• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

LINDSAYGEE.CA

Fitness programs, workouts and so much more to help you keep active, motivated and on track.

  • HOME
  • Fitness for Mental Health
  • Safe & Sound Protocol
  • Blog & More
    • Blog
    • Podcast Episodes
    • Videos
  • About Me
    • Speaker Opportunities
    • About Me
    • Contact Me
  • Shop

The Importance of Buddy Check for Jesse for Our Family (and yours)

July 23, 2019 By Lindsay Gee Leave a Comment

Last night my son got to meet the man behind Buddy Check for Jesse. To say it was an emotional night would be an understatement. At least it was for me.

If you’re unfamiliar with Buddy Check for Jesse, it is an organization that brings mental health awareness to sport. Buddy Check is most known for the “Green Tape” initiative where kids tape their sticks with green (the color for mental illness) tape during the last week of October. It’s an incredible way to raise awareness and start conversations about mental illness – what it can look like, how to support, how to check on your friends, etc.

Most importantly was the message our coach talked about in the dressing room. The message of checking on your friends, of reaching out if you see someone struggling…of reaching out if you ARE struggling. It’s this message that created the environment in which my child could vocalize what he goes through and feel supported by his coach and his teammates. The green tape was a tool for the conversations. Now, every time Owen sees green tape, he feels supported thanks to the words of his coach.

Buddy Check for Jesse came into our lives last fall and it changed both my son’s and my life. It may seem like a fairly simple thing to do…tape a stick…but it was the conversations, the openness, the support received during this initiative that brought strength to both my son and me to speak out about what my son goes through (recently diagnosed with several types of anxiety and depression).

My son has always been open about talking about his mental illness – he does not know that this is uncommon – but Buddy Check seemed to really hit his heart and soul and light it on fire. He became braver, more vocal, more proud of overcoming his anxiety and – seemingly, more accepted.

Since the Green Tape initiative in October, Owen has talked openly about his mental illness as he battled hard all season. It was a very difficult season for us, but I believe he felt supported, accepted and honoured by his teammates and coaches. His openness to speak about what he goes through still humbles me and the messages he speaks constantly patch my heart back together and make me so very proud.

His main message: You’re not alone. You’re supported.

I mean…seriously. He’s 10.

During Owen’s 50 for 50 campaign to raise awareness for mental illness, we knew a large portion of the funds raised would go to Buddy Check for Jesse. Last night we were able to meet Stu and his wife and Owen donated $2500 to Stu and the work being done at Buddy Check for Jesse.

Last night I watched my son, shy at first, hand over his hard-earned money to a cause he truly believes in. As the evening progressed, I saw my son open up, be silly, and engage with Stu and Niki and I was just so proud. He even read an entire article OUT LOUD to them about how his dog helps him cope with his mental illness.

At one point Stu turned to me and said: “You’d never think he has a mental illness, would you?”. And we both just smiled at one another and shrugged our shoulders…because we know. We know mental illness looks like the kid or adult next door. The silly one, the quiet one, the loud one, the extrovert, the introvert, the sporty, the shy…mental illness does not “look” like anyone in particular.

In our case, it looks like a ridiculously kind, sweet, smart, funny, sometimes loud (aren’t they all?) 10-year old. For Stu, mental illness looked like a smart, kind, loving son. You simply cannot look at someone and know the battles they must wage to live the life they live.

Owen was given the gift of acceptance, grace and education through Buddy Check for Jesse and honestly, it was this initiative that helped me through an extremely difficult season. Knowing that there are many other parents out there advocating for their kids, knowing I wasn’t being judged, knowing that this is a big enough issue for someone out there to be fighting for awareness…I held that in my heart daily as we battled.

Owen was given gifts from Stu and Niki last night that took my breath away. I will keep those private, but I know Owen will cherish his gifts forever.

As we drove home from meeting Stu, on Jesse’s birthday, we had a bigger conversation about depression – a topic we haven’t discussed much. He had a lot of questions and I could see him grappling with the loss Stu and his family feel. Once again, we keep learning and growing because we talk about it. We talk and talk. I am honest and open with my son – hiding facts won’t help. So, he asked the questions I think he may have been nervous to ask before. I answered and I cried. When we got home, he was the one to come to me in our driveway and give me a hug.

