Category Archives: Anxiety

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He Could Be Me – A Reflection On Homelessness

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There were only two of us in the liquor store, an older fellow who was taking his time choosing his beer, and me. I was running around, distracted as usual, grabbing what I needed for the weekend.

By the time I got to the checkout, the older guy had beat me to it.

I didn’t pay much attention at first, and then I realized he was trying to buy one can of beer, looking for change in his pocket to pay for it. It was a Faxe, a Danish beer, and I had grabbed one of those for myself too. It made me smile.

Then I noticed he was was counting out his change coin by coin, but couldn’t quite come up with enough. The lady at the checkout and I looked at each other. He was short about 25 cents. He slowly dug into one pocket again, and then another.

I could see his clothes were a bit worn and his fingers a little dirty. He might have been in his 70s or older. It was hard to tell.

I ventured to guess that this fellow was probably living on the street, or close to it, like so many people these days. On my daily walk in Oaklands, I pass a park where there are a number of tents set up around the tennis court. People in tents and other people playing pickleball. Two groups living in stark contrast.

Sometimes a tent or two comes down, only to be replaced by others. When I count them, there are usually 6 to 8 tents stuffed full of, and surrounded by everything the occupier owns.

Every now and then the police and city workers come in and surround the area with yellow tape, asking people to pack everything up and go. There’s always a lot of garbage left behind, so there’s usually a garbage truck to deal with that too.

By the next day, the tents are back again.

It’s easy to think I’m a world away from all of that because I have a place to live and don’t have to worry too much about money. Although living on a pension is an eye opener.

But a number of months ago, a member of my family had to move in with us due to a series of unfortunate events. As we adjusted to another person in the house, inflation got worse and worse and the cost of living went through the roof.

It’s not only happening in my little family. According to statistics, in the last couple of years about 60% of Baby Boomers and Generation Jones’s are having to support children or family members in one way or another because of the high cost of living. I never once imagined this for my retirement years.

What on earth happened? I’m sure there are a gazillion reasons and, as usual, it’s very complicated. But it isn’t entirely new.

My Dad wrote in his memoirs about going through the “dirty 30’s” and his family having to live on what was then called relief. Another name for welfare. My grandfather had to wake his family up in the middle of the night once so they could sneak out of the place they were living. He didn’t have enough money to pay the rent.

And many years ago when I lived in downtown Vancouver, I’d walk down Robson Street on my way to work and see a number of people sleeping under the covered doorways of the stores along my route.

In the library where I worked, a few street people would come in when we’d open the doors in the morning so they could sit inside and warm up a little. Especially in the winter, or when it rained. There were no warming centres back then.

Poverty and homelessness has always been a problem to one degree or another, but now it seems even more so. I look out my upstairs window towards downtown Victoria where I see more and more new high rises popping up. But who can afford them?

Nobody I know.

I glanced at the liquor store clerk again. “I’ll pay for it.” I said quietly to her, reaching for my wallet.

“Oh, isn’t that nice? Sir, this lady has offered to pay for your beer!”

I smiled at him and picked up my Faxe to show him. “We have the same taste!”

He looked uncomfortable, almost embarrassed, and whispered a “Thank you.”

We finished the transaction, and he left with his beer. I moved closer to the counter. “I would have gone to the back room to get him the change he needed,” the clerk said. “We have some we put aside for people who are a little short of cash.”

I nodded, understanding. “Oddly enough, I think I felt better about paying for his beer than he did,” I said.

We are, many of us, one depression, one recession, and maybe even only one paycheque away from living on the streets. I turned and watched him walking carefully through the parking lot.

He could be me.

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Do You Still Wear A Mask?

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On the first day that the mask mandate was lifted here in B.C., I had an appointment at the optometrist in the mall. I was curious to see how many people would be without masks.

I was asked to wear a mask for my appointment, so it was hanging beneath my chin as I walked toward the mall entrance. Approaching the door, I placed it securely over my face, out of habit, or maybe just because I wasn’t ready to be without one yet.

How many people would show their faces?

When I opened the door, I was immediately surprised to see three ladies about my age, without masks. They were giving the thumbs up to each other. I assumed it was because they were happy to be mask-less, but I don’t know for sure.

I had half expected all of the mask-less minions to be young and male. Maybe that came from watching and reading too many stories lately about the so-called Freedom Convoy.

My guess was that about 90% of the people in the mall that day had masks on. They were all ages, although the majority were middle-aged and older.

