by Andrew Neufeld | Dec 15, 2025 | Grief, holiday, hope, Mental Health, Seasonal
It’s been a while since I wrote for our blog, and as usual, it’s motivated by what I’m noticing in my own experience leading up to the holidays. The title of the blog is a bit tongue-in-cheek – anyone who knows my reading habits well knows that I love C.S. Lewis, who has a particularly brilliant book called Surprised By Joy. Surprised By Grief, however, is my attempt at humanizing the holidays, with a nod to my own discoveries of grief this year.
There are many definitions of grief, and certainly, many definitions amongst professionals. We were fortunate to have a grief expert, Dena Moitoso, do a lunch-and-learn with our team this year and it was very helpful (and yes, she is in fact, the mother of our very own Marcia Moitoso!). She highlighted so many important things about grief, but one of the most important in my mind, is that the experience of grief by an individual is heavily influenced by how their grief comes to be, and how it’s treated by those around them. I have to admit that through the course of my life I haven’t really given my own grief a lot of attention, understanding, or even acknowledgement. Perhaps it’s that German-Ukrainian Mennonite upbringing again, perhaps it’s my personality, or likely all of the above that has lead to this. Perhaps it’s neurodivergence – I know my ADHD certainly impacts how I see, and process many things. Whatever the case may be, I’ve been intentional this year to pay attention, mainly because I haven’t really had much of a choice because it’s made itself known in ways that weren’t particularly considerate of my desire to engage.
How It Started
It started with the loss of our dog, Buttercup, this past May. She was 4 days short of her 15th birthday when she passed. Understandably, it was heartbreaking for our kids, and for my wife. My kids can’t remember a time without Buttercup, and Buttercup was a constant companion for Meg, particularly in the early years post-accident. Buttercup could always tell how Meg’s pain was each day without Meg ever having to say anything. What I didn’t expect was how hard it hit me. I wrote a couple of posts on LinkedIn about it here, and here. Don’t get me wrong, I loved our dog, but I’m very much a dog owner who differentiates between dogs and humans. I didn’t think it would hit me as hard as it did, but here we are. What was different this time around was that I let it. I shared openly about it, with people in my life, with clients (as it seemed appropriate to do so), and publicly. I let myself cry, and that does not come easily to me, though I’m getting better at it.
Then, I was confronted with the grief of my own mental health journey. It’s still something I’m unpacking, but between my therapist not letting me off the hook, and me intentionally creating some space in my own life to pay attention, I’m starting to understand just how impactful it’s been on my life. Long story very short, I’ve started to grieve for the kid who discovered what depression was at age 6. I’ve started to grieve the terror he felt for the next 20 years, and all of the things he felt he had to do or not do in dealing with it.
This was amplified recently when we lost a client to suicide at the clinic. It always hits therapists hard when they lose a client, and it’s why we work as a team here, not in isolation. What surprised me about this recent experience was that, while of course I was heartbroken for the family and for our therapist who had worked with them, I immediately connected with my own experience earlier in life where it very well could have been me. That’s when the grief hit like a freight train – for myself, and for the client, and for their family.
Most recently, grief hit while I was experiencing a lot of joy. My wife and I don’t give each other gifts really, we don’t want more stuff – so we give each other time. We do our best to get away for a night together and eat good food, do things we enjoy, all without the myriad of distractions that go on in our daily life. We ended up at the Good Noise gospel choir concert downtown, directed by our dear friend, Warren Dean Flandez. It was phenomenal, and full of so much joy. And the grief hit me big time in the middle of the concert, and surprise would be an understatement. And then it was book-ended by joy.
All this to say, grief is complicated. Joy can also be complicated in that it can co-occur with grief and often does (in my experience). The Christmas story and the holidays bring both front and centre to me, particularly this year, and it happens for so many. We recently collaborated with Heron Hospice Society, Estuary Church, and Ladner United Church to put on an event called Circle of Light for community members who have lost loved ones. It was a chance to acknowledge the dialectic that are the holidays – so much joy, and often, so much grief.
How It’s Going
Christmas is a time I’ve struggled with a lot over the years with my depression – feeling like we’re supposed to be happy, when sometimes we’re just not. Or maybe we are happy, but it’s complicated with sadness, or grief, or both. It struck me this week as I was reflecting on the Christmas story, that the first Christmas was likely full of these things too. If you’ve read the story, Mary and Joseph were travelling many miles, with a pregnant Mary riding a donkey, to comply with the Roman census. When we read that “there’s no room in the Inn,” it doesn’t mean that they couldn’t stay at the Four Seasons and had to settle for the Holiday Inn Express. No, it means they found a cave, full of dirty animals that smelled like something most of can’t even imagine, and gave birth to a baby that in the Christian tradition, was to be the saviour of the world. Not how I would have planned it, and I’m pretty sure there were some complicated emotions.