My son is incredible. He battles 3-hour panic attacks, he makes it through “sad days” and he advocates for others to reach out and find support. He raised over $5000 to raise awareness for mental illness and he isn’t done. He wants to do more. So we will. Apparently forever.

The fact that my son, at 10, is using his own mental illness to let others know they aren’t alone, to raise money for organizations that help bring awareness and to not even think twice about sharing what he does – it humbles me and makes me want to be a better person for him.

Stu – Thank you. Out of tragedy and heartbreak, please know you’re helping so much. I am sorry for your loss, with my entire heart and soul – but we promise to continue to talk. We promise to educate and support and help as much as we can so others can find the light again. We will be here fighting our own battles all while drawing a sword to stand strong for others.

Owen, my son – you are the strongest person I know. I hope you know the strength and power you have inside you – but when you don’t – I’m here – arms wide, heart open and fighting for you.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting Tagged With: anxiety, childhood mental illness, depression, mental illness

#PushingForAwareness: 50 Pushups for 50 Day to Raise Awareness for Childhood Mental Illness

May 1, 2019 By Lindsay Gee 1 Comment

First and foremost, I need you to know that this entire campaign has been approved by my son. He has read every word, seen every image and approved every step of the creation and planning of this campaign.

Why is this important? Because although I dedicate this campaign to both him and his sister, the story is his and I want to respect his journey.

So kids, this one’s for both of you.

The journey of mental health with my son has been heart-breaking and exhausting, to say the least. His panic attacks began when he was in grade 2 and it is only because we had an incredible teacher (thanks, Shaye Sanford) who recognized what was going that we were able to label what was happening as a panic attack and not just “bad behavior”.

We battled panic attacks and anxiety for years, but this 10th year of his young life has been the most difficult. My son is the kindest, funniest, most incredible kid and to watch him go through what he went through…well…it takes a toll on a parent’s heart and soul. And, apparently, it wears a kid down neurologically and leads to childhood depression.

It was during this past year that I discovered a serious lack of resources in the area of childhood mental health. My son was in crisis for over 6 months and we were put on numerous waitlists. It took us over 4 months to get in to see a psychiatrist.

Every day my son would ask “are we off the waitlist?”, “can I go see a doctor now?” and every day I had to disappoint him and say “not today, buddy, I’m sorry”.

As he battled this illness with grit, determination, heart and a will to overcome, I watched my son in awe and admiration. How could he continue to put himself into a situation of panic and anxiety?

How?

Because he believed he could overcome and beat anxiety. Some days he did and some days he didn’t. But every day I was beyond proud of him. I’ve never ever seen an adult battle anxiety like my son battled anxiety. He was and is a true warrior.

These months have taken a toll on everyone in our family. My son started to have a minimum of 3 panic attacks per week. Long, 3-hour panic attacks. After every attack, he was exhausted. As his mother, I was left depleted, feeling inept and judging myself as a horrible mother who didn’t know what she was doing.

But, it wasn’t until my son started to have “sad days” that his Dad and I really started to advocate and battle for our son. Sad days are scary. Sad days will knock the air out of a parents’ lungs and will rip a heart to shreds. Sad days…are terrifying. During sad days, I would give anything, ANYTHING for a 3-hour panic attack.

I began pushing for answers. Researching. Trying to find resources to help educate ourselves as parents. I tried to find support for my child, my family, myself. I was confused and at a loss. I had no idea where to get support. Waitlists were awful. Waiting was awful. Watching your son day after day struggle IS awful.

The lack of resources for parents is a major concern.

The lack of resources for kids is a major concern.

So, what can I do?

Pushups. I can do pushups.

I realize pushups won’t do anything, but maybe if I do 50 pushups for 50 days in super random places, I can help. Maybe if 100s of people join me and do 50 pushups for 50 days, maybe…just maybe…more discussion on childhood mental health will happen.

#PushingForAwareness

This is a campaign for my son. This is a campaign to raise awareness for childhood mental health and to get people talking.

I want to raise $5000 for this cause and find resources that need the money to do their good work. I am supporting Buddy Check for Jesse, an organization I love and adore for their work in mental health in sport, Head & Heart SK who are trying to #EndTheStigma and any other organization I find along this journey that I feel aligns with my desire to help in the area of childhood mental illness.

Please donate, if you can. We’d be forever grateful. CLICK HERE to donate to help us raise awareness for childhood mental illness.

I will not fail my son.

If you believe in this and in what I’m trying to do, please donate or join the team. I would absolutely LOVE to make a difference in this world for my son.

