ve always been terrified of IUDs, but I trusted her, and the procedure was a breeze (hurray for conscious sedation!).
But what’s even better: it’s worked wonders for my PMDD! I wrote about it here, but the short version is: my PMDD barely exists anymore. I can’t believe the difference it has made!

In other news: I was the covergirl of our local newspaper! You can read the article here.

September: The one where I become a novelist

In September I fulfilled a lifelong dream: I became a published novelist. I’ve been wanting to write novels since I was a kid, and I’m finally doing it. It feels great.

We also got our septic system at the new property, faced a few unexpected problems, and had to come to grips with the realization that we wouldn’t be moving that year. To deal with that disappointment, I activated full-on fall mode and soaked up the golden days.

October: The one where I enter a beauty contest

When I stumbled across a contest for women over 40, I spontaneously decided to enter and ended up placing 13th. It was fun but also weirdly stressful, and I don’t think I’ll do something like that again.

I wrote a short story that I published on Amazon, we had Thanksgiving, and there was another aurora borealis! October is my favourite month of the year, and I spent every minute I could outside. I think part of the magic of fall is that it’s over so quickly—you really have to live in the moment to not miss anything.

November: The one with the hot springs

November started off with the depressing and worrying election results from the US. Soon after that I took a break from the news, but how everything will play out for America and the world at large is something that’s never far from my mind.

When it comes to politics, it’s easy to feel defeated, angry, hopeless, or powerless. What can a single person do when faced with so much conflict and disagreement? One thing I’m working on is to actively resist the temptation to divide the world in “us versus them”. I try to understand where people are coming from, what their fears and hopes are. I think the hate-filled rhetoric we’re exposed to reflects the views of the minority, not the majority. A division of the people will hurt all of us and only serve people who profit from fear-mongering and hatred. The self-serving, egotistical, and narcissistic billionaires are the enemy, not our neighbours and co-workers and family members.

Anyway, the highlight of November was going on a second annual trip with my friends to some hot springs! Hot springs are magical, especially when there’s a dusting of snow on the ground.

December: The one where I make a decision

December has had its usual ups and downs. It’s never been an easy month for me, but this time it had nothing to do with Christmas. We experienced a lot of death and heartache at work this month and a lot of middle-of-the-night callbacks. It was difficult physically and mentally.

But we’ve also had beautiful visits with family and friends, some great conversations, and I received a banging review for my novel on Kirkus Reviews. I celebrated my 45th birthday, started work on my next novel, and then I received a special invitation:
was I interested in becoming a 200-hour registered yoga teacher? Why yes, I am! My immediate gut reaction of wanting to do this took me by suprise, but it feels absolutely right. 2025 is the year where I will become a yoga teacher!

I’m only a couple of days away from marking another milestone: on December 31st I will be three years sober. Many of the good things in my life wouldn’t be the same (or wouldn’t exist) if I wouldn’t have stopped drinking. I will always be grateful to myself for having made that important, life-changing choice.

Even though not everything worked out the way I had hoped this year, it was such a good one! I’m most grateful for having found a treatment for my PMDD that works, for recognizing and honouring my limits more and more, and for saying yes even if it scares me.

I said yes to lots of things that scared me this year: being on a podcast, the yoga retreat, meeting a stranger (who has become a dear friend) for coffee, paragliding, marketing my book more, asking for help (and taking it when it was offered), the yoga teacher training.

I’ve also said no more: to people, commitments, favours, and tasks that I don’t have the energy for.

I’m saying goodbye to 2024 with gratitude and peace in my heart. I wish you all the same!