What often amplifies this for me (and this is my belief, not something I am trying to push on anyone else), is that according to the Bible, Jesus would grow up and become a sacrifice for humanity to restore the relationship between humanity and an all-knowing, all-powerful God. Those last bits are important. What this means is that God knew what would happen to this baby before it was born, and He chose to send Him anyways. The part that gets me, is that He made this choice, knowing who I am and all of my imperfections, and did it anyways. I can’t image the level of grief, and the level of joy He experienced in this part of the story.
I tell you all of this, not because I’m trying to preach in a non-religious blog for a non-religious mental health clinic. I’m telling you this because it’s necessary in order for you to understand my experience and what I’m trying to share with you – because my depression, my anxiety, some of the hard things I’ve experienced in life, some of the things I’ve done to try to deal with these things in unhealthy ways, have often led me to believe that I’m unworthy, that I’m a hopeless case, that I’ll never feel better, and many other things.
This is why this Christmas story is so important in my own journey of grief – it helps me know that I’m loved, that I’m worth it, and that there’s hope, and it can get better.
Hope For The Future
What I’m hoping for in sharing this with you, is that you’ll hear me saying, “However you’re feeling going into the holidays is ok.” If you’re grieving, I’m with you. If you’re experiencing joy, I’m with you. If you’re wondering how you’re going to survive the holiday mayhem, I’ve been there and I’m with you. If you’re looking forward to it, I’m with you.
Feelings are complicated. We don’t get to choose them, we just have them. If you’re human, you’ve experienced things that lead to grief and it’s ok to feel that too. The good news is that we’re capable of holding seemingly opposite feelings at the same time. We can experience joy, sadness, hope, and grief together. That’s not you being a mess, or a screwup, or “too much,” that’s you being human with the rest of us. You just don’t usually see it on a Christmas card.
If you’ve made it this far, I appreciate the effort and I hope it’s been worth it. Since this is my last chance to do so before the end of the year, I want to say thank you for letting us take care of you here at Alongside You. We’re far from perfect, and we’re human just like you, but we do always, and will always do our best to be both human, and helpful in caring for you.
My hope is that whatever traditions you have over these holidays, that you’ll be kind to yourself, that you’ll know that grief doesn’t take a holiday and if it shows up for you that you’re not alone, and that there’s hope. I appreciate every client who trusts us to take care of them, and I’m excited for what 2026 holds for all of us.
Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and Happy New Year to you and all of your loved ones.
by Andrew Neufeld | Jun 4, 2020 | Connection, Counselling, Racism, Relationships, Stress, Trauma
Yesterday, I took the day off from work. Originally it was scheduled so that I could take my wife to another of her recurrent surgeries for her chronic pain, which thanks to COVID-19, has been cancelled indefinitely. It happened to line up nicely, however, with cabinet install day for our home renovation that is thankfully heading ever so much closer to the finish line. It also coincided with a need that I’ve identified lately – that is, a need for rest. What I didn’t expect is to be spending most of the day feeling sad. For a while, I didn’t know why I was feeling this way, until the question loomed in my mind, “How do I respond to racism?”
You see, I’m one of the ones who is, on most given days, gleefully ignorant about racism. It’s not that I am not aware of it, because I am aware because on different parts of the world I’ve lived in, different ethnic groups I’ve worked with, clients I’ve seen, etc. It is, however, because on any given day, I am not personally subjected to it. In fact, it’s been exceedingly absent in my life. While I was pondering this question about how do I respond to racism all day yesterday, I realized that I can only think of one time in my life where I was keenly aware that I was being treated poorly because of my race. The details of the situation aren’t important here I don’t think, and likely wouldn’t spark any sort of helpful conversation, but it does highlight that in 39 years I can only think of one time where I was very aware of being discriminated against based on my race.
This doesn’t mean that I haven’t been aware of being treated differently, because I have been while travelling. While I would suggest that it’s still not okay, it’s normal, in my experience, to be seen as other when you’re in another country, and even hearing words like gringo if you happen to be white. Or, if you’re living in Ukraine and your friend is from Korea, it’s not uncommon for kids to stop dead in their tracks and stare simply because they’ve never seen an Asian person before.
There’s a massive difference, however, in the experiences I’ve had versus those from whom we’ve all been hearing from in the past few days through the Black Lives Matter movement and protests, and the devastating events around the death of George Floyd. In all of my 39 years, I can only recall one instance where I felt unsafe or threatened as a result of my treatment based on my race.