Since then I think that number has gone down to maybe 50-60% or less.

The truth is that, for many of us, it feels strange not wearing a mask. Two years of heightened awareness, of strict protocols and news about upticks in COVID cases, deaths, and virulent variants, have made us extremely cautious. So not wearing one just feels wrong, somehow.

It took awhile to get used to donning masks in the first place, but in the beginning we used our creativity and embraced the notion of mask wearing in public. Well, some of us did. But it was a novelty, and as usual, the novelty wore off and the reality sunk in.

They were sometimes a pain to get on or off, especially with glasses or hats or hearing aids. They made it difficult to converse with people or to understand instructions. They made your glasses fog up. Sometimes it was just that much more difficult to breathe.

You’d think we’d all be happy to be rid of them.

I have a collection of masks from many different sources over the past two years. I have Christmas masks, funny masks, N95 and KN95 masks. I have mask extenders, ties and clips. I always have one in my purse, in my car, and in my coat pocket. Just like Kleenex.

But like many people, I’m not quite ready to be without them yet. “We need to support that. We need to recognize that we all have our own risks and our own vulnerabilities,” Bonnie Henry said at the news conference announcing the end of mandate.

I would add “anxieties”.

At this point, I find myself staring at people indoors without masks. Maybe I’m just not used to seeing naked faces. I have to keep reminding myself that masks are no longer required, at least for now, and people should do what they’re comfortable doing.

As long as the mask-less offer me the same respect.

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How’d You Sleep?

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So how did you sleep last night? Wouldn’t you know, I lost sleep thinking about this post, and how to write it.

Apparently, it’s common for Boomers to ask each other how well they slept. I don’t know if it’s a generational thing, but I would imagine many of us are struggling to get a good night’s sleep these days.

Sleep is everything, isn’t it? After a great sleep, you wake up refreshed and ready to tackle whatever comes your way. It’s so much easier to deal with everything physical, emotional, and mental when your body is well rested.

A bad sleep ruins it all. All of it.

What’s worse is when you’re exhausted and you STILL can’t sleep. It just doesn’t make sense! But sometimes it’s a sign that your circadian rhythm is off. You know, your body clock. People who do shift work can often have issues with their circadian rhythm because we’re hard wired to be up and around during the day, and asleep at night.

But the inability to sleep can be caused by many things. Stress and anxiety are top of the list. I’d venture to guess a lot of us are dealing with that right now.

Bad habits before bedtime don’t help.

Reading your Twitter feed before bed can be a sleep disturber. Actually, reading Twitter ANYTIME can be disturbing. But it’s about that light from your device, or so they say.

I like reading my e-book at night just before bed. Yes, it’s a murder mystery, so what?

Just as there are many causes for lack of sleep, there are dozens of “cures” for it. Pills and home remedies, different routines, audio recordings and even YouTube videos, are just some of the options out there.

Since I’ve heard too many horror stories about sleep medications, I won’t even try that.

A hot bath helps. I’ve tried different teas, especially ginger tea. As long as it’s not caffeinated, tea is comforting and cozy just before bed.

People I know swear that listening to soothing sounds or even white noise, helps them to sleep.

Getting enough physical activity during the day helps. I walk most days, and often twice in a day. When I walk I try not to think about anything. I just try to listen to the sounds around me, the birds, the conversations, my footsteps.

It doesn’t always work, but when I succeed, it puts me in a much better state of mind.

There are a gazillion websites out there with tips for getting a better sleep.

Something that helps me a lot lately when I roll over to sleep, is a little story I tell myself. You might call it a bedtime story. I close my eyes and start repeating it, same story every night.

It’s just something I made up. I repeat the details to myself as if I were telling it to someone else. Sometimes I have to start over again a few times, but I always tell it the same way.

Eventually, I drift off. Who’d a thought a bedtime story would actually work?? At my age??

Then there are those nights when you get to sleep okay, but you wake up at 2 or 3am. It might be a dream that jolts you awake, or a sudden snort from your partner.

If you’re lucky, you roll over and sleep finds you again. But sometimes you’re not.

If I get on that crazy train of thought, I’m in trouble. You know the one I’m talking about. You think one thing and that leads to another, and another, and another.

The next thing you know, you’re imagining every possible disaster that could ever happen. World War Three, the Big Shake, the Apocalypse. Heat domes, heart attacks, what’s that damn noise in my car?

On and on and….ahhhhh!

Sorry. Please don’t read this just before bed.