Addicted to Anxiety

I’m addicted to being anxious.

Well, maybe addicted is not the right word..

But I think it helps convey the intensity of these feelings.

I cannot fathom not being anxious.

I was anxious as a child. Always feeling different but never able to find someone with a “different” like mine.

I was anxious as a young teen. Still not fitting in quite right. Different masks built and maintained, but the fear of those mask overlapping was terrifying.

And I needed a plan, a plan for what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I didn’t even know who I was. How the hell was I supposed to know what to do?

Eventually college.

Taking care of animals? I liked animals. I could do this right?

But now this choice cost money. My money. Money I didn’t have. Money I couldn’t guarantee I was going to make back.

Failure was not an option.

How could I not be anxious?

And then I failed.

How could I fail?? I failed.

What a failure I was…

But with help I got back up.


So I never even took the time to think, “did I even want this?”

I was so incredibly anxious.

But I made it, I graduated.

During this time I had a taste of the 9-5 of regular practice and the highs and lows of emergency medicine.

I found regular practice boring.

But maybe it was because I wasn’t anxious there.

So I moved to the big city and got a job in emergency medicine.

And man, I was a mess. I made mistakes, had to learn on the fly, I could barely afford rent and I got myself into even more debt.

But I was making friends that were like me! I was beginning to find myself. I was learning and becoming good at this.

I was anxious, but there were good times.

Thus began this anxiety ridden dance of highs and lows. It wasn’t the anxiety that was the problem. I was used to that. I don’t remember not being anxious. The highs were great, the lows? Eh, they were just lows, and they were few and far between.

Until they weren’t.

So I left.

I moved to a different place, but the same type of job.

I mean I was good at it, so maybe this new place would have more highs than lows.

It did, and it didn’t. Again, I made mistakes, but I succeeded as well.

But I missed my community.

They were such a huge part of the highs in my life.

So I went back.

But the job was still the job, I was still anxious and my resilience was wearing thin.

But I had my friends, my community united through blood, sweat, and tears.

They were worth the lows.

But no one could have seen covid coming.

Now the world was anxious, untrusting of anything and everyone.

Isolation was necessary, logical, but at its very core isolating.

My community drifted further and further away. And I drifted even further away.

With nothing to counteract the lows and my anxiety magnified 10 fold by the happenings of the world.

I burned out.

I had nothing left, but my job needed more.

But maybe I could fight to make things better. I could fight for others couldn’t I?

And then it came down to it. Sitting in that office I realized I didn’t want to fight.

I didn’t want to be anxious.

It just wasn’t worth it anymore.

That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

7 years, ending with a piece of paper.

It hurt.

All the tape and glue I was holding myself together with, all undone by a piece of paper.

So here I am, broken, but still breathing.

My heart is still beating, though the hurt still twinges in my chest with reckless abandon.

But I am still here, and I am going to pick up the pieces.

I don’t know how I will put them back together, I honestly cannot imagine what that will look like.

All I know is, I am done with accepting being anxious. I am done being anxiolus.

My addiction to anxiety is at its end.

The Path

It had been a restless night. Your demons clawed and dug at your resolve. Calling out your insecurities. Calling out all your flaws. You felt trapped, imprisoned in your own mind. Imprisoned in that damn apartment. Gods above and below… You hated this city.

But the sun, cutting through the darkness had called to you. Chasing away the demons, its blazing fury nipping at their heals.

They were gone. For now…

But any reprieve is a blessing and you have never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, you quickly dressed, not wanting to waste these precious moments. Grabbing your keys in deliberate silence you made it to your car without seeing a soul. Why did this place make you so damn anti social?

A question for another time though. Now you just needed… to be.

Why you chose this place you’ll never know. But as you parked your car you noticed the sharpness, there was this beautiful sharpness to the world. Everything seemed so clear, so simple, so at ease. Hesitant, you step out into it, the unfamiliarity snaps at you, clearing your foggy, war ragged mind. Your never up this early… But damn, that sunrise is stunning. Swaths of orange and gold mixing so effortlessly with the remnants of the navy night. The sun, in all its blazing glory. Rising above the horizon, cutting through the darkness with ease. You feel a twinge of guilt, you just can’t seem to remember the last time you saw the sun rise.

Your eyes are drawn to the majesty, the all commanding forest before you. Its canopy wordlessly eluding to ancient secrets held within its leafy boarders. As the crisp air fills your lungs you feel oddly… Calm. But there is something on the fringe… Laughter? You strain your ears, trying to make out the sound. So clear, but almost fleeting.