This is in contrast to some who can’t go 39 days, or 39 minutes, or perhaps 39 seconds between experiences that make them feel unsafe, threatened, or less than.
This makes me sad.
It makes me feel a whole lot of other things, including mad, confused, angry, frustrated, scared, and more. But, if I give myself the time to actually sit with the emotions and discern what I’m feeling, the core of it is sadness.
I’m sad because although I do my very best to honour everyone, regardless of race, colour, creed, ethnicity, or otherwise, I know that at some point I have unwittingly made someone feel this way myself.
I’m sad, because a part of my heritage story is related to culture – my family came to Canada in the early 1900’s because they were literally being killed off for being who they were, and coming to Canada saved their lives. And we still have the same problems over 100 years later.
I’m sad because although my wife and I do our best to raise our girls to love and respect everyone they meet, from all races and creeds and backgrounds, they too will struggle to follow through and will make mistakes, and this will inflict further pain even into the next generation.
We come from privilege. We are white, middle-class, and I am male. This carries a privilege that I am becoming more and more aware of. It carries a responsibility to realize this, and understand this, and do better in our actions as we move forward.
Now, some of you may have just cringed at that last paragraph. Some of you may feel that what I’m saying means that those of us who come from privilege need to be sorry for, repentant of, or similar for the fact that we are white, grew up reasonably well off, and may be male.
That’s not at all what I’m saying, and that’s not at all what privilege means. It simply means that we have some advantages in life that others do not, simply by being born into what we’re born into. With that carries a responsibility to be aware of this, and use this privilege to care for others.
It also doesn’t mean we didn’t work hard to get what we have, to do what we do, and that we shouldn’t appreciate it, and enjoy it. It simply means that if we didn’t have the privilege we do, it likely would have been harder for us to have the same successes in life.
How Do I Respond To Racism?
Herein lies the problem. I am by no means an expert on race relations, cultural history, sociology, or otherwise. I don’t have any perfect answers to this, or even particularly qualified ones. Instead, here are some thoughts I’ve had over the past few days that hopefully might be helpful to us all as we wrestle with this issue of racism that I don’t believe is going to go away anytime soon. How do we respond? What do we need right now to make changes?
We Need Grace
Nothing highlights the need for grace more to me right now than writing this article. I know that it is nowhere near perfect, and doesn’t come up with any astounding answers to any of the massive, looming questions many of us have. I know I’ve made mistakes in this article in my own ignorance.
This highlights our need for grace as we navigate this challenging issue, in a challenging time. While this article isn’t authoritative, or perfect, it is honest.
This are simply my honest wrestling with an issue I don’t know enough about. It is the start of an attempt to lend help, even in my own imperfection, with initial thoughts on a complex issue.
I ask for your grace as you read this, and I would ask for grace for us all, from those who are subjected to racism on a daily basis. You don’t deserve this treatment, and we don’t deserve your grace – but, if you can muster some grace for us while we try to change our understanding and our behaviour, we will all hopefully win in the end.
With grace, we can have hope for a different future, one that honours everyone, from all races and cultural backgrounds. A future that holds promise for us all.
We need to feel sad
Understandably, there is a lot of anger right now over the state of race relations, and particularly over the death of George Floyd. And, there should be anger over what happened to Mr. Floyd, and what has happened to far too many people over the years who have been subjected to similar treatment.
In my area of expertise, psychology, we understand generally that anger is a basic emotion (one of the 6 basic emotions according to the Gottman Institute). Anger, however, is often a secondary emotion – based on underlying emotions that aren’t expressed.
One of the most common source emotions for anger that I see, particularly in men, is sadness. I know for myself, I am far more likely to express anger than I am sadness. It’s not particularly socially acceptable in North America for men to express sadness, but it is much more socially acceptable (if only for being more common) to be angry.
The problem is that very few productive conversations happen through anger and the expression of anger. It doesn’t mean it’s not valid, it just isn’t as effective in communication. If someone is angry with us, our back usually goes up and we become defensive. Very rarely is our response to ask something like, “Can you help me understand why you’re angry, please tell me more.” Instead, our fundamental biology kicks in through our limbic system and we go to defensive mode, and most likely, enter into our fight-or-flight stance (or freeze for that matter).
What happens, then, if we embrace the underlying sadness? I’d suggest it instructs us better (I can easily describe right now why I’m so sad about all of this versus if you asked me in the angry moments to describe why I’m angry), and it’s more effective in communication. If someone tells us they’re sad, we’re far more likely to respond in curiosity and kindness wanting to know more, simply because our limbic system isn’t firing.
