Four Years and Many Tears

I should be dead. Wouldn't it all be easier? The pain would have never existed. The tears would have never fell. The torment would have never made my nights long.

Would it be better if I was a memory?

"Hey, remember when he did that?", says a friend.

"That was so T.J.", replies another.

I can see my own tombstone.

Troy Jeremy (T.J.) Smith.
Beloved father and son.
April 1986-January 2016.
Age 29.

Giving up is easier than battling. Than enduring. Than fighting.

It's so hard to type these words. I can't see the screen due to the tears in my eyes.

I am not suppose to be here. That was once the narrative of my life.

A bad son. A bad father. A bad brother. A bad friend. Just a terrible human being.

Never good enough. Unworthy of anything. Selfish as fuck.

I wanted to die. I wanted it to be over. It should have been over. I should be dead.

Four Years Ago

I was in the Psychiatric Unit of the Yarmouth Regional Hospital in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia. Few people knew my whereabouts. Cannot be sharing that information. It was embarrassing. It was something to be ashamed of. In a locked facility, taking several different kinds of medication. Meeting with a psychiatrist each morning. Under constant surveillance each hour.

What was worse was that my thoughts were reassuring I was suppose to be there.

How dark? Perhaps, I could hang myself off an overpass so people can see. Maybe, I will jump into the ocean. Never to be seen again. I just wanted to disappear.

During that time, I was alone. So alone. That's a pain in itself.

I don't need this pain. Depression is a life-sucking illness.

If we let it.

Being hospitalized saved my life. The life that I live today. It was decided then I was going to fight. I knew I couldn't do it on my own. So, what did I do? I used the power of Social Media.

I put it on Facebook that I suffer from  Severe Depression, Anxiety, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). A handful of people knew up until that point. Then many people gave their support to me. Their well-wishes. Their prayers. Their thoughts. It was humbling and helpful.

That was four years ago. Today. It's my anniversary. It's my reminder.

Are we suppose to forget the bad? Absolutely not.

The bad is just a point in time where you weren't good. Life wasn't good. I was extremely ill. It's a reminder of how far I have come. Am I proud that I hid my illness for so long and allow it to take control of my life? Probably not. No.

But, I do have to recognize where I was. It was my starting point to see how far I have come. I need to realize the mistakes, the torture, the part of my life that was wrong. So wrong.

A lot of you that read this didn't know me that well. It was the 'wrong-version' of me. The man that was overtaken by an illness. It infiltrated every aspect of my life. It spread like a disease to others around me. No, depression is not contagious, but my actions, behaviours, and feelings were ruining the lives of people around me. I was blinded to it. I wanted to die so bad.

Not badly enough, apparently. And fortunately.

Why so dark?

It paints a picture. A dark one. A scary one.

Close your eyes.

Imagine T.J. Smith dead and gone. The one you know up to this exact moment. He's not in this life. He never came into your life or crossed your path. Never influenced your life. Would have never met him. You have no idea how lucky I am to be here today. I almost died.

The darkness is where my re-birth took place. Where the second chance was given. I don't fear the dark anymore.

Life, and all it brings, is worth the battling, enduring, and fighting. Four years ago, I did not know this fact.

Tears aren't a bad thing. They are physical proof of the emotions and feelings that we have inside.

I am suppose to be here. Life deals us cards. We are at the table and we have to play. Life brings us to places. Life brings people in and out of our lives. Life is pretty fucking amazing. You just need to see it.

It's better to feel pain than nothing at all.

That's why I share my story. I want my story to inspire hope. To inspire others. To inspire life.

It's important to understand the darkness of my past.

January 2020- Today

So, where am I today?

I have a smile on my face.
My son is growing like a weed and living his life.
I am living in my hometown (which I would have never expected 4 years ago).
I have a dog. It's a unique relationship.
I am a substitute teacher. An emergency one, but still, it's pretty fucking cool. I love it.
I have applied for other jobs in my town.
I can see myself living here. Having a family. Dreams are possible.
I have eliminate my gambling addiction from VLTs. (HUGE ACCOMPLISHMENT)
I drink less.
I don't use marijuana anymore. (Maybe abused it when it became legalized).
I have caring and supportive parents.
I have great, supportive friends.
I co-started a Mental Health Peer Support Group.
I coach little kids hockey. And I mean the littlest, and one of my most fulfilling years coaching.
I have some money in my bank account.
I take less medications, but still take some.
I can handle pain better.
I accept life.
I understand death. It doesn't scare me. Each day is a gift.
I haven't had any depression symptoms in several weeks.
I can handle my anxiety.
I put others first. That's not to say I don't take care of myself.
I can deal with problems that may arise in life.
I have values that I have stuck to for three years.
I take pride in my appearance.
I am trying exciting new things.
I am ready to love and be loved. (She will be the luckiest one alive)
I no longer live a lie.
I am truthful to myself.
I am truthful to others.
I recognize my mistakes.
I correct my flaws.
I feel worthy, after years of not.
I don't feel guilty, after years of feeling so.
I am REALLY trying to go to bed earlier. (Super hard)
I am in the best shape of my life physically. (Almost see a 6-pack)
I feel I am a role model to kids in my community.
I am trying to learn French.
I have begin to work harder in all aspects of my life. (Never worked hard before for anything).

And yes, I am using the pronoun 'I' awful lot, but I have come so far in four years, I deserve to feel good about myself. Just as you should, too.

Bottom line; I am extremely happy and in a great place for once in my life.

