Mental Health


A lot has happened in 2 years.

Pandemic 2020, George Floyd, BLM movement, de-funding the police, and court hearings for shootings against people of color, and finally the grave sites that were discovered just outside of Saskatchewan that held over 1500 bodies of Native CHILDREN. Children who died because of what they represented and because of their heritage. I needed to do something. What could I possibly do for change to happen or atleast try to make a change? I’m just one person in a world that has so much devastation.

As I mentioned in my previous posts I discovered Art and painting. I painted a picture one day of a Flamingo and Bumblebee. As I walked by it, an idea, a story came to my mind. A story about a friendship. About a Flamingo and Bumblebee becoming friends. Being very different beings, they take a chance and learn about each other and out of that forms a very good friendship. This is how I can spread the word and maybe make a difference.

My thoughts are to direct this to children as we can help them learn, explore and accept different beings. Not dismiss, ignore or judge others because of their differences.

I hope you will join me in spreading this message to your children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, etc.

You can find my book here through the following sources: – Copy and paste the links to your browser

ISBN: 978-1-03-913110-1, ISBN: 978-1-03-913111-8, ISBN: 978-1-03-913112-5

Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google Books, Kindle and all e-book channels.

Let’s educate our children and make a change!

This is

Being Me Sober

Mental Health

The terror behind the smile….

This picture my mom posted a few weeks ago. It was 2006, a day we set out to visit my Aunt, my mom’s sister, and my cousin.

We planned a great day. Leave early afternoon and spend the day downtown Toronto. Catching up after so many years of not seeing them.

I phoned my mom that morning. I couldn’t make the trip downtown. I just couldn’t go.

“What’s wrong?”, my mom asked. I said, “I just can’t go!” Crying and pleading with myself that she would just say okay we will make it another day.

Nope! Not my mom. She told me to take a shower, get pretty and come pick her up that we would have a great day.

I was pissed! I was angry! I was so hungover and upset because the night before was a disaster. A night of drinking turned to a night of rage and blackout. I begged myself to stop this madness. God, please help me.

I arrived at my moms, pretty as I could feel and full of smiles, saying I felt better. I was hurting and hiding inside. My nerves were on high, my eyes feeling like a sack of potatoes from crying, I was exhausted, and my anxiety was through the roof. How was I going to get through this day when I had no idea what I would go home too after this day was done. If I even had a home and boyfriend left to go home too.

My mom had no idea of the state of mind I had going on and what a mess I had turned into. Oblivious to the point I could not drink, that I am alcoholic. She never saw that side of me. She never saw the hurt, the past I carried and showed it’s face when I drank or the turmoil I was going through in my past marriage.

We pack our sorrows and troubles away and continue to wear the mask we always wear. The happy one, the fake happiness we display while dying inside to get us through and continue on with life.

I spent a long time wearing that mask. A long time hiding inside from the people that haven’t seen the side of rage and terror I acted out while in a blackout state of alcohol induced horror. Even I can not say what I did or said because I have no idea, I was blackout drunk. I have only heard a few things and I couldn’t stand to hear what I had been like. I wanted to comfort the hurting child in me, the wife who just wanted a functional happy family, the person who had been through some tough times, and hold her tight and let her know it will be okay. I couldn’t do that because I had so much hate for myself for acting this way. For being the person who was such a let down to others and herself.

Why is it so hard for us to give something up that hurts us so bad and keeps us stuck in the past? Addiction. What keeps us coming back to relive the pain and hurt we impose on ourselves and our families and most importantly, our children? Addiction.

We give what we think others need to see, to protect ourselves from the truth of addiction and for me, not wanting to speak of the past when sober or afraid to. We hide behind our smiles. We keep pretending that everything is okay. Until it isn’t.

When we come to the end of our journey with addiction from alcohol or drugs, or any sort of outlet we used to bury the truth and hurt, we may not feel like smiling or pretending everything is okay. We are sad, we are raw, and scared to deal with the emotions we kept hidden for so long. Once we come through on our path to healing, our smiles become true. True to ourselves and true to others. We shine a light that radiates through our soul.

It is a step that many of us struggle to take. Taking that first step is one of the scariest things I have done in my life but being able to smile with all the true happiness behind it is worth everything. Knowing that I am true to myself, my family and friends, and dealing with and letting go of the past without any mind altering substance brings the biggest smile of all!

This is Being Me Sober…

Mental Health

Can I say it has been awhile?

Hello fellow warriors! Yes, it has been awhile since I last wrote.

So, what’s happening? Other than, ugh, the whole world against Science, Government, friends, family. How did we get here? How are you coping with what’s happening around you every day? How are you spending your free time?

Myself, I’ve been creating, creating Art. Creating a soul reaching gratitude, and profoundly therapeutic hidden talent that I never knew existed in myself. I sat down one day, just a few months before this pandemic and, just started painting.

It was 2019 when I started to paint, and I wondered if this was just another random thing I seem to find myself indulging in at times and losing focus and excitement. But, here I am writing almost 2 years later, with a basement, aka – Studio, full of my creations, with every colour paint, every size canvas, ready to get at it.

It is a passion that has brought me so much joy. I now have 2 legitimate sales under my belt and hope to have more. I have a clothing line that I am playing with and a few other things on the go that I have to keep secret right now…to be continued. Although I never started painting to Sell or make it a business, but after friends and family started telling me to Sell my Art, I created KPZ Art this past summer.

I create because it makes me feel something so satisfying that I awake at 5am thinking of what I want to work on next. This passion and fire in my soul is something that I owe to my sobriety.

Every year of sobriety gives us something. You grow, you grow into the person you are here to be, the person you can be proud of! Let your greatness come alive. Whatever that may be. Just continue on your sobriety journey first and foremost, the rest will fall into place as it should.

My message to all of you who took the time to read or are new to my page, GROW!

Take chances, listen to your intuition, never think you don’t have it in you or you can’t do something. I am one of those people that said, “I have not one ounce of artistic ability!” Look at me now, I am not saying I am the next Picasso, but I didn’t give up when it didn’t turn out the way I wanted, I fixed it. I use to walk away from things, I never had patience. I didn’t have or want to give time to anything attitude.

The problem, I didn’t believe in myself!

Uncover the hidden that is within….KP

This is Being Me Sober