“Anger is valid and ok, but we shouldn’t gloss over the underlying sadness.”
We need to educate ourselves
This may seem blatantly obvious, but it’s still the truth. We are woefully uneducated as a whole about racism, no matter what our background is. This is where I will plead ignorance regarding resources because I’m at the stage of doing my best to find out what some of the most helpful resources are.
There are two main reasons that we need to educate ourselves: to understand, and to reduce pain.
While I am early on in my journey toward education on this subject, I did come across this article that lists a number of resources that I have seen posted many, many times and seem to be helpful. Our very own Rebecca Farnell posted the book, Me and White Supremacy: Combat Racism, Change the World, and Become a Good Ancestor on her Instagram feed and it seems like it would be a good resource for those of us wanting to learn more. I am continuing to look to find resources that are suggested by people who know far more about this than I do. I’ll update this post as I find more resources as I hope it will be helpful to others.
The second reason we need to educate ourselves is because when it comes to pain, the inevitable result of racism, current pain science research shows that it is one of the greatest modifiers of the pain we experience.
Since I do have a particular interest in chronic pain and the psychological management of pain, I was reading The Explain Pain Handbook: Protectometer yesterday to try to find some resources for a client. In this book they explain that in terms of physical pain, embracing bioplasticity and education about pain can adapt the body to reduce pain and disability and increase life satisfaction (p.30). They also state that bioplasticity is based on the research on neuroplasticity which is the research showing that our brain is able to change over time, no matter our age.
What we do know, is that physical pain and emotional pain act the same way in the brain, and hit the same receptors. We have documented data on the effects of traumatic stress on the brain. It seems to me that if education can reduce our physical pain, it should help our emotional pain. If we know what is happening, we can respond differently, and this can change the impact on our neurobiology.
We need to connect
More than ever, we need to connect around this issue. We need to learn together, do better together, change together. I’m convinced that the solution to our problem with racism lies in human connection. It’s going to be a long road, but connection is where we start.
If we connect, we can learn from those who are hurting and change our behaviour. If we connect, those who are hurting can understand the perspective of the perpetrators and what they are trying to do to change, thus reducing their pain. Note well, this is not to excuse the perpetration, it is to understand one another’s positions and the efforts being made to change for the better, and to reduce pain in the meantime.
If we connect, we can reduce pain. I remember a study that Sue Johnson mentioned once (and I’m actively trying to find the study), where subjects participated in a random controlled trial on secure relationships and pain response. From memory, they had three conditions:
- Subject enters the room, is shocked with electricity, and their pain response is measured.
- Subject enters the room, a random person is also sitting in the room, and the subject is shocked with electricity and their pain response is measured.
- Subject enters the room, another person they have a safe, secure relationship with is also in the room, and the subject is shocked with electricity and their pain response is measured.
In that third condition, the study found that they could get the pain response down to almost zero. Let’s remember, the other person in the room did nothing other than sit in the room with them.
This is how powerful safe, secure human connection is. If we can find ways of doing this in the midst of our pain around racism, we stand a chance to weather the storm while we try to make the changes we need to make to do something about it.
Our commitment at Alongside You
I hope it goes without saying that everyone is welcome at Alongside You. We embrace all races, cultures, and backgrounds at our clinic. Our staff and associates come from all backgrounds, as do our clients. Our intent is to welcome anyone and everyone and that they would feel loved, and cared for.
I also understand that we are not perfect, and we too make mistakes. Here is my commitment as the Director of our clinic – if anyone has had, or in future has any concerns about how they are treated by our clinic for any reason, and particularly with regard to race and ethnicity, please contact me directly and I will sit down with you personally to listen, to learn, and to see what if anything needs to change at our clinic.
Safety, security, compassion, and respect are core to our values and I commit to doing anything I can do ensure that these values are communicated to every client by our words, our actions and our policies.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, and if you’re struggling with racism in any way, we’re here with you in the middle of it. Let us know how we can help.
by Andrew Neufeld | Dec 4, 2019 | holiday, hope, Love, Positive
As I sat in church this past Sunday, I was reminded that this time of year is supposed to be about hope.
For those of you who may not be familiar with the Nativity Story, the story of Jesus’ birth, is one about hope. Namely, that God came down in the form of a baby to save the world. What’s even more important to know, however, is that this is said to have happened in quite possibly the most awkward, unexpected, and improbably way possible: a virgin birth. This was beyond counter-cultural (and actually dangerous) in the culture at the time – both Joseph and Mary had some seriously difficult decisions to make and actions to take if this was to come to fruition without either of them losing their communities or quite possibly, their lives.