No matter what you're going through or dealing with or fighting, you can get here too. Mental Illnesses are awful and brutal, but they are illnesses we can successfully fight and own. I would have never said this four years ago. That's why I am telling you my story. Even if you're in the dark right now, I can help you out. Trust me, I know the way. It's a battle. The hardest fight you will ever face. But it is worth it. Every hard moment in life teaches us to be stronger for our next breath. Adversity is the fuel to our growth, such as water is to a plant.

"Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."
                                      -George Bernard Shaw

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

What it means being a Man- International Men's Day

Masculine is defined as, "having qualities or appearances traditionally associated with men, especially strength and aggressiveness." (Dictionary.com)

There are some words in that meaning that hinder us as men when it comes to our mental health.

Today is International Men's Day, November 19. It isn't to recognize men for feats or accomplishments. It is a day that is used to 'raise awareness of men's well-being'. In this case, our mental health.

Growing up in a rural area of Canada, where men worked extremely hard on the land and sea to provide for their families, being 'manly' was something that was promoted openly. You had to appear strong, be able to drink a lot, withstand verbal barrages, and most of all, be 'tough'. It is a cultural and traditional thing that has been apart of Newfoundland and Labrador for all of our history. It was unaccepted to appear weak or show vulnerability, such as crying. That's not 'manly'. We are still somewhat in this mindset, but as we understand more about our mental health now, but why are we still afraid of showing emotion or being vulnerable?

Men Don't Cry

Or men are not allowed to cry. Who made this rule? Boys don't cry. It is not a law, but is preach as if is was. Usually, another male telling us that we are not allowed to cry. Telling us to withhold a basic emotion. Why? It is perceived as a weakness. That's why. And we know men cannot be weak.

Here's a short story about a young man. He grew up in a household where sports dominated the dialogue and media within. Sports, which is the ultimate symbol for masculinity, taught this young man that crying is not acceptable, especially to another man, such as his father. This young man hardly ever cried in his father's arms, because this is not tough. His father's friends were young male adults that were athletes as well. Safe to say, there were many male role models present for the young boy. The boy looked up to them all. Never once did he see them cry or become vulnerable in front of each other. That just wasn't the way.

This young boy grew to become a young man himself. Had relationships with women where he showed zero emotion. He never seen it ever. Emotion? What's that? He cannot show that. Crying is weakness. Get real. He will never cry in front of people, especially his father or friends.

This young man was in a relationship with a female that he cared about a lot. She brought the relationship to an end, which happens. The emotion was inside just ready to burst out. But he kept holding it in. He cannot give in to the pain and sadness inside. That was his burden to bare. Not anyone else's. One day, this young man went to his father's after playing a sport he loved. The young man went into his bedroom and the waterworks began, hoping the security of his bedroom would keep his father out.

That was the first time I ever cried to my dad about a failed relationship. It only took 33 years for me to do so. To feel vulnerable to the point where he would see his only son struggling to grasp for breath as his cheeks were soaked with tears. As a father, I am assuming that is not a favourite scene. I didn't know what he was going to say, but whatever it would be, it would be supportive. I knew that my dad had my back, no matter how bad I felt. I didn't want to cry in front of my dad in fear that he may judge it as a weakness. I never seen him cry before.

I felt better after that emotional groundbreaking moment with my father. Like a weight was lifted off my back. It was new territory in our relationship. It was the, "it's OK to cry to my dad about things if I get overflowed with emotion", moment.

A week or so ago, I did that same. I broke down, tears rolling fast, "Dad, I can't do this anymore."

He was there with a hug and reminded me how far I've come and how strong I actually am. In a moment where I thought life was over and I wanted to quit, he was there, holding his son who is bigger physically than him but drained psychologically. No questions asked, he held me and reminded me that everything is going to be OK.

Dads, it is important for us to open up that emotional connection with our sons. It ensures them that you are there for them. It tells them that men/boys are allowed to cry. It gives them a sense of trust to come to you with problems that they will encounter in life. It starts with us to eliminate this falseness that men always have to be tough or 'manly'.

Society's Expectations

As individuals, we have less issue discussing our feelings. In an intimate setting, with less people present, it is easier to speak of such things. I notice, it's as a whole that pressure is placed on men to be 'manly'. When I say 'society' I have no idea where this pressure originates from. I mean, if I spoke to people individually, they support mental health awareness. Only when they become apart of a whole, their voice may change. This is unfortunate.

We need to start thinking for ourselves people. Have our own ideas. Do not be influenced by others. Just because something was, doesn't mean it is or continue to be so. Our minds are beautiful and powerful. We need to create our own thoughts. So, close your eyes, sit back, and I will try to help you with an image.

There's a little boy that's in grade 5. He loves school for the most part. He has friends there, does his work, and enjoys his teachers. Unbeknownst to the child, or anyone at that time, he has social anxiety. He wants to be apart of groups or teams. It gives the sense of belonging.

One day, in the library, the teacher assigned 'group' work. Two of his classmates told him he could not be apart of their 'group'. Remember, little boys aren't allowed to cry, especially in front of people or in school. As his classmates reject him, he stands there, feeble, as he can feel his eyes building up full of tears. He knows the feeling all too well. The teacher can't help him. Other classmates can't help him. Surely, the two that rejected him cannot help him. It's a lonely and helpless feeling.

That day I tried everything to hold back the tears. I failed. How weak. How embarrassing. What a loser. Instead of saying, "Yes. I am crying". I said something way different. I said, "Every Wednesday, I get sore eyes". (Yes. I remember the day, location, and people. That was 1997) So, to keep up this charade or act, each Wednesday, I had to get 'sore eyes' so my story would be viable and to prove, that I did not cry on that Wednesday afternoon. Safe to say, I dreaded Wednesday's for awhile.

