Ashes to Ashes

 A little over 2 months ago my life imploded and crumbled to dust. It was the darkest period of my life, even more dark than periods leading up to my divorce and early post divorce. Anxiety and depression assaulted me daily and I began a course of medications to find some balance. The side-effects of the medications became as much of a problem as the anxiety and depression, and it was one more battle I had to try to find the energy to fight and manage. But this story is not about the medications and effects, this story is about the creation of the ashes of my life.

I had a plan.

I had a plan to move to Bend, Oregon and raise my children in a town that better meets our needs and lifestyle. A town where I feel at home, safe, protected, and at peace. A town that values the outdoors, being active and community and connection. A town that strives to care for its own, and while it is not perfect it is trying, more than I see in so many other communities. I had a job in Bend, I had my non-profit in Bend, my best friend in Bend, and a growing community of friends through my job. I had a plan to move there and continue to grow the non-profit and eventually transition to working that full-time as a paid employee and likely a small job on the side to supplement income as needed. I had a plan to create a lifestyle that supported my physical and mental health in ways that are extremely challenging living in my current community. I had a plan.

Having primary custody of my 4 children does not give me the right to just move them across the country, I had to come to an agreement with their father to move them. In brief he was not agreeable to them moving, thus began a year long legal battle for relocation. On April 20th, the day before my birthday, we all attended court, the children spoke to the judge alone and expressed their opinions which were relayed back to me via my attorney. I found myself in the very real and very painful position of continuing my quest for relocation and likely being denied relocation and primary custody of my children, the only option that was guaranteed was to rescind the relocation request and have the battle for change in custody follow due process through the courts. In 10 minutes I was forced to make a decision: fight for my move and potentially win or potentially lose everything, or give up relocation and keep custody until it could proceed through the court. My heart was breaking, I sat in the courtroom hallway fighting back tears, breathing, shaking, trying to find the decision that met my needs and the needs of my children. This move was for me and for them, and I knew that if we moved it would be incredibly challenging for them, I knew that it would strain our relationship, but I also knew that given time and space to heal and move through it we would do well in the end. Having grown up moving I know the resiliency of children and moving, but also the trauma of it. I sat in the hallway battling in myself, the clock ticking, my heart racing and breaking all at once, torn, watching my world finishing burning into ashes. The last important component of my life fuse lit and burning out. I made the decision to pull my relocation request, I simply couldn't take the risk of not moving and losing primary custody. It would break me further than I was already broken at that point.

Earlier in the month of April I lost my best friend. My best friend of the past 3 years simply decided to stop speaking to me, stop being there for me, stop answering calls, texts, anything. Having been as close as we were and having supported them through so many trials and challenges it was killing me to have lost them, lost their support when I needed it most. I needed that person that simply understood me and grasped that this was more than "just a move." They knew what this meant to me, and understood how deeply important to me it was, and I was abandoned by them without explanation. A fight had been had 2 months previous that had not been resolved, but I had been hoping that we were going to move forward as we had in the past. Every other fight, disagreement, and confrontation we had had over the 3 years we worked through, and we always told each other we worked through it because we cared about each other. I still cared about my best friend and I wanted to work through it, but I also desperately needed that support from them. Support that I had received previously, and I could not, and still cannot understand, why it was withheld. Why, when I needed them the most they abandoned me? Left me, ignored me, triggering so many of my trauma responses I swirled and spiraled more. Court loomed closer, there were challenges with the children and court, my birthday loomed, and the person that I had been closest to for 3 years was missing by their choice. My heart broke, my soul adrift, and I began to crumble, to implode, unable to bear anything more, fire burning throughout.