This got me thinking about mental health (yes, my brain goes there more often than not). It got me thinking about how I don’t often get excited about this time of year and wondering why that is. I think this year it simply crept up on me without notice and here I am, apparently in the Christmas season, and I haven’t even had time to think about it. I’ve written some of my thoughts previously, which you can find here. In short, I don’t get particularly excited about the holidays, presents, or otherwise. Some of it stress-induced, some of it is I’m not a particularly excitable person for these sorts of things, and some of it being I’m already thinking about January and it’s barely even December.
I’m Tired of Things That Don’t Last
I think part of my reticence around Christmas is that it seems to have turned into simply a gift-giving season where we give gifts that disappear shortly thereafter. Now, I actually really like giving gifts. When I have time, I tend to get creative and go all-out. I’ve never been one to get particularly excited about getting stuff. This goes for pretty much any gift, but especially the stuff we all give and get that lasts for a bit and ends up in the closet, only to be thrown out the next time we need to move.
Now, I should add to this, I always appreciate the gifts people give me. I appreciate the time that went into them, I appreciate how they taste (most people know I love chocolate and act accordingly), and most of all, I appreciate the time I spend enjoying them with others. For me, the real enjoyment comes with spending time with the people who gave me the gifts. This is what hits home, and this is what I remember.
All I Want For Christmas Is Hope
I haven’t been asked yet, but invariably I’ll get asked soon by people what it is that I want for Christmas. I honestly cannot think of a single thing I want for Christmas. For better or worse, I have every tangible thing I need – I’m very fortunate that way. This takes the discussion from needs to wants. That list is challenging because it’s very small, and generally, very expensive (i.e. I want to renovate my kitchen, there’s a laptop that could use replacing, etc.), and I would never ask for that for Christmas. And even in those areas, I’m fortunate in that I can usually find ways to get what is wanted, or I simply wait until it’s possible.
But there is one thing I both need and want. It doesn’t need to cost money, and it’s in plentiful supply if we’re all willing to give it.
“This Christmas, I need Hope.”
As I sat there in church thinking about anything but the sermon, tears came to my eyes as I realized what it was that I needed. Hope. It seems so simple, yet so difficult. One of the challenges of being a Registered Clinical Counsellor and running a growing mental health team is I am faced daily with the pain, heartache, and trauma that people experience within our community, and in our world at large. This takes a toll.
Before any of the people reading this who know me freak out, this is not a cry for help or a sign of burnout. I’m fine. I’m simply very aware of the degree to which people are hurting and are in need of hope.
This is simultaneously one of the things I absolutely love about my job, and about what we do at Alongside You – that is, we bring people hope, and often in times where they can’t see any hope for themselves.
Bringing Hope Can Mean Some Difficult Decisions
Part of what struck me about the Christmas story and the decisions and actions that Mary and Joseph had to make was how similar they were to some of the decisions we have to make when we’re recovering from mental health. It’s not an easy road, that’s for sure.
Relationships
This can be a hard one! Relationships are front and centre in any battle with mental health. Whether it’s depression, anxiety, PTSD, trauma, addiction, or otherwise, relationships are front and centre. Sometimes the difficult decision may be to tell a loved one about our struggles. Sometimes it may be to tell a close relationship that what they are doing is hurting us. Sometimes it may be that we need to end a relationship in order to pursue healing and recovery.
Sometimes, like Mary, it may mean telling someone something so personal, and even unbelievable, while simultaneously being scared that it will end the relationship and have significant negative effects on our lives.
On the flip side, sometimes, like Joseph, we’re the one being told something incredibly difficult to imagine or manage. What if our loved one tells us something so difficult that we have a hard time processing it? Staying present with it? Staying in a relationship with them, knowing this new information?
It’s difficult all around. The choices we sometimes have to make in mental health can be full of anguish, and even despair.
Consequences
There are plenty of potential consequences to the situation Joseph and Mary found themselves in. What about us? I know in my own journey with mental health, there have been many times where my battles have had very significant negative consequences on me and also those around me.
We don’t always make wise decisions when we struggle with anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, addiction, or other areas of mental health. In fact, more often than not, we can’t make wise decisions. It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s actually that we can’t. When we’re in fight or flight mode, our limbic system is in control and our cortex has flipped its lid. Other times, we’re simply human and we make bad decisions just like everyone else; it just means that sometimes the consequences are more dire or significant.
This Holiday Season, Focus On Experiences
I want to be excited about Christmas, I really do. I’m sure that once I’m off work (in theory) after December 20th, I’ll maybe start getting excited. My goal, however, is to get excited before then. I’ve decided I’m going to focus on experiences in my gift-giving this year, in the hopes that my gifts will last beyond the season, and selfishly, in the hopes that it gets me a little more excited even before I take some time off.