This is what society told me to do. I was not allowed to cry in school. People would laugh at me. My peers, laughing at my pain. That's an awful feeling for anyone to endure, regardless of age. I will never forget this event in my life.

How do we change this attitude I had so many years ago? We must work together to become a supportive society. Tears are not a weakness. We must respect others. No one knows what another person may be going through. As a little boy in grade 5, I felt pressure from society, not to show emotion when I was extremely hurt. I was in grade 5 for fuck sakes. My mind shouldn't be on trying to live a lie each Wednesday so I wouldn't be accused of crying. There was pressure. I felt it.

How am I 'Manly'?

What defines a man?

A big bank account? Maybe, but what if he's abusive in his relationships and covers it up with his money or connections. Does a big bank account give you values?

Is it 'manly' to be a bully and talk down to others? To show you're above someone?

Maybe it is 'manly' to love many women/men in your life. Sexual conquests make us 'manly'?

What about if I can drink lots of alcohol? Is that 'manly'?

How about teasing people when they are emotional?

Courage and strength are often words associated with being 'manly'. That's where I will go. That's what I believe. That's how I am 'manly'.

Once upon a time sexual conquest or having money meant to me that I was 'manly'. That is complete bullshit. That was nothing but insecurities. Covering up.

Four main risk factors to men's mental health are;

1. Alcohol/drug abuse: I never used illicit drugs or became an alcoholic, but I did binge drink with the best of them. That was a form of hiding and coping. I done that for so many years. Made mistakes and lost relationships because I was afraid of the truth within myself.

2. Social Isolation: I met some people last weekend. Seem like good people to me. Way outside my comfort zone. But before admitting to my poor mental health and mental illness, I always isolated myself, how? Video Lotto Terminals (VLTs). Just me and the colours and noise. I was isolated from the outside world. Evidently, I developed an addiction that cost my money.

3. Lethal Methods: When I think about suicide, it's gruesome. No other details are needed here.

4. Reluctant to seek help: I was this person. Afraid of what I may find out or be told. Ashamed of what may be wrong. Belief that no one can help me. I am a man, I don't need help.

This is the one we can change men. We have the power to overcome all risk factors, but I believe that seeking help is the attainable one. And in my experience, once seeking help happened, the other risk factors were lowered.

So, how am I 'manly'? This is what I came up with.

Seeking help.
Give up binge drinking and drug use.
Being emotional when I feel it.
Understand my feelings and expressing them.
Treat people with kindness.
Be a good father from afar.
Be a better brother.
Be a son that my parents can be proud of.
Be a good friend.
Taking care of myself; emotionally, psychologically, and physically.

And someday,

Be a loving and super hard working husband/partner.
Love like no other.
Become a father, again.
Loyalty. Honesty. Openness.
Inspire the uninspired.
Help those in need.
Be a role model for our youth.
Never giving up my battle.

And if that's not 'manly' enough for you, really, do I care? Not one bit. This is my life and this is what I do.

So, am I 'manly'.

Simple.

Yes. Very.

"Life is too short to be little. Man is never so manly as when he feels deeply, acts boldly, and expresses himself with frankness and fervor."
                                                                          - Benjamin Disraeli

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

Unworthy and Unlovable October 7, 2019

If you make enough wrong turns, you will get lost. If you keep making the same turns, you’ll end up in a circle.

I fall into the latter category.

Gary Zukav explains it like this…

’Unworthiness is the inmost frightening thought that you do not belong, no matter how much you want to belong, that you are an outsider and will always be an outsider. It is the idea that you are flawed and cannot be fixed. It is wanting to be loved and feeling unlovable, or wanting to love and feel that you are uncapable of loving ‘.

Of all the symptoms from depression, the feeling of unworthiness stays with me the longest. When I become hopeless, I can again find hope. Suicidal thoughts stem from the roots of not feeling worthy. If there is no worth to my life, why shall I live?

When I make a new friend, there is hope that it is a relationship that can last, regardless of how close we may or may not get. It is being in meaningful relationships that help with feeling worthy. Worthy to be accepted by another being. Worthy to be in their company. Worthy to be loved.

With me, there is baggage and skeletons. Truth is, some bad decisions were made when I was younger. That’s where growing up comes into play. Ashamed of my past actions, I still have to relive them when someone poses a question of my history.

That part really bothers me. A lot.

If someone I met today judged me on my early twenties, they would see a shitty, ungrateful person that was arrogant and had zero repercussions. Thus, they probably wouldn’t want me in their life. I don’t blame them.

That’s not me anymore. Change is one of the top ten values I live by.

The caterpillar is a wormy looking bug that would make us cringe almost every time because we are unsure of it. But at some point, the caterpillar thinks to themselves and says, ‘Fuck this. I am done being an insect that moves slowly through life’. Then, that same bug decides to go into a shell for some time. When they exit the cocoon, they have changed into something completely different. A butterfly. A magnificently looking winged life form. They can fly to wherever they want in life.

My journey is that of the caterpillar. Though, I am not yet the butterfly I want to be, I am working to get there.

Then my mind reminds me of my biggest flaw; being unlovable. The flaws outweigh the positives. There may be more quantity of the positives, but the quality of the flaws always come back to get me. Being unlovable is in the equation to the feeling of loneliness, as well.

Unlovable and lonely. Two terrible and terrifying traits to have. No one wants to be with someone who is unlovable and therefore you are left alone.

This is would have been my 2009 dating profile;

An arrogant and selfish young man that has no idea what he wants out of life. I get black out drunk on weekends and in that state of mind, I try to pick up women, hoping the liquor charm is working that night and can get lucky. My other hobbies include gambling to a point where I spend all my money and have to lie to my parents to send more. I don’t workout or diet properly. I don’t read books. I don’t even know what mental health means, so certainly don’t want to know about that.  