I struggled to sleep, I struggled to eat. I struggled to get out of bed and get to work at the desk next to my bed. I did it though. I got up slowly, I struggled to focus on my tasks, taking double and triple the time to complete tasks as April wore on with the loss of my best friend and court approaching. With the loss of my best friend also came my resignation from my non-profit. The non-profit that I helped create; the organization that I built from the ground up; from the logo and community and website, that was driven primarily by my effort. It was a passion project, one that I poured my heart and soul into. I was proud of the work I did, it brought me much joy and it was such an honor to be a part of it. Yet the organization was changing and the leadership and I were in conflict and I could no longer stay with an organization that did not value my opinion, my work, my time, and did not appear to believe in open and honest communication anymore. The non-profit was the one thing that I still had hopes of, the one thing that was going to be my light in this time of extreme darkness, and it went away. With the loss of my best friend and my non-profit I crumbled, but had little time to grieve those losses. Medication was not working, therapy was still in place and yet it was still not enough. I was unbearably sad, yet also so numb to everything. My body and mind unable to process anymore hurt. Food was a chore, everything was a challenge, from a simple shower to making dinner. I persevered, the kids were fed, chores completed, and life moved on. I was not ok, yet there was no time, no space to fall apart.

I sat in that courtroom hallway with only a small fuse of life left, having burned away so much with the other losses, and now it burned away my job and my move and my future. Ashes, dust, nothing left, no pieces to make a puzzle. No strength. I am not a phoenix to rise from the ashes. I am a woman, nothing more. One who was incredibly broken, not ok, and yet still asked to carry on, to move forward. To grieve quickly and briefly because it's "only a move" "only a job", yet it was never just those things. It was a lifestyle, a safe place, a peaceful place, and a place that provided comfort in the pine tar and smoke tinged air with the snow capped mountains surrounding the town and the river carrying the heartbeat of the mountains within it. It was gone. My chance removed of my own accord. The sacrifice I made for my children that I did not want to make. I made it because of my deep love of them, but this was one that broke me. In a month I lost my future, my best friend, my safe place, my organization, and so much more. It's challenging to put into words all that was lost. 

I have not grieved it all. It seems impossible at times to grieve it all. Where do you start? How do you portion it out? How do you find the time and space and safety to become vulnerable when you are already dust? How do you share this with the world?

Two months later and I still struggle to find the words, to grieve it. Tears come at times, life is moving forward and there have been some incredible moments over the past 2 weeks and amazing people coming into my life, but I know I have more grieving and healing to do. I do not have a path forward, I do not know where I will be in a few weeks, a few months, much less a few years. It's ok not to have those answers, but there is so much instability that I drift. I am thankful for the people that have become anchors, and the new ones that are supporting me with open hearts and empathy. What a challenging time to come into my life, and yet as has happened before people have arrived in my life at challenging points and made such lasting impacts that I have a small amount of hope blooming again.

There have been more smiles and laugher in my life these past 2 weeks than there have in the past 2 months, for which I am thankful. I see and feel parts of me that seemed to have been lost forever. It is not a return of those parts, but an emergence of new. I do not have a path, I do not have a plan, but I find more moments of strength and courage. In this I can take some comfort, and in knowing that anchors are there for me.

Tomorrow begins the start of the next chapter. Tomorrow their dad begins his battle for joint custody and I have to find the strength, courage, and energy to fight for what I believe is best for my children. What is best for me as well. I am scared, I am terrified, I am exhausted, I am sad. Knowing I have a handful of people supporting me is giving me the strength to proceed and I will. 

As I have said so many times before reach out to your friends, to your family. So much of this story has been withheld, and maybe I will write more on it one-day, but without those people texting me in April, giving me hugs, and calling me I would not be where I am today. Without all of you being there despite me not reaching out or reaching out right before I would have fallen further. My heart has gratitude for all of you for being there, even when I told you I was alone, and you told me I wasn't. Thank you for letting me disagree with you and have the space to move through some of this grief safely. 

Turning 43 in the middle of all of this was not what I wanted, not what I envisioned and again I find myself with trauma on and around my birthday. Six years ago I knew my marriage could not be saved on the weekend of my birthday, a turning point in my life, and here I am with a no plan again coming off of a birthday. I love plans, yet at this point I can do no more than walk through each day, each moment, each breath and let things unfold.

Peace, I pray for peace.

I went backpacking

 I went backpacking.