Your feet move long before your mind understands.

Follow me.

Its as if you have walked this route a thousand times, your feet unfaltering in their chosen route. Where were you going?

You’ll see.

You walk, instinct guiding you. The unknown sound always just a breath away.

Have you been here before? It seems familiar… A memory just beyond reach. Your pace quickens, the familiarity eats at you. Why do you know this place??

Panic takes hold, the pace falters. Your once steadfast feet, slip.


You feel cold. Was it… Was it just all a pretty daydream to hide from the demons…?

Tears sting your eyes, but maybe, just maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can hold on to the pretty dream just a little longer. Just a little longer please…

Open your eyes little one.

But it will all fade! All that beauty, the sunrise, the trees will all be gone, and I will be alone again. All alone in that cold, dark apartment!

Be brave little one, open your eyes.

You feel the demons circling, like vultures. Their shadowy tendrils searching for a foot hold… Dammit, dammit, dammit! Be brave. BE BRAVE!

With a battle cry you push yourself up and you open your eyes.

Flowers. Beautiful little blue flowers, flowing in the breeze. Almost… Almost as if they are waving. You push yourself onto your knees. You look around taking stock. Mud. You fell into mud. You feel the laughter bubbling up, taking hold. But in the span of a breath it turns to sobbing. Dammit, dammit, Dammit! Am I so lost that a simple mud puddle could break my spirit? Why… Why am I even here?!

You’ll see.

As the tears dry, you look to the flowers again. So simple, you reach out to touch the petals. So soft. You decide to take one, a perfect little reminder that this was in fact, real. Carefully you chose your companion and you send a silent “thank you” to the ones left behind. With your little reminder safely tucked away. You know you need to finish this journey.

It doesn’t take long, first you feel a change in the air. The once cool and crisp air turns warm. A smell so sweet, so calming fills your mind. The canopy begins to thin, giving way to the bluest sky you have ever seen. The clearing before you seems… Frozen, frozen in time. A remnant of an age so long ago, that even the trees have trouble remembering. But you remember, or at least you think you do… But do you…? Uncertainty eats away at your resolve, you lean back ever so slightly, afraid to step into the light.

No, not you. The demons.

Be brave.

Without a second thought you step into the light.

Time begins again.

You see it, as if the fog has been cleared away. The thing this path has been leading to, the end of the journey. Before you, in the middle of the clearing, stands an archway. Made of ivy and saplings. The end, and the beginning.

Your little reminder nestled in your pocket radiates heat. You pull the little blue flower from your pocket as you step forward. Words that felt like they have always been there, spill from your lips.

“I’ve brought you guys a gift.”

With the little blue flower in hand. You step through the arch.

Welcome home little one. You were so brave.

Thank you so much for reading my little story! This one was an absolute pleasure to write. Though the bulk of it is fiction, it was inspired by a images I captured while walking Fakwes at an off leash dog park in London, Ontario.

So I thought it was only fitting to share my inspiration with you!

Blue Flowers


Though I embellished a little, the beauty of nature is astounding!

Thank you all again for reading my post!

Please share and help me share my stories with even more people!

Candice 🙂


The wind. Whispering… Telling all in breathless silence. But you do not mind, for its cool touch remind you that you are alive. You look to the horizon, once washed with colours so beautiful. Hues of blues, purples, pinks and reds so pure, you yearn for your paint and canvas. But the now darkened sky has a new beauty, one of ink and glitter.

You look back to the centre of your circle, the fire, the heart of this gathering. Sizzles down to just embers. The group is getting restless, the cold inches further and further, the fire to weak to fight back.

It needs your attention.

So, you plod of into that inky night to find food, not for yourself or the gathered few. But for the fire.

You must be careful in your selection. For the heart is a fickle, as it is vital. Small pieces are necessary, easy energy, easy to carry. But you know you will need to bring larger pieces back too, they last longer, hold in heat. With arms loaded, you begin your trek back to the fading heart.

As you step into the ring of light, a feeble attempt from the dying flames. You see the faces of your group, their features masked in shadows. Are they gazing off in contemplation? Are they enjoying the silence? Are they asleep? Oh, the things that the darkness hides…

But questions beg answers, and answers in their own way bring light. So, let there be light! You feed the fire. Depositing your offerings into the bed of embers. At first it seems your choices were wrong. Too much smoke. The embers are going out. So, you kneel, to analyze, to rearrange. A few embers hold on, as if spurred on by your gaze. You take a deep breath, a careful puff of air.


They sputter and flicker, but they take hold!

Voracious, they engulf your offerings. Heat builds. Light grows. The flames dance.