As I write that description, tears fill my eyes. That’s who I was. That was my legacy during that time in my life. I mean, how am I not desirable? Unworthy and unlovable. I wonder why I really believe that. It makes sense now.

It really hurts to think of how I was. I am embarrassed and it makes me cry.      

   

Fast forward ten years.

Look in the mirror. What image do I see? An unlovable and lonely man. Though, so much has changed in my life, those two flaws are still with me.

I do believe I will be alone my whole life. That’s a truth I believe. Since then, I have been in a few romantic relationships. And they have all ended the same, me being too hard to love and ultimately, me being alone, once again.

But I am not that same 23-year-old. Things are different now. Immensely.

There’s a son and dog in my life. I’ve faced and fought serious demons with my battle against depression. Those demons don’t scare me anymore. I have reconnected with my parents. I don’t drink like I used to, actually, don’t drink much at all.

The gambling has been eliminated, even though that was my greatest struggle. Addiction, in my words, ‘doing something that you know is unhealthy but makes you feel so good for the moment’. Addicts know what I mean.

I have become a mental health advocate. Helping others through my experiences. Listening to their stories to help them fight their own battles.

I am currently in the best physical shape of my life. Going to the gym used to be considered a chore for me. Now, I love it. Seeing changes in my body. The work is paying off. In addition to the exercise, I have changed my diet as well.

I have entered into a By-Election to become a councillor in my hometown of St. Anthony.

Yes, externally, life is way better than 10 years ago.

Inside though, there is the unlovable, unworthy, and lonely person. This is a riddle I can’t solve, so it seems.

Every action in life results in reactions by others. Every step that I perceived to be making in the right direction, there always be someone left out along the way.

I can battle depression and anxiety and all that comes with it. My next personal challenge is to figure out why I am unlovable and unworthy. Searching for something you have no idea where to find it will take time and perseverance. Failures will happen. Obstacles are in the way. Emotions will be on that roller coaster. The uncertainty will be extreme.

I will not give up. Never. Life is a journey and along the way, we need to take ownership of ourselves. Right now, I am sick and tired of not being good enough, being unlovable, being alone. I am. It sucks.

Storms do create damage. But storms don’t last forever. And when the storms are over, the butterfly will then fly.

"Wanting something is not enough. You must hunger for it. Your motivation must be absolutely compelling in order to overcome the obstacles that will invariably come your way".

                                                               - Les Brown

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

Today I want it to End- September 6, 2019

I haven't stopped crying today. I have my sunglasses on at Tim Horton's to hide the red around my eyes. 

Today, the want to be dead has never been so scary. It’s real today. It’s not even 2 pm, and to be completely honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if I didn’t make it through the remaining 10 hours.

There’s no purpose. There’s no meaning. There’s no….

There are thoughts and feelings. Grasping my well-being and not letting go.

“I want to die.”

“It’s time to go T.J.”

“Write the suicide notes and leave them.”

I am not afraid of dying, but I don’t want to die.

I’ve broke down in my living room, car, and shower, so far. Begging myself to stay alive. I lied to my father already with the old line, “Everything is fine.”

Why do I lie to people?

Nothing feels fine right now. I am so broken.

Time may heal wounds. Time also opens the old ones. These thoughts and feelings that I believed I had accepted are

What’s my point anymore?

Being told I am not good enough. It keeps conditioning my thoughts; maybe I am not worthy of life.

Worthless. Useless. Sad. Alone. All thoughts and feelings I can take to the other side with me.

I once told my parents that I want to be cremated. Hopefully they remember that.

I can’t fight these thoughts and feelings today.

I’ve been awake for about 4 hours. Not a minute has passed that something is telling me to kill myself. It’s a convincing thought today.

The mental aguish is disheartening. I am in pain, but not for me. For those I will leave behind. My parents. My son. My friends. Whoever. I am sorry.

Depression is winning this battle today. All the lies I hear within are sounding so good. Are they even lies if I believe them?

Five different ways. Five different way I have seen my death in my mind today. It’s a challenging and crippling vision.

As I write this, a person came into Tim’s, recognized me, and gave me a hug.

What a difference.

Temporary fix.

I had a great past weekend. No worries with an occupied mind of trying to win softball games. Being around people that support you was great. One of the best weekends I ever had.

If my thoughts get the best of me today, it will be my last weekend.

This isn’t a sap story. I am not looking for empathy, sympathy, or understanding. I need to vent. The thoughts and voices and sentences inside my head will kill me if I keep them in. They need to get out, or they will win.

The power of the mind is exceptional. Here I am trying to be an advocate for mental health and all I can think of today is ending my own life.

Perhaps I am a hypocrite or phony or bullshitter. Maybe all the above.

Whatever I am, I am staying true to myself. I don’t have to share these frightening thoughts. These horrific feelings. I am just getting them out of me.

There is no ‘Once upon a time’ or ‘A long, long time ago’ start to my story. It’s not a fairytale and may not have a happy ending. I believe the lies that I will end my own life someday and my story will go from a theme of hope to tragedy.

I have come to terms with who and what I am. I know I am a narcissist. How do I know? I have written just under 600 words, and the word ‘I’ has been used about 40 times. I am outspoken and straight-forward. I know how to manipulate a situation and I am stubborn.

I am also thoughtful and emotional. I am grateful for the people in my life and the patience they have for me. I am ambitious and determined, both traits that lead me to believe I am capable of killing myself.

And suicide is not an act of cowardice. Want the truth? Suicide means giving up. I am not a coward for wanting to be dead. The opposite holds true. The burden of me will leave this world and people will be better off.