I went backpacking Memorial Day weekend to ground myself, reset myself, and get away from everything that had been occurring over the past few days previously. Friday night I attempted to pack my bag, but my mind was too scattered, unable to focus on even the simplest of tasks of packing up my quilt and grabbing pajamas for the trail. Saturday morning I awoke, anxiety still looming, panic moving slowly throughout me, but at least I had a clear head. I gathered my equipment, my food, and prepared for an errand I needed to run prior to leaving. In the middle of packing and preparing a text came through from a dear friend: call me. My heart sank and my heart-rate skyrocketed, the panic began swirling faster and I took deep breaths, reminding myself I was safe. I replied with a simple, I will try, but I am not OK right now. A boundary, a piece of self-care, and a reminder to my friend that I had told them I needed space.

As I finished my packing and my errands my mind swirled, no response from my friend. I finally text them again: is everything OK? No response. I began my northwest drive to the trailhead, munching on my breakfast finally deciding that I will call when I finish eating. I knew I could ignore them, but my mind was swirling and spinning and I'd be thinking about it so I knew the best course was to deal with it head on. My phone rang and it was my friend. Nothing was wrong, but the conversation did not go well. We argued, picked at each other, and eventually I had to say I'm not OK, I'm not having this conversation right now, we can continue it when we're both in a better place. On I drove, music off and on, GPS guiding me.

I picked up my pack, loaded it on and headed south on the Appalachian Trail towards Duncannon, determined to close out another section. I was completing a section I had been avoiding because of a road walk. I headed down the mountain, across the Susquehanna, through the town, and then back up a new mountain. There I set-up camp at Hawk Rock, a lovely little outcropping with an incredible view of the river and land. I knew I needed to ground myself more, so instinctively I decided to cowboy camp (sleep on the ground without my tent). I was nervous, but felt safe and gave myself permission to setup my tent at any point in the night. The locals and I enjoyed a beautiful sunset and I drifted off to sleep shortly thereafter. A porcupine awoke me around 4am, and the sunlight woke me around 5, with the locals coming in around 6 to watch the sunrise. It was the first morning I woke up without anxiety looming and panic lingering. My head the clearest it had been in days. Sunrise, breakfast in bed, and then I was up and off to retrace my steps, now headed north to close out more miles in this Pennsylvania section.

A long 16+ mile day of hiking, but slow. I ambled about, not caring about time, just letting my body be and my mind wander. There were daydreams, there were prayers, there was quiet. There were other hikers that I passed and chatted with, whereas the day before I kept to myself, barely talking to anyone. I could feel myself coming back into me, coming back into my body, my soul grounding within me. On one particular section I fell into such a rhythm that I fairly forgot I was in Pennsylvania as my mind had drifted to other places. As the day progressed and I spoke with more people I felt more and more comfortable. I set-up camp at the shelter, my tent my home for the night. I ate my dinner among other hikers and attempted to chat with them, but the fatigue of the day and the previous days had caught up and I quickly excused myself. 

Tucked away in my tent I found myself again. The social interactions in passing in the day had been just enough, but dinner had been beyond my limits. A thru-hiker set his tent up across from mind and we conversed through our tents. I felt safe in my tent, away from him, but enjoyed the social interaction. It was a small gift given to me. That night I needed the security of my tent, just the same way I needed to sleep in the open the night before. This long anxiety and panic attack at least had me listening intuitively to my body and my needs in a new way. When your nervous system has been on overdrive for days filtering information becomes challenging and this time in the quiet of nature with the healing power of movement I was finding that connection between myself and my needs.

Monday morning I awoke, rested and connected. Grounded. Calm. No anxiety, no panic, just me. It was another gift. One I gave myself, one I spent the weekend working towards.

As I hiked back to my car all I could think was "I went backpacking"

Hawk Rock Sunset

Quiet, Comfort, and Tears

The tears that would not come yesterday have made their entrance today. A day that started with a need for quiet, for peace, for comfort and solitude. As my youngest went to the bus I made myself a small breakfast of yogurt, blueberries and honey, comfort food and nutrient dense. Something light enough to put in my stomach that wasn't overly interested in being filled, yet was asking for something. With my anxiety often being triggered by hunger I knew this meal was important, and it went down smoothly, yet by the time the meal was done I wanted nothing more than a snuggle and quiet. On my couch I soon found myself nestled against the cushions, unable to read, unable to do anything, my brain and body tired, exhausted. As I felt myself drifting to sleep I set an alarm so that I could make my way upstairs to work.