Why experiences you might ask? Well, because they don’t go to the landfill, for one. But the main reason is this:
Connection is what gives us Hope when we need it most.
As I sat with a client today, I reminisced a little bit about this, and it reminded me of one thing: In my entire history of working with clients, particularly with addiction, I can’t think of a single case where the connection wasn’t the solution. It doesn’t mean that medications, therapy, exercise, nutrition, and all of these other pieces aren’t important, because they are; what it does mean is that without connection, we don’t have hope. Without hope, we lose the point and the motivation for the other pieces.
Without connection, nothing else matters and nothing else works.
I truly believe this. Without connection, I don’t care if you have the best therapist, the best doctors, the best meds, the best exercise plan, or otherwise, it will not work.
Do you know why? Because without connection, the therapy won’t work, the doctors won’t work, the medicine won’t work, and it will all be for naught. The research shows us this fact.
What To Get Andrew For Christmas
So, this is a bit tongue-in-cheek, but I’m also serious. All I want for Christmas is hope. This is what I get excited about – people. People and hope are what drives me every day. It’s literally all I can think about in terms of what I want for Christmas.
I want people to have hope.
This is why all of my Christmas gifts are going to be experiential in some way. Not stuff. Things that will help people experience themselves, and the world in a more positive way.
So, if you want to get me something for Christmas, give someone an experience, a chance to connect with you in some way. And while what I’m about to say may sound like hyperbole, it really isn’t – you can change someone’s life simply by giving them this type of a gift. It may not categorically change their life at the moment, but maybe, just maybe they’ll believe that you care about them, that they are worth it, that they have meaning.
If you really want to get me something for Christmas, come to our conference in January called Let’s Talk Hope. This is a chance for all of us to get together and find hope for mental health in our community – through connection. If you’re stuck for a present for someone you care about, bring them too.
This isn’t me schilling another conference for the sake of a conference or selling tickets. Between you and me and the rest of the internet, we aren’t running this for profit. In fact, if we cover our costs we’ll be happy. Anything over and above our costs goes straight back into helping people with mental health struggles.
I’m asking you for this for Christmas because I truly believe it could be the start of something that changes the face of mental health in our community. Not in and of itself, not as a one-stop solution, but as a start to something that points towards hope.
If you are alive and are human, we need your voice in the discussion of mental health. It doesn’t matter if you’re a professional, someone who suffers from mental illness, a parent, or otherwise. Your voice matters.
If we sell this thing out, and we come together as a community to bring hope to Delta in the face of some of the most challenging times we’ve ever had, it will be worth it.
If only one person leaves and feels more worthwhile and valued, and loved, it will be worth it.
And I guarantee it will be the best $15-30 you will ever spend.
I believe in this so strongly that if being able to afford the cost of the ticket is keeping you from coming, please contact me directly. I will personally cover the cost of you coming to the conference because I believe it will be more than worth it, and I believe you are worth it. No questions asked.
“If I spend all my Christmas money on giving you hope, it will be the best Christmas ever.”
Christmas Is About Connection
As this is my one and only blog post about the holidays this year, I want to wish you and your loved ones a Merry Christmas, and happy holidays as you enter this special time of year. It is full of surprises, stresses, and joys. It is my hope that it will be full of connection for you.
The connection is what brings us together, reminds us that we are worth it, and reminds us that there is hope in all things and in all situations.
No matter what this season brings for you, know that we believe in you and your value, and I look forward to seeing you in 2020.
by Andrew Neufeld | Oct 9, 2019 | Events, Health, hope, Mental Health
One in five Canadians lives with a mental illness according to statistics from the Canadian Mental Health Association. In my experience, the rate at which people struggle with mental health issues of some kind is much higher. Most people suffer in silence. Statistically speaking, we are all connected to someone struggling with mental illness. While you’re reading this, look around you. I guarantee someone you just saw is struggling with mental illness and/or a mental health issue of some sort. It’s guaranteed. Are you surprised?
I remember the first time I knew what it meant to feel sad and not know why; and the time I realized that I felt this way a lot of the time, and still didn’t know why. I was six years old. It confused me deeply. I had loving parents, we had a house to live in and food to eat, I went to a good school, I had a good community of people around me. I still felt sad. A lot.
When I was a kid, nobody talked about mental illness, mental health, or anything in the middle. It simply wasn’t something that was a part of the dialogue. As I contemplated what I was going to write this morning, I realized that actually, I don’t recall any public conversations about mental health growing up, whether it was elementary school years, or high school. And while I like to joke that I’m getting old, it wasn’t that long ago that I was in high school.