I mean, what the fuck do I have to offer?

I am a 33-year-old man that has been living with his parents for the last 18 months or so.

I can’t keep a romantic relationship because of my unpredictability.

My son is living his life, as I am a spectator from afar.

I don’t have a job.

I don’t have a house.

I see myself as a loser that don’t deserve to live.

Maybe I am not the beacon of hope anymore. My voice has lost its impact.

I hope this a speedbump for me.

If this is my last blog, I am sorry.

If I let you down. I am sorry.

And for you that struggle with depression or any mental illness, be stronger than me. Don’t give up. Please. It is worth it. My life just doesn’t seem like it.

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

“Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.” 
― Shel Silverstein

My Incomplete 2019 NHL Playoff Predictions

I am becoming more interested in writing. It is a passion for me. But this time instead of writing about my journey or struggles, or someone else's, I took a different route.

I have not posted in quite some time. So, before the 2019 NHL Playoffs start, I was just messing around one day after work and began to write about my true passion, hockey.

I am far from a professional writer, but what I did here was give some thoughts on the NHL Playoffs. I did not get it completed but I figure I would share regardless.

I began writing Blogs back in 2016 as a therapeutic approach to my mental illness. I wrote about everything, and in the process, discovered I really enjoy writing. That being said, I have not written much of anything in the last 12 months. My mental illness is under control, and to be honest, I have covered most issues surrounding that topic. So what now? What can I write about now?

The answer was right in front of me. In January 2018, I had to move back to my hometown in Northern Newfoundland and in with my parents. Not sure what was lying ahead of me, I made the move with an open mind.

I grew up in a hockey household. Albeit, a Toronto maple Leaf household.

My dad was and is, hardcore into hockey. He plays in two hockey leagues. He hosts regular season and playoff hockey pools. He is in about 20 hockey pools per year. Hell, Wendall Clark and Doug Gilmour were posters hung on the wall above our kitchen table when I was a kid. Naturally, I grew up reading The Hockey News.

Since last January, I have watched a lot of NHL hockey. Most I ever have in my life. When I was coaching Junior ‘A’ hockey, I would be so consumed from those games, I didn’t want to watch hockey when I got home from the rink. The past 16 months have given me the opportunity to follow the NHL closer. Montreal Canadiens are my team, but I am a fan of the sport and all teams. Trying to figure out how teams play within their systems, the evolution of goaltending, and the increasingly noticeable speed of the game (just not skating, but how teams move the puck) have become intriguing to me as a fan.

I am not going to recap my history of playing and coaching here. I am just going to use my passion for hockey and writing to give my point of view or opinion on hockey-related topics. I tend to think outside of the box and ask weird or difficult questions.

With that being said, my first hockey-related Blog will be about the upcoming 2019 NHL Playoffs. I am a huge Elliotte Friedman fan. Maybe someday, he will ask my opinion on some topics, if my writing is improves and my content makes sense. (Allowed to dream, right?)

My topic for this entry will be me asking questions for each team heading into the 2019 Playoffs. Hopefully, this gives readers a chance to create/develop their own opinions. I am not here to tell you what is right or wrong. I will simply raise a few questions to be thought about.

Western Conference

Calgary Flames. The Flames finished first in the Western Conference. They were 12-10-1 against all Western playoff teams, and have beaten them all in the Regular Season, except the Dallas Stars. Their Goals For per Game (GF/G) was all over 3 against playoff teams, except against the Stars. Calgary was led by some top end forwards and solid defense core, led by captain mark Giordano, who had an amazing season.

Question 1: Who will be their starting goalie? Rittich is 27-9-5 with a .911 save percentage (SV %) and 2.61 Goals Against Average (GAA). Smith is 23-15-2 with a .898 SV % and 2.72 GAA. This team scored a lot of goals this season, 2^nd most in the league actually. I question their goaltending. Is it good enough? Who is #1? Does it matter who is #1? Last year, the Stanley Cup Winners started with their hot goalie going into playoffs, but ended up with their regular starter winning the final game.

Question 2: Can Johnny Gaudreau handle the wear and tear of a playoff series or multiple series? He’s dynamite offensively. But he is small. When teams begin to lean on him hard and finish every check on him, how will he bounce back? I think he’s a fantastic player, I just worry when the games get ‘heavier’, how will he respond?

Personal Thoughts: I feel Calgary is a solid team, but a few years away from being a top team. Yes, I know the Regular Season was great to them, but can they win games other ways than scoring over 3.6 goals per game?

Past 10 games (not counting game #82): 6-4.

Last four playoff appearances (2018, ‘17, ’16, and ’15): Did Not Qualify, Loss Rd 1, DNQ, Loss Rd 2

San Jose Sharks. In February, I told my friends that I believe that the Sharks will win the 2019 Stanley Cup. The last part of March was rough for them. San Jose core has been around for some time. They have playoff experience. They can score. They are not small. They arguably have the best defense core in the NHL when healthy. That’s my reasoning to as why they will win the Cup. Here are the concerns;

Question 1: Which Martin Jones will show up? During the 2015-16 Cup run, Jones was 14-10, .923 SV % and 2.16 GAA. No wonder they got to play for the Stanley Cup. This year, he is 35-19-5 with a low SV % at .896 and high GAA at 2.95. The Sharks are 22^nd in NHL Goals Against (GA). He needs to be better if they want to win some rounds.

Question 2: How healthy is Erik Karlsson? Doug Wilson went all in getting Karlsson. He has missed about 30 games this season. If healthy, he could be a Conn Smythe candidate, he’s that instrumental to a team. If he is not, how will he contribute? He is also up for a contract in the summer. Maybe an exceptional playoff run can get him a few more dollars, on top of the eight digit payday he’s getting anyways.