I am standing for him and all the other kids and their families going through what we’ve gone through. I am your warrior and I will fight for you. Believe that.

If you need me, I’m here. Please reach out.

Filed Under: A Word About Family, A Word About Health & Fitness, Evolution of Parenting Tagged With: #pushingforawareness, anxiety, childhood mental health, childhood mental illness, mental health, mental health awareness, mental illness

Beating Anxiety with Love and Kindness

July 10, 2017 By Lindsay Gee Leave a Comment

Watching your child work his way through an anxiety attack can be an extremely heart-wrenching experience for parents to watch. It is emotional. It is often physical. Most heartbreaking of all? Your child will most likely say things about himself that will make you question absolutely everything you’ve ever done as a parent. He’ll say sorry so many times you’ll never want to hear those words again. He’ll put himself down with words that would make any person crumble, no matter the age. He’ll berate himself, he’ll shake, he’ll cry, he’ll sob, he’ll get sick to his stomach and he’ll make no sense to you at all.

That is what a panic attack looks like. At least, that’s how it looks for my own child. 

My sweet boy has been dealing with these attacks for a few years now and over the years we’ve worked hard to help him cope and come up with strategies.

But, all the strategies in the world won’t help if I don’t manage to get to him in time and the attack goes full-blown. The breathing exercises go out the window. Distraction won’t happen. When he’s in it, he’s in it full force and, for us, the only thing that brings our guy out of it is time, love and kindness. 

But, this post isn’t about anxiety. It isn’t about my son’s panic attacks. It’s about kindness, love and the incredible support of strangers.

My son received tickets to a Shawn Mendes (holy cutie patootie) concert for Christmas. He’s been excited and talking about it since then. The big day finally arrived and we spent the day together. All day it was smiles, hand-holding, walking around Vancouver together and all day he reminded me of his butterflies in his tummy. Noted, son. Noted. I knew he was nervous. 

We had a wonderful Mommy/Son day. Then, it was concert time. We walked to the venue early to beat the crowd (anxiety pro-tip: BEAT THE CROWD as best you can). We walked around the venue. We saw the merchandise lines and he decided he didn’t want to wait in the line and he’d get a shirt online (YAY!), so we went to our seats. He was pumped, excited and all smiles. 

The crowd was filled with young girls who looked like Taylor Swift and Selena Gomez. Did you all know bodysuits and flannel are back? I mean…back, back! Like…every single teenage girl was rockin’ my look from 1992! 

I digress…

Charlie Puth was the opener. Jeez…he sings a lot of songs I know. I’m so hip. But I just used the word “hip”, so no…no, I am not hip now. Shit.

I digress…

During Charlie Puth Owen decided that no, he did want his t-shirt. So, up to the lineup we went. We heard 2 Charlie Puth songs and the rest of the time we were lined up. We got the shirt and headed back to our seats.

The lights go down. My son grabs my hand and tells me he’s scared. The lights flicker. I tell him he’s safe. The audio opening starts. My son says he’s really scared. The light show continues. I tell him to breathe and watch for a spotlight. He squeezes my hand. There’s the spotlight and then Shawn Mendes appears onstage. My son smiles and lets go of my hand.

It’s loud. It’s very loud. Next to my son is a screaming teenage girl. The lungs on the girl were amazing. I don’t fault her. She’s a teenager at a cutie patootie Shawn Mendes concert. Of course she’s screaming. I related to her. She’s me at Bryan Adams. 

Digressing again…

The first song happens. We’re good. Second song happens, I see the change on my son’s little face. It’s happening. I ask “Are you ok?”. He says yes. 30 seconds later “Sweets, are you ok!?”. Yes. Third song starts. It’s louder than ever. It’s a favorite song. The girls are going crazy. I look at my son and I know. He says “Moommmyyyy”…and we bolt. 

Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me. Excuse us. Can we get by? Sorry. No, he’s okay. It’s okay. Thanks.

We’re now on the concourse and we’re in it. We’re panic attack city. We’re on the concourse and my sweet boy is grabbing his ears, sobbing. One hand in his mouth, the other holding his ears. “It’s so loud, Mommy. I can’t. It’s so loud”. All tears. All sobbing. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry”. 

Now, for my guy when he’s here the best I can do is hold on, let him know he’s safe and get him moving. So, I say let’s walk. He wraps his little arm around me and we start walking.