It wasn’t for lack of experiences that could lead to a discussion either. I had friends who had very difficult home lives, knew people who lived through tragic accidents, I’ve lost friends to suicide, and more, never mind the statistics we now know about the rate at which mental illness affects the population as a whole. I’m not sure why it was not talked about, it just wasn’t.
Now that I’m older, and in the mental health field, I’m glad that there is more talk about mental illness and mental health management. What I find now, however, is that I can grow tired about simply talking about it and creating awareness, probably to a fault. Awareness is very important. I can only imagine the difference it would have made for me, or friends I now know struggled in childhood, if we could have heard about mental health and had discussions about it. The discussions, however, leave me asking the question, “So now what?” Many of the discussions I hear sound hopeless and don’t offer many solutions. As a professional, I’m also well aware that the solution isn’t simply more professionals and more mental health services.
Let’s Talk Hope
One of the things I’m known for, and is written all over my bios on various websites, is that I don’t believe in hopeless causes. It is one of my fundamental beliefs that there is hope in every situation, even if we can’t always see it when we’re in the middle of it. Last year, I connected with Connie Jakab who formed National Hope Talks and we collaborated on a conference in Calgary this past January. The conference is all about hope.
This time around, in January 2020, the conference will be hosted in Edmonton and Calgary, and together with 140 Sports, we’re bringing it to Delta. It’s time we went beyond talking and start acting like we believe that there’s hope.
What Is Let’s Talk Hope?
Let’s Talk Hope is a conference, or perhaps an unconference where we bring together students, teachers, parents, mental health workers, business people, non-profit leaders, and more to talk about Hope. We’ll have some speakers with lived experience and unique insight into mental health. This will set the tone for the day, and give some valuable information about what some of us are seeing in the community in terms of mental health. We’re also going to have workshops that incorporate different art forms and help build skills to manage mental health in our own lives, the lives of our community, and beyond.
The peak of the experience at Let’s Talk Hope are the incubator sessions. In these sessions, we get into small groups where people are mixed up to have at least one teacher, student, business leader, mental health worker, non-profit leader, etc. Each person gets 2-3 min to share their perspective and what they are noticing about mental health. Each group then writes down what was commonly shared and what could potentially be the solution.
We know we aren’t going to solve mental illness in one day. What we are going to do is create hope, and get creative, and talk solutions. Solutions that will come from every part of our community, not just the professionals.
Join us in Bringing Hope to Delta in January 2020
I can tell you that the first Let’s Talk Hope conference this year was one of the most powerful, encouraging, and hope giving experiences I’ve had in my work in mental health. It helps bring the message of hope in mental health forward, knocks down silos between providers, clients, and the community, and gives us a renewed sense of connection, of togetherness in this fight for mental health in our own back yard.
Does this sound like something you’d like to be a part of? We need to hear your voice and have you as part of the solution to bring hope to our community.
Join us on January 18, 2020 for a day of community, celebration, sharing each other’s stories, and talking solutions.
by Andrew Neufeld | Sep 19, 2019 | Children, Counselling, Tips
A couple of weeks ago, we published an article on what to expect at your first counselling appointment. We wrote this article in response to questions we’d been receiving from people who hadn’t been to a counsellor before and we hope it was helpful!
We’ve been receiving more questions about counselling appointments, and particularly appointments for children with a Registered Clinical Counsellor. So, we thought we’d write another article to address some of the things that are unique about counselling appointments for children. I won’t repeat the details of the last article, so you may want to read that one first, and continue here.
Consent and Confidentiality in Counselling for Children
Consent to Counselling
One of the questions we get asked is, “Who can consent to treatment, and can my child consent?” This is a bit of a tricky question in some situations, particularly around parental separation and divorce. I’ll save the intricacies for another article, but in general, one or both parents need to consent for their child to see a Registered Clinical Counsellor. If there are no court orders involved, either parent can consent but we always like to get both parents to consent, and also to provide history and input because we believe it’s in the child’s best interests to operate this way in most situations. The more information we can get and the more support the child can get, the better off everyone is.
In terms of when a child can consent to their own counselling, there is no black and white line drawn in BC in terms of the age at which a child can consent. One of the most commonly-used ages is 14 and is generally accepted by most service providers. If, however, you can make an argument that the child is what is called a mature minor, the child can consent as early as age 12, or possibly earlier as long as they understand what they are consenting to. In most situations, we use the age of 14 as a guideline here at Alongside You.