A dance so beautiful, so powerful, so all consuming, it captivates the mind. One by one the group is mesmerized. Lost in the symphony, the flames the star. The flames sizzle and crackle. Its like music, crystal clear against the backdrop of the silent night. The smoke rising, lazily disappearing into the darkness like a dream upon waking… Was it ever even there?

As the gathered few feel the heat in their bones. The conversation as if given new life. Begins again. With the darkness at your back blocking out all distraction, blanketing you in a safeness, understood only by the present few. You tell stories, you share pain, you wonder, and you dream. But eventually the flames meet the one enemy it cannot beat. Eyes become heavy; yawns begin slip into the stories. Sleep calls.

As the gathered few begin to disappear into the darkness one by one. Off to find their own peace in the land of dreams. You linger. The last of the dying embers flicker. The urge to feed the embers, to nurture it back to it magnificent glory, nags at your mind. Is it because you enjoy creating and controlling something so uncontrollable? Or is it because you fear the dark?

Are you afraid of being alone in the dark?

Why are you asking yourself this? The darkness asks.

As the last ember dies, the weight presses down on you.

What’s the real question? I ask.

Are you afraid of being alone?

You blink. Taken back. “Isn’t everyone?” You reply.

That’s not an answer.

You gaze into the nothingness of the night. Answers are found in light are they not? How are you supposed to find answers in the night? But the night has no answers. It just begs the question.

Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone? Are you afraid of being alone?

What does one have in the darkness? When you take away all the noise. The colours, the people. What is left??


The answer is in you.

You take a deep breath; you look to your own fire deep inside. Forever burning, it may flicker, it may falter, but it will never go out. There the answer has been all this time.

Are you afraid of being alone?

“Yes, but I won’t let that stop me.”

#ThrowbackThursday – Every Bus Ride

This #ThrowbackThursday goes all the way back to 11 years ago…
I was in high school and my depression and anxiety had really started to take hold.

It took me many, many years to be able to look myself in the mirror and name my anxiety and depression, forcing them into the light.

But before then, all I could do was put my pain into art.

Sometimes I would draw, sometimes I would write.

Here is a poem I wrote.



Every Bus Ride

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

To put that smile on my face,
Telling friends that I’m okay,
While hiding tears behind the lace,
Wiping up the tears I say,
Shut up and smile.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

For silly friend’s intentions kind,
Whose words do not explain,
Why they are so sadly blind,
Take a breathe, exhale the pain,
Shut up and listen.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

My mask so porcelain strong,
Cracks and bends in many ways,
When my nerves are hit just wrong,
In the sunlight and moonlight rays,
Shut up and think.

Every bus ride,
Every song,
In those mornings,
Short and long,
I prepare.

I prepare,
To act like I care,
And cry all night,
Fade out the light,
I hear a song,
And I hum along,
To the morning side,
Of every bus ride.

Power of Me

I’ve been dying for some sigils.

Its like my skin has been screaming to be painted with magic.

Ink as dark as the New Moon.

I paint.

Creating my own reality.

Where there is a will, there is a way.

I weave magic into every stroke.

Intentions given life, life given to ink.

The Power of Me.

I paint.

Power of Me

The New Moon Gives me strength and gives me power to my intentions.

New Moon Mantra






I feel different.

As if I’ve finally been able to start healing.

Before, I thought I was owning my traumas. Speaking of them so they wouldn’t control me.

But now… Maybe I was giving them power. Never letting them rest, letting them fade into the darkness.

Now I just want to be lighter, to stop carrying these past hurts.


So, it’s time to let go, to move forward. To stop looking back at what was and what could have been.

I’m making a change.

I’m putting my pieces back together differently.

I won’t be afraid of failure and I will trust the magic of a new beginning.

I will strive to live with passion.

I will love myself and all my flaws.


And I will be brave.

For there are some paths you must walk alone and being alone is a power that few can handle.

Sometimes I think, maybe I was designed to be alone. But that’s okay. I’m not afraid to walk alone, and I’m even less afraid to like it.


Everything is changing and yet, I am more me than I have ever been.


More Me

Apartment Cleaning!

So, I was away for about 5 days visiting family and friends. And though it was absolutely lovely to see everyone, I felt like I was in this kind of limbo. I had all this energy, time, and proximity to people I care about to do so many things! But all I wanted to do was go home and organize and clean my apartment… But I had commitments, and who would believe and not be offended by; “Oh, sorry. I need to cancel. I need to go home and clean and organize my apartment.” Seriously. No one.