I settled into the couch and drifted contentedly in and out of that light space. It was not peaceful, but it was comfort. My phone rang, a certain ring tone letting me know an intimate friend was calling, but I ignored it. I needed space, I needed time, and I needed to be in the moment for me. As I made my way upstairs to begin my day the phone rang again, my person calling me a mere 10 minutes later, and again I ignored the call. It was too heavy, too much, all of my energy was being driven into logging into work to begin my day. I played soft music, instinctively knowing that the music I often listen to would be too much for my overwrought system. We rarely discuss the physical and emotional fallout that comes from a panic and anxiety attack. Fatigue, physical fatigue, poor emotional regulation, impaired coordination, body aches, altered hunger responses are a few of the things I have experienced throughout today. Thankful for a quiet Friday at work with no interruptions from my team and the comfort of steady, monotonous work I went about my morning. 

Today I set boundaries for myself with my friends and my business. I am taking the weekend off to be with me, my business, my passion project, will survive without me for the weekend. My friends were told I am not ok, but I will be and I need this space, this time to be with me. I cannot care for them, cannot care for my children, cannot do what I love if I am not ok. I am not ok. These boundaries are difficult. I want nothing more than to call my best friend, yet I won't. Maybe that seems counterintuitive since we are taught and told to reach out when we need help, but I know me, I know what I may do, which is share briefly and then focus on them. This delays going through my process. This delays my own healing, so I let the tears fall and do my best to honor these feelings and move into them. I cannot be who I am without tending to me.

Over lunch I went for a walk, 2 houses from mine I wanted nothing more than to turn home and take a nap. Maybe it was anxiety, maybe it was fatigue, maybe it was fear, but it seized ahold of me and I found myself tensing and my knees wanting to buckle at the same time. My body confused about what it should do, neurons firing haphazardly after the previous day. A few deep belly breaths and with mental fortitude I was able to walk the neighborhood, tears randomly slipping down my cheeks, a soft jazz station playing in my ears. Each song speaking to me, a gift from God and universe, in the midst of the tears I knew these songs were meant for me, meant for my journey, and spoke to me of something special. 

"and I'll see you in the high and low, in the high and low I'll find you" 

"You've got a friend in me, When the road looks rough ahead And you're mile and miles From your nice warm bed You just remember what your old pal said, Boy you've got a friend in me"

"Look now There's more to see See how I used to be There's a memory Something only I could know It's a wildfire Burns everywhere I go But I know the way home, I know the way home"

The day progressed, I eventually responded to a few texts, sent calls to voicemail and simply told those of you who reached out I cannot today. I simply cannot. There is too much to put into words, too much to process, and I don't know where to begin. The tears cannot fully be explained other than a physical release of everything. As my children came into the home my body changed, tension returned as they went about their day. They provided a small boost of energy to me, but as they left for their dad's this weekend I deflated. Thankful for them to be gone so I can focus on me, but I miss their energy, their love, and their distractions.

Sitting with yourself when you are in this space is difficult. I can be alone and alone with myself in many different ways, but this one is challenging me. I will see what the weekend brings. It is planned to bring me to the forest with a backpack, a journal, tissues, and my basic necessities. It will not be about crushing miles, but finding my feet, steadying my ground, and listening. Listening to the woods, to God, to the Universe for the next steps. Patience my friend I know it will say at some point. As part of me wants to revolt against this process I am gently reminded of the prose that I found this morning:

"We view our life by running at it head-on. By always chasing after one emotion to the next. We try to avoid pain by never acknowledging it, by always covering it up with people or places or things to do. But that never allows the pain to heal. It never allows the wounds to close over and create the scars that tell our stories. If we stopped and acknowledge the pain, embraced the pain as an emotion that belongs to us, then we wouldn't always be running" ~Watering the Soul

So I sit in these emotions, knowing that tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow will bring new energy, a new dimension to my healing. There will likely be more tears, there will be pain, there will be loneliness and struggles, but there will be growth. There has been growth today. The first day, the first step, the first moment is always the most challenging, but today I made that. I am not ok, but I will be. 