Confidentiality in Counselling for Children
Many parents find it unnerving to send their child to counselling when they are not in the room to witness what is happening and being said. As a parent, I can easily understand this anxiety – I know I want to know what is happening for my kids all the time! Here’s the challenge – counselling relies on a safe, secure relationship between the client and the counsellor built on trust. If the child thinks the counsellor is going to turn around and tell the parents everything they are saying, what are the chances the relationship of trust will survive? Probably not very high.
Every Registered Clinical Counsellor at Alongside You is responsible for their professional practice and so there may be some variability in how much input from parents is sought. What I would suggest is that most counsellors will seek to collaborate with parents as much as possible, with the best interests of the child in mind. The degree to which information is passed, however, is going to depend on the comfort level of the child and the strength of the therapeutic relationship with the counsellor. It will also depend on the counsellor’s judgement of what information would be helpful to pass on. If there is a suspicion of imminent risk to the child, confidentiality can be breached without consent, but this is a judgement call on the part of the counsellor and up to their professional discretion. I know this involves a great deal of trust on the part of parents, and it is not lost on us as professionals. We want the best for your kids and will hope to strike the greatest balance between these needs to help your child.
Who Comes To The First Appointment?
The answer to this question really depends on the age of the child, or what the child wants. For younger children (i.e. approximately 12 years old or younger), it’s quite common for the first session to be with the parents alone to get some history and background and answer any questions or concerns. This first appointment can also be split between the parents and the child, at the counsellor’s discretion.
For older children, it’s likely going to come down to what the child wants. If the child wants the parents to come into the first session, then that’s likely what will happen. If, however, the child wants to come in alone, it’ll likely be just the child in the session. This is to build trust between the counsellor and the child and allow them to establish boundaries around safety and trust.
How Can I Help My Child While They Are In Counselling?
Encourage Your Child
Going to counselling can be scary for anyone, and it’s a lot to take in for a child. One of the best things you can do is to be encouraging. Let your child know that this is a time for them to have a safe place to talk about what is happening for them. Emphasize that this is an opportunity to work through some of the difficult things in life, it’s not a place to go to get fixed because there’s something wrong with them. They are wonderfully made human beings who sometimes need a little extra help.
It may also be helpful to let your child know that you’ve gone to see a counsellor before and share how it helped you, in as much detail as you’re comfortable with and as is appropriate for the age of your child. Common experience and reassurance can go a long way.
Avoid Interrogating Your Child After The Session
I get it – you want to know what happened. We all do as parents. But, it’s not going to support the process if the child then worries about being interrogated after coming out. Instead, a helpful question can be, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about your time with the counsellor?” Realize that answer may be, “No,” and this needs to be okay. You want to give your child the opportunity to share their journey with you, not make a demand that they let you in if they’re not ready to do that yet.
Understanding The Reports You Get Back
We all love our children, and we want to believe everything they say. I remember when my parents would ask me what I did at school, invariably, my answer each time was, “I played and had a snack.” I, of course, didn’t do this, and this only every day at school. I was a very forthcoming child apparently. I also know, that what kids report back to parents isn’t always accurate (the same goes for adults), or the full story. This isn’t intentional necessarily, it’s just how our communication patterns work. I remember a client that I was doing EMDR with one time had gone home and told their parents that we had been doing ECT. Yes, that ECT that involves significant electrical charges to the brain in a hospital setting. Thankfully the parents called me to clarify and assumed that something got lost in translation. I’ve also heard clients tell parents, “All we did was talk about boring stuff,” or, “All we did was draw a picture.” While some of this may be true, there’s usually a lot more to the story.
It’s helpful if we all start with the assumption that the counsellor has the best interests of the child in mind and that we may not be getting the whole story when we get it from our child. Be curious, ask general questions, and if you have any concerns, contact the counsellor to clarify.
Trust The Counsellor and Your Child
I know it’s unnerving to trust someone else with the care of your child. I get that on both sides, as a Registered Clinical Counsellor and as a father of two young girls. Again, trust goes a long way and goes both ways in the relationship between parents and therapists. We want what’s best for your child, and we’ll do whatever is possible to help. Sometimes this involves us not divulging information you may want to know, and sometimes that may be unnerving for you.
We want to include you in any way we believe will be helpful for your child and your family. This sometimes takes time to develop, understand, and plan for. Your patience is much appreciated, as is your commitment to a process that may have you feeling like you’re standing on the outside at times.
Conclusion
Thanks for reading to the end! I hope this helps with some of the questions you may have about the first appointment with a Registered Clinical Counsellor for your child, and a bit about the ongoing process. Sending your child to a counsellor for the first time can be nerve-wracking, and challenging at times. Please feel free to ask any questions you like as you’re booking, we’ll answer them as best we can!