Personal Thoughts: I am sticking with my prediction that the San Jose Sharks will win the 2019 Stanley Cup with Brent Burns winning the Conn Smythe.

Past 10 games: 2-7-1

Last four playoff appearances: Loss Rd 2, Loss Rd 1, Loss Cup Finals, DNQ

Vegas Golden Knights. The Golden Knights have not disappointed in their second season and showing that last year was not a fluke. Picking up Mark Stone at the NHL Trade Deadline was huge for them. Stone is not a one-dimensional player. He helps in many areas. Vegas are 10-12-1 against the teams that have qualified for the Western Conference playoffs. This team will not go under the radar this post-season. I really enjoy watching this team play. They play fast with and without the puck.

Question 1: How good are they? All their stats show that they aren’t a top tier team, but aren’t far from it. The Powerplay will need to be better for them. Penalty Kill is top 10 in the NHL. They are top 15 in Goals For (GF) and top 10 in GA and above league average in the faceoff dot. But are they a top team?

Question 2: How much does Marc-Andre Fleury have left in the tank? He’s a Hall of Famer. Three Stanley Cups in five appearances. He knows how to get it done in the spring. He is now 34 years old and missed some games this season. For Vegas to be successful, he needs to be on point.

Personal Thoughts: They are playing my prediction for Cup winners in the first round. An excellent team will be eliminated immediately. They could reach the finals once again.

Past 10 games: 4-4-2

Last four (well, one) playoff appearance: Loss Cup Finals

Nashville Predators. The Central Division was the best in the NHL in 2018-19. The Predators are atop of this division. They are 11-15-1 against Western Conference playoff teams. Their strength is in goal and on the blueline. They do not give up many goals, 4^th least in the NHL to be exact. The defensemen drive this team. They have some nice pieces up front, but not sure if there is a bonafide star (Forsberg is close). Their PP, believe it or not, is last in the NHL at 12.7%.  Rinne has been good, but not as good as his Vezina season just 365 days ago. The Predators are going to be a tough matchup for anyone in the West.

Question 1: Will the PP come to life? Special teams are monumental in the post-season. 12.7% may not get it done. The low PP % also demonstrates why they are 19^th in GF this season. On a team considered a cup contender, they only have three players with 20 or more goals. Can they win every game 2-1? Maybe.

Question 2: Can they score enough to win? They play extremely well in the playoffs, so it seems. But their path to the Cup, like all the Central Division teams, will be a challenge. Last year, the Predators were the favourites going into the playoffs. Their lack of scoring this season has them on a leveler playing field with the other seven teams.

Personal Thoughts: I am not one to lie, I am not a fan. Ever since Laviolette disrespected Steve Ott in one of the “Road to the Winter Classic” episodes a few years back, I don’t like them. I recognize that they are an excellent team and Nashville is a city I would love to see a game at, but I think they may lose in first round.

Past 10: 7-2-1

Last four playoff appearances: Loss Rd 2, Loss Cup Finals, Loss Rd 2, Loss Rd 1

St. Louis Blues. The surprise of the Central for me, are the Blues. Craig Berube is 37-19-6 since taking over and have them in the playoffs. Along with Jordan Binnington coming out of nowhere, well, from Richmond Hill, the Blues have had a great season. They have 13 players with 10 goals or more. They have one of the best two-way centermen in the NHL with one of my favourites, Ryan O’Reilly. The Blues were 16-8-2 against the playoff teams in the West. Their defensemen are more than adequate. Sounds like this could be the year.

Question 1: Can Binnington keep up his dream season? This was his breakout year and will get votes (1^st place votes) for Calder Trophy as league’s top rookie. His numbers are surreal. In 31 games played, he is 23-5-1. His SV % is .927 and has a 1.89 GAA. These are not only Calder Trophy numbers, but Vezina numbers over a full season.

Question 2: Is their 2^nd line good enough? Dave Perron was a healthy scratch in the Cup Finals last year with Vegas. They have balance after their first line, but not sure if they have a ‘dangerous’ second or third line. Their 2^nd and 3^rd lines are good, not great, in my opinion.

Personal Thoughts: Can do some damage in the playoffs. They are an interesting team. Again, the Central is so tight, they could be done in four games or be in the Conference Finals.

Past 10 games: 7-1-2

Last four playoff appearances: DNQ, Loss Rd 2, Loss Rd 3, Loss Rd 1

My battle with mental illness- By Jonah

I don’t know who I’m writing this for but these are some things I have to say. I don’t know who will read this. If anyone ever.

My name is Jonah. I’m 19 years old. I’ve had a pretty rough life. Not rough as some, but I’ve been through more than any child ever should have. At age 14, I was diagnosed with depression and PTSD. At age 17, I was told my depression had grown even more severe. I was recommended medication. But I denied for fear of addiction and never actually being happy again.

So, here’s my struggle with mental illness.

I was born in Ottawa, Ontario.

I lived there until my dad left my mother at age 3.

She then decided to move back to her home province of Newfoundland. This is where I would make my first friend that I can recall, Jacob, at age 5. He is still my friend to this day, and we’ve been through many hardships and rough experiences together.

A lot goes on in my head throughout the day. I had the first suicidal thought at age 12. My mom had been with a severely emotional and physically abusive man since I was 5 at this time. He would hit her, he would hit me, and he would hit my older brother Cameron.

When he was finally arrested for assault on Father’s Day 2013 when I was just finishing Grade 7, I never felt relieved. And this is where PTSD really first started to kick in for me. I would have these wild thoughts all the time. My emotions would fluctuate a lot and I had no control. A lot of times I ate to deal with it, and that seemed to help. But not for long.

