Joanie Malarchuk is wife of former NHL hockey player Clint Malarchuk.
28 years ago the then 27-year-old ice hockey goaltender, of the Buffalo Sabres, suffered one of the most gruesome injuries ever seen in professional sport.
His throat cut by a stray skate, he survived thanks to his team’s trainer reaching into his neck to pinch shut the severed artery that would later need 300 stitches. Continue reading
Interview by Samina Raza
December 28, 2014
I had the great pleasure of interviewing Clint Malarchuk, NHL goalie, NHL coach, cowboy, horse dentist and now author of his first book “A Matter of Inches”, the title refers to the bullet in his head, as well as the skate that was actually a few millimeters from his carotid artery! This man is indestructible, thank goodness, knock on wood!
He suffered from OCD, horrible anxiety, depression, alcohol abuse, and finally PTSD because of a horrific hockey injury to his neck. Even dealing with all those mental illnesses, he became a great goalie, playing for, among others, the Buffalo Sabres. And then an NHL coach. While battling his demons and alcohol addiction, he put a bullet in his head and survived with no side effects! His book is a tour de force of honesty, truth and a no holds barred description of his life, good or bad, he put it all to paper. The book is a must read.
Written by: Wendy Sparrow
I’m medicated for OCD. I have to be. And it’s not 100% symptom control…more like anywhere from 30-60%. But my OCD is severe enough that I don’t expect total symptom control.
There’s this thing about going the medication route. You’re not working through your problems and coping despite them like you do with therapy. You’re not feeling them every moment like when you’re suffering with them or practicing avoidance. They’re a background noise…one that you’re ignoring, and the medication makes it easier to ignore them.
Written by: http://www.allinyourhead.co.uk/
When days become your night time and night becomes your day time, unless you are working a permanent night shift, there is a problem.
The anxiety/panic had become so bad, I could only sleep when I was surrounded by familiar faces and voices. In my mind, there was theory.
I’m a happy person generally, always game for a laugh and a joke , love a giggle and have to see people smile.
However, I was having attacks so frequently that my mind was set on the next one being ‘the one’ to finish me.
So my thinking was, ‘if it is going to happen, why don’t I die while the sun shines, where I can see or here my family rather than just sneak off in the dark of the night with nothing but silence and not having any happiness…?’ A very odd way of thinking for a man in his twenties?! I’d imagine me thinking of it in my eighties or nineties or possibly not at all. I had planned where when and how (heart attack) I was going to die!
I have never told anyone this but it gave me some sort of comfort.
Around my freshman year in high school, I received a diagnosis I frequently refer to as “the trifecta” — depression, anxiety and OCD. Depression was without a doubt the main diagnosis, but I found out over time that these three individual illnesses play off each other. Sometimes it was hard to tell where the symptoms of one illness ended and another one began.
Written by Janet Singer
I’ve previously written about recovery avoidance in those with OCD, and how heartbreaking it can be for family and friends to know there is treatment for the disorder, yet their loved ones refuse to commit themselves to it. I’ve talked about how important it is for those with OCD to identify their values, so that the desire to regain the things they hold most dear could hopefully propel them toward recovery. But still, time after time, I hear of those who just can’t bring themselves to embrace treatment.