The Run of Panic

I can't adequately explain what it's like to wake up and know you're not ok. That the moment your eyes open you know you are simply not ok. The anxiety begins to course moving rapidly from your brain to your limbs and your stomach, sending it churning and your limbs feeling both overly sensitive and disconnected from your body. Then the panic begins, the beating and racing heart, a feeling of spiraling impending. The moment it begins you try to breathe, try to find your center, and yet you know that today those tricks are not going to work. That today, because you did not sleep well the night before and were unable to utilize your tools you are going to have to work at not having a massive panic attack.

I awoke in a strange bed after a rough night. I fell asleep uneasily, woke repeatedly with my mind racing, questions and conversations that needed to be had in the near future circling in my brain. Being in a different place I did not have my tools, my journal had been forgotten at home, no paper in the room I was in, and my phone battery dying so mindless scrolling, a game, or even writing there not an option. I took deep breaths, performed my visualizations, and simply prayed for sleep. It came, it went, the dreams were vivid and odd, not disturbing, just odd. I awoke to the morning doves calling and was at least reminded of a pleasant memory and dear friend, and then came the crash. I waited impatiently in my bed for time to pass so as not to disturb the others in the household, breathing and praying. Dressed I stepped quietly down the stairs and booted my work laptop to charge my phone and distract myself for a while. I found mindless tasks to distract me for an hour or so until my phone was charged enough to go for a run.

I prayed the run would move some of the anxiety and panic from my body. My heart was already beating fast and I knew this would not be an easy run, so I set out to run a simple 5k in unfamiliar territory. As I sat on the floor lacing my shoes, somewhat soothing music playing in my ears a friend found me and wished me good morning. I mustered a response, turned back to finishing my shoes, tears pooling in my eyes as I became overwhelmed and wanting nothing more than to go to my friend for a hug. Fear and anxiety kept me back, and knowledge that I did need to move my body, pound the pavement and put this adrenaline to some use. The run was hard, my legs wanted to quit, my heart-rate took forever to stabilize and I struggled to find the rhythm that I knew I had been achieving these past 2 weeks. I began to beg for tears, hoping that they would help me release more, yet the tears could not and did not come. I reached the halfway point and realized I had missed a turn somewhere, found myself lost momentarily in this new town. Thankful for an app with a map I found the turns necessary to make it back. A few sprints in the driveway to help clear away the last of the panic and I clocked in at 4 miles.

I breathed, I sat briefly for a picture and a vulnerable Instagram post. I breathed and paced and worked towards centering myself. Finally feeling a brief sense of respite I walked to the door to find my friend standing there with a worried look and "what's wrong?", I shook my head as my heart started to pound and I felt my chest seize, I squeezed out the words "panic, anxiety" and dashed out the door, headphones, phone, arm band in hand. Off I flew to my car, dropping them on my bumper as the panic rushed through my body. I was trapped, needing to flee my own body and yet there was no where to go. I ripped out my ponytail, pulled at my hair, shook my head, tried to take deep breaths, paced, and tried to find a way to escape and also calm myself. I heard noises, but I couldn't focus, my vision blurry as I withdrew inward wanting to escape the torture that was my body. Hands on the car bumper I hung my head, trying to breathe, alternating bending and straightening my knees as if pushing invisible pedals that would propel me away from myself.  If there were thoughts I could not manage them, nor can I recall them now. I heard a voice, indistinguishable as I formed a cup around my nose and mouth and did the best I could to focus on my breathing, knowing that centered breathing was my only hope. Yoga breathing and alternate nostril breathing could not be attempted, I could not coordinate my body to do more than it was doing. I was trapped within this disconnected organism, my skin crawling and my body shaking. Arms enveloped me and held me still, my knees and legs shaking at times. Maybe there were words, maybe there was silence, I cannot recall. I know that the physical presence, the rhythmic breathing of another individual was holding me together. A brief moment or maybe minutes later and I was able to embrace them, rest my head on their chest and begin to feel my body again, slowly. How long we stood in the driveway in this embrace I know not, yet it was what I needed. A shift in both of us and we walked quietly to the house where I sipped water and tried to find the words that would not come.