Now, I wish I could ask my squishy brain, “Why can’t that urge hit when I’m actually in my apartment??”
… I tried to process this concept of my brain asking itself a question and my brain started to hurt… Not a good sign.

So, lets move on!

After my 5-day adventure, I finally got home… and slept for 12

After that! I started to clean.

So, I went from an apartment with carpet, to one with laminate flooring.

With 3 cats… No matter what litter catching mat I use, the litter still tracks EVERYWHERE! And now I can feel it everywhere I walk. So, I sweep religiously. Then there’s the fur… Oh, the fur… Balls of fur tumbling into the corners, under couches, against the wall. Instead of just weaving themselves into the carpet fibre like they used to in my old apartment. So… More sweeping!

So, after sweeping, and moving stuff, then sweeping more, cleaning the litter boxes and sweeping more.

I started to unpack and put away all the stuff I had been ignoring for the past month. I hung up actual curtains using a curtain rod (instead of the bed sheet and thumb tacks I used prior) to cover my patio door.

My sacred space got downsized a bit, storing the stuff I did not need at this time. I felt drawn to a minimalist and stream lined area focused on growth. Not the reflective compilation of all that came before and made me who I am, I had set up when I first moved in.

The succulent I have had some petals fall off in the move. Luckily these little off shoots can grow into a whole new plant! So, I repotted my succulents little off shoots and settled the new plants I bought while I was away into their new location, with a little prayer to the Earth that they survive and thrive in my care.

At this point I needed some supplies to really finish off the apartment set up. So… I went on a shopping spree to the craft store!

I bought some frames for the puzzle I finished, and this Legend of Zelda print I got for Christmas. As well as a fake fern, some fake flowers and a vase. Basically, I wanted the size and vibrancy of the fern, but I knew the odds were forever against me of keeping one alive… So, I got a fake one! The same thing goes for the fake flowers. I wanted the colour and since most beautiful flowers are unsafe for pets, fake ones are the easiest compromise!

When I brought my haul home, I got to work. I could tell my energy was waning, but I was so close.

I hung up the pictures, placed the fern, assembled the flowers, and added a few more touches around the room.

I lit a candle and cleansed the space with sage.

The burst of cleaning and organizing inspiration was over, and the results amazing.

Here are some pictures of all the hard work!

The stunning Legend of Zelda Print and “Starry Night” puzzle!

Framed Pictures.JPG


The Living Room is coming together!

Living Room.jpg


The fish have a nice view of the fake plant I got.

Fish Tank


My flower arrangement!

Flower Power


My repotted succulents as well as some other plants.

Green Space



Candice 🙂


Its Been Awhile…!

Well today is Imbolc… Fair to say it kinda snuck up on me in all the chaos after the move and starting the new job.

But what to do, what to do?

Here are some of the main things Wiccans suggest:


Now alas I am away from home, so spring cleaning and cleansing my sacred space are off the list, BUT!

I’m ALL FOR planning my spring planting!

I want to “try” to grow some plants now that my new apartment has more light, as well as re-pot my succulents little offspring.

I will admit in the past I have not been blessed with a green thumb but I have hope!

I need to better connect with my ruling element Earth and I sincerely hope that nurturing and growing plants will help!

I also found this poem that I just loved and wanted to share.

Imbolc Poem

Cheers All and Blessed Be!
Candice 🙂

Big News!

Hey All!

I’m sorry I have been so absent, so many things have been happening!

Some of you may already know, but it all comes down to the fact… I’m Moving!!

I have accepted a job at a emergency and referral facility in London and will be moving to London in January.

I hope when I am done with the move and settled a bit more I will be in a good space to come back to blogging!

I hope everyone has had an enjoyable holiday season and that the new year brings many wonderful things!


Candice 🙂

Emotions and Music

I really feel like music helps me to process thoughts and emotions that seem too overwhelming on their own.


And lately there is a lot rolling around in this brain of mine…

I was looking around on Youtube. For something that would just click, that would help, and would calm the chaos.


Sometimes it feels like I’m looking for the next high.

To find a song that sends shivers down my spine, brings tears to my eyes, and makes me feel.


F**k that’s hard to find.
I can spend what feels like hours searching for that click. That feeling.
Many times I come up empty handed.


But today I found something amazing…


I feels like hope and sorrow. Beauty and pain. Love and loss.
There are moments where I think I hear someones breath, and I find myself catching my own breath in turn.
It gave me a space to embrace change, the joy and the sorrow that comes with.


I am lost in the haunting notes.


Saying good bye to the past, respecting the unknown of the future.


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