He’s sobbing still. He’s still in it. And he’s getting deeper and the attack is getting bigger and I’m trying so hard to be there for him and do what he needs. Then, kindness wins.

One of the staff from Rogers Arena comes up to us. He says “Hey little man. It’s loud, isn’t it? I get it. It’s even loud out here”. My son nods. And sobs. And bites his t-shirt. The man says “Maybe I can help. Maybe you need a drink. A Pepsi maybe?”. My son looks at me for approval and I nod. He follows my savior to his booth and the vendor says “Do you want it now or would you like to keep it for later”. Later please, my son manages. “It’s on the house,” the vendor says…and just like that…kindness broke my son out of his cycle.

My son, in all his panic and worry, turned to me and said: “that was really nice”. He smiles. Tears still on his face, he smiled. And he’s out of it. Kindness wins.

Kindness. Wins.

We continued to walk the concourse. My son’s arm around me. My arm around him. His little face red and swollen. As we walked, I received nods of acknowledgment from many parents. I felt hands on my shoulder and a quick squeeze from strangers in a show of support. Staff member after staff member stopped to chat with us. It was beautiful. Wonderful. And so heart-warming.

To the staff at Roger’s Arena, I cannot thank you enough. From security staff trying to make my son laugh, to vendors handing out earplugs, to the woman who showed my son the set list as he decided to leave so at least he knew what he was walking away from (making the decision easier for him)…I cannot thank you enough. 

To the man who offered my son a Pepsi and broke him out his cycle…I thank you with all I am. You saved my son that night from hours of illness and worry. The power of your kindness was incredible. I know it was a simple act. But perhaps the simple acts of kindness are the most important ones.

This world can be a glorious and kind place. During such times of hatred, unease and disturbing behaviors…there is kindness out there. 

We left the Shawn Mendes concert after about an hour of walking the concourse. The best part? My son made the decision on his own. He told me what he needed and he felt supported, not only from me, but from all the staff in that building. 

We got back to the hotel room and my son turned to me and said “Mama. That was really fun. I had a really nice time walking with you tonight”. 

15 words I’ve never been so happy to hear. 

Kindness wins. No matter what. Kindness wins.

Again, my many thanks to the numerous people at Rogers Arena for your kindness, compassion, understanding and non-judgement. I am beyond grateful. And, my son…he now has a wonderful memory of how kindness helped him. And, isn’t that an incredible lesson and gift to receive?

If only Shawn Mendes did small venue concerts…like a backyard BBQ. LOL. Now that, my son can handle. 

Filed Under: A Word About Family, Evolution of Parenting Tagged With: anxiety, gratitude, kindness, panic attacks, Rogers Arena, Shawn Mendes

About Lindsay

Lindsay is a health warrior, passionate about supporting others to find their best life and filling her days with a business she loves, a community of women she cherishes and a family she loves with her entire heart and soul. Read more...

Contact Me

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • LinkedIn
  • Twitter
  • YouTube

Our Most Popular Posts

  • 7 Things You Should Say to Yourself Before You Workout
    7 Things You Should Say to Yourself Before You Workout
  • Question to Ask Your Postpartum Friends - Signs for Postpartum Depression
    Question to Ask Your Postpartum Friends - Signs for Postpartum Depression
  • Spring Cleaning Your Fitness Equipment with Pine-Sol Spring Blossom
    Spring Cleaning Your Fitness Equipment with Pine-Sol Spring Blossom
  • So You Want a Metabolic Workout? Try this HIIT Workout Today!
    So You Want a Metabolic Workout? Try this HIIT Workout Today!
  • Healthy Chili Recipe! Turkey, Sweet Potato & Butternut Squash Chili
    Healthy Chili Recipe! Turkey, Sweet Potato & Butternut Squash Chili
  • Too Tired to Give a F**k
    Too Tired to Give a F**k

Categories

  • A Word About Business
  • A Word About Family
  • A Word About Health & Fitness
  • Anti Chef Recipes
  • Business
  • Evolution of Parenting
  • Family Fitness
  • Growing A Business
  • Health & Fitness
  • Healthy Family
  • Highs & Lows
  • Let's Workout
  • Mental Health
  • Podcast Episodes
  • Products We Love
  • Tips & Tricks
  • Uncategorized
© 2023 LINDSAYGEE.CA | Website by LL
 

Loading Comments...