I contemplated and planned my first suicide attempt December of my grade 8 school year. And again, before my birthday of that same year. I even had the note written, which I had kept for many months after when I couldn’t carry out my attempt. But instead I curled up and cried on the floor, because I knew I would hurt my mom, my brother and my dad. But I was hurting and I wanted it to go away. I just wanted to be free.

After I finished grade 8, I decided maybe I should start fresh, and go live with my dad back in Ontario. Thinking that would help.

One thing I should bring up, is by this time I had been diagnosed with concussions twice. Which, increased my risk with depression.

School started normally at my dad’s. I thought I was doing better, my hockey skills advanced, I had lots of fun. I made new friends. I felt good. Then I had my first what I will consider the biggest blow of my life, I’m not exactly sure how or when I found out, but I found out that the only aunt I had was diagnosed with breast cancer again. It just kept coming back. I had a lot of trouble processing this. And I didn’t feel like anyone could be there. My dad, he tried, but it was his sister in law too, so it hurt him.

My depression got worse now, I missed Jacob and I missed my family in Newfoundland.

This brings up the 2nd plan for suicide. One morning, my dad worked early and his wife was gone as well. I was supposed to get myself up for school. And I did.

I got myself up and put the finishing touches on each individual note I had made for my dad, my mom, and my brother Cameron. The usual stuff, that this wasn’t their fault. That this wasn’t because of them but because of the pain I was in. The fact that I wanted to be free. I didn’t want to feel like a burden anymore. I put them on my bed. I got a knife and I got in the shower. I let it run. For a while. I missed the bus. And as I was in the shower getting ready to press the knife to my skin, my phone rang. It was my dad texting me. I got out and answered. He wondered if I made the bus. I replied that I didn’t. After a while he said his wife would bring me to school, but they wouldn’t be excusing me for being late. Which meant I had to serve detention.

If they had only known the reason. If only my dad had known what he stopped.

I took the letters and shoved them on top of my closet before I left.

The next few months would be normal. I would cry myself to sleep most nights. I was hurt and I would never tell anyone why. I was seeing a psychiatrist but it didn’t seem to help.

Then in February, I got hit from behind in a high school hockey game and had to be transported to CHEO, the children’s hospital in Ottawa. I had gotten a serious concussion and this is where the dark started again.

I stared having suicidal thoughts almost every day now. I just wanted it all to go away. 

I decided that I would end it for real this time. After my 15th birthday.

I spent a lot of time playing video games. Trying to take my mind off it. I prepared the notes again. I even wrote an extra one for my dad’s wife. Thanking her for the help she tried to give me with my struggle. Telling her to make sure that Gabrielle and Daniel (her and my dad’s children) don’t know what happened to me. That I’m just going away for a while.

I had a lot of prescription medications. A less painful way I thought. And one day I was home alone. I left the notes on the couch downstairs. I went into my room.

I closed the door, and I opened all the pills. I had a big glass of water, and I was crying, I was crying a lot. I told myself this was it. This was how I could finally be away from the hurt. I didn’t understand why I was hurting so much. But I knew I wanted it to go away.

I put the pills in my mouth, I picked up the water, I went to drink, and I heard the front door open, and the sound of Daniel’s little footsteps running across the living room hardwood upstairs. I spit the pills into the glass, I ran and grabbed the notes from the couch, into the closet they went. The water and pills went in the toilet and I flushed them. I came out just as Daniel came downstairs. If only my 2-year-old brother knew that he saved my life. And maybe one day, he will. But right now, he’s 7. So, he shouldn’t.

I decided that summer I should move back with my mom. My dad still doesn’t know the true reason why.

My mom drove up that summer with her new boyfriend Ramsey, his son Tayler and my brother Cameron. I was so happy to see them. I hated to say goodbye. Especially because my dad and his wife and children were completely oblivious as to the reason why.

I moved home, and life went well for the first year and a bit. I didn’t have any thoughts, I spent a lot of time with Jacob and our new friend Kodi, I played hockey and soccer and life was okay. But in January 2015, I got the worst news of my life. My aunt Chantal had passed away from her cancer. I knew now that she would finally be at peace. But I still couldn’t handle it. She was my only aunt. She was so loving. So caring. She didn’t deserve it and I couldn’t understand why she was taken from my family. I missed her so much and I miss her still just as much to this day and I now have a tattoo dedicated to her on my left arm. I went into a very bad state after her funeral. I couldn’t focus in school. I couldn’t focus at hockey. I couldn’t sleep. And when I slept I never wanted to get up. I didn’t know how to cope with it. And nobody was there for me.

Flash forward to me in my sophomore year of high school I met E. And that was the first time I fell in love. She is a beautiful red head, with gorgeous blue eyes. I really loved her. But our relationship was extremely rough, due to my mental state, which never really improved at all. I did so many things that I regret, but I cannot change. And one time when we broke up, I really thought that was it for me. I went for a walk to clear my head I told my mom. But I had a note prepared. I went to the Nicholsville bridge and I planned to drown myself. But I got to the top.

I sat there, and thought could I really do this to myself. Could I really hurt mom? could I really hurt Cameron?

Could I really hurt E? Could I really do that to my family?  And so, I climbed down, and that’s where Jacob’s ex-girlfriend had found me. I told her everything, and she talked me down and brought me to my mom and told her everything. My mom got me help.