I thought I was fine as I stood there, but my dear friend knew otherwise. Asked me if I needed something more, asked me a question or two that I cannot recall. I remember saying I'm better, see my heart-rate has come down. Yet it had not, standing there I checked my watch to show them only to have it show at rate of 114 beats per minute, high above my resting rate. I sipped more water and we moved to a different space where I could find a brief respite.

We talked, we cried, we hugged and we found a way forward through my own anxiety and theirs. It was a painful goodbye as I loaded myself into my car, not wanting to leave this person who had been there for me. For the first time in my life when having a panic attack of this magnitude someone was there, giving me exactly what I needed. I did not need to pull myself together on my own, set a time limit on my phone to allow a timed breakdown, or any other the ways I manage these when they arise. Thankfully the times of panic and anxiety attacks are few, but I can recall so many of those and the feeling of desperation that courses through me, wishing for someone to give me simply a hug and hold me until I can breathe again.

Today was incredibly rough as anyone who suffers with anxiety knows the anxiety lingers, and panic attacks physically drain you. The anxiety ebbs and flows, with moments of lightening and moments that it crushes you. A friend called me on my drive and let me vent, a safe space to share the stressors of the past 12 hours and my feelings. There was no judgement, no commentary, a listening ear and holding of space. There was a text to my therapist who was able to squeeze me in last minute today for an hour where I just unloaded everything from the past 2 months.

Today it all hit, everything that has happened since I put in my resignation at my former job. There have been health scares, an ongoing custody dispute, a job in peril, a friend in and out of crisis, kids activities mounting and changing as the school year ends, and a nonprofit that I feel I am failing as I balance all mentioned and more. Yes, I am taking time for self-care. I am focusing on my nutrition and movement, running, lifting, and getting outside. There are simply moments when the mind and body can take no more and last night triggered a storm within me that unleashed this morning.

I am thankful for new understanding coworkers, a healing hug in a time that I needed it more than ever, and the 2 listening ears provided from a friend and my therapist. Tomorrow will be different, but today, today I am not ok.

Post-run moment trying to breathe

For the past 36 hours I have watched my best friend begin an incredible adventure. One in which they are continuing to follow a dream and are taking incredible steps to make the vision become alive and tangible. I have cried happy tears at the pictures and videos, simple joy at watching my dear friend find success. A new beginning is success, just as an ending is.

A short month ago we were both to begin new journeys, both fulfilling dreams that we have held close and worked diligently towards. Then a setback for my friend, one that threatened to take away this adventure, change everything, and alter life to a course in opposition to the vision. In the midst of their setback came my own, and we both found ourselves unstable in life. Our momentum stalled, sputtered, and we carried each other as best we could. There were long phone calls, texts, and a vulnerability between us that we had not previously shared. I watched in awe as a small community rallied with my best friend, supported in a way I could not, and I watched my friend begin to recover their vision, momentum, direction. In turn I waited for my own turning point, a clearer path forward, yet with each small forward movement another obstacle arrived. As my best friend finds momentum I find myself staring at these obstacles, forward movement at a minimum. The tears threaten to overflow at these ongoing challenges, and they do in small moments bursting with sadness and frustration. I would like us both to be on the adventures that we have envisioned, and I am not. 

In truth I am on adventure, it is not what was envisioned, not what was planned, not what was wanted. There is no peace on this new adventure, there is minimal joy, there is a lot of heartache, sadness, and anxiety. I know that it is a moment in time, that it will change, and that for now I must endure, but it does not prevent the pain. It does not prevent me from wondering when my own dream will be actualized as I observe my best friend begin to attain theirs. I am happy for them, thrilled especially at the joy and peace they are finding, yet I am sad within my being. This adventure of mine tears at me, creates anxiety that comes out on my skin, small itchy blisters on my fingers and hands, briefly held at bay with medication. It is an adventure that I hope will soon transform to what I had envisioned, what my best friend and I had both envisioned.

There remains a piece of hope that my own journey will find forward momentum and I will find peace as my best friend is finding theirs. Parallel adventures. For now I find joy in their adventure, as I await changes in mine.

30 Days of Thanks: November 10, 2020

Tonight I sit here, my stomach rolling from anxiety, and between the two it makes it challenging to find my gratitude. Though, in fact, the anxiety is the reason