I started to see a counsellor. Me and E got back together and I started to improve, even though my counsellor told me I had severe depression and recommended I start taking prescription pills but I declined in fear of addiction. And I stopped going to see her after. Me and E continued our relationship for a while after, but it started to get rough again, and I slowly found myself falling out of love with her, after I met a girl named K. We started to spend time together. She is a real sweet girl. So beautiful. Made me happier then I had ever been. She was close to God too and I figured that may be some help to me. So, when there was an easy way out with E. I took it. I fell quickly for K, she was shy, and she was different then E who I was used to after 2 years. But I quickly adapted to K, and now I believe she is the love of my life. She taught me so much about faith and Christianity. I started to talk to God. I started to seek help. And I was happy for a while. I didn’t have any dark thoughts for about 5 months while me and K were together. In the blink of an eye we hit a rough patch and broke up. I was heartbroken.

A few weeks later I made some bad decisions and I really hurt K. In a way I will never forgive myself for. And I wouldn’t ever expect her to forgive me for. I’m in love with K and I always will be. Even though I started some shenanigan with a girl named M, who I thought I hoped would help me be happy again and help me forget what happened with K. But every day we spent together. I still thought about her. All the time. I couldn’t stop. I missed her so much. But I didn’t know how to tell her after what I did.

The dark thoughts came again. I started to cry myself to sleep. But then I started spending the nights with M and I had to hold it in. Because I couldn’t cry about K with this girl who adores me lying next to me. But I missed K so much.

And now I’ll cut to today. August 12th 2018. Well August 13th while I’m writing this. I’ve been having suicidal thoughts again for about a week now. Progressively worse every day. Nightmares every night.

Sleeping poorly. In the news the other day, a man who has the same occupation as me (Ramp Attendant at an airport) killed himself in the US. And that hit me very hard. My thoughts increased after that. I leave my house a lot and my family always wonder where I’m going. Usually I say coffee with a friend or something but half the time it’s to go somewhere and be alone with my thoughts. Which probably isn’t the best idea. But I have no other way to cope. I listen to music and I think about everything. I think about the pain. I think of ways to try and numb it. I think about ending it, but then I think about the pain that will bring everyone around me. As I’m writing this tonight, it’s because I thought I was going to kill myself again tonight. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I won’t let this illness consume me anymore. From the moment I wake up tomorrow, I will be focused on bettering my mental health. I’m going to reach out to some advocates and see if I could share my story with others. In hopes that I can teach others that it isn’t worth it.

People care about you.

People will miss you.

No matter how hard it gets always remember that ending it doesn’t make it better. You are not alone. I know I’m not alone. There are lots of people around me. I hope that after writing this, I won’t ever have another suicidal thought. But I’m sure I will find myself writing again if I do.

I’m hurting. But I will get better.

And that’s the end.

"Strength and growth come only through continuous effort and strength."
                                                                       - Napoleon Hill

Life Changing Encounter- March 2018

My next move will be a big change in my life. I do not know when that will happen. I do not have a timeline. There is no pressure to make an ill-fated and quick decision. I am open to the possibilities. I am optimistic about the future. It does not scare me anymore.

I am writing in good spirits tonight. I many have swallowed some anxiety pills, so I am somewhat mellowed out. I am calm and I am clear.

I almost killed myself once. It was a dark time for me. It was at that point in my life where I felt there was nothing left for me in this world. It was something I really believed.

Fast forward to the present. There has been a lot of work done by me and others to keep me above ground. A lot of sacrifices made by my family. A lot of support given by friends and strangers. Recently, something amazing has happened to me. The thought of it makes me smile still.

I met someone. No, not romantically, but met someone. At first glance, I could tell that this person was different and special. Something about this person made me excited and definitely not nervous. It was pure emotion and feelings from me. It was something extremely real to me. Something I don't know much of. Something I may have never felt before.

It was something good. Maybe, even great.

I couldn't stop listening to this person. Everything that was said meant more than words to me. It also meant something to that person. It was genuine. I may never see this person again, but for a few hours, everything felt real and meaningful.

When I present to people about my life journey, I talk about hope and finding meaning in life as a part of my recovery. My recent experience was one of those moments.

I never anticipated it, or even saw it coming. Maybe the greatest things in life are never anticipated. It was unreal. I told this person how I felt. I couldn't keep it in. I expressed to this person how meeting them made me feel.

This person made me smile like I never had before. It was also the first time in a long time I smiled from positive emotion. May people surrounded us, but I only saw one person. I heard only one person. I truly felt connected to another individual. That night never had enough hours, as I did not want the night to end.

Irony time.

There have been so many nights in my life I wished were over quickly, Many nights I wished I was dead. The pain was almost unbearable. So many painful nights.

This night was the opposite. The pain of all those nights combined couldn't compare or take away the pure happiness I experienced recently. Actually, I am glad that I did endure the bad times for that one night. Honestly, it was amazing and magical for me.

I've suffered for so long and so much. This person took away all my pain instantly. Nothing else and no one else mattered. This person brought me outside of my comfort zone and made me feel safe out there. This person challenged me and made me a better person, even if it was for a few hours.

Nothing sexually took place. There wasn't even a simple kiss or first kiss, in this case. There may never be a first kiss. And that is OK. This person made me feel, even if it was for a few hours.

This person reminded me why I continue to fight for my life each and every day. This person made me feel like I do have a purpose and I was worthy of life. This person reassured me that my life was necessary. This person inspired me and gave me more hope. For that, I sincerely thank you. You have no idea what kind of influence you had over me. You will never understand how much joy and pleasure you brought me by just talking to me. You made me a better person in a few short hours. You are special to me. I will never forget you. I do hope our paths cross again. You changed me and you did it by just being yourself.

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone."
                                       - Neale Donald Walsch

Forever Grateful,

T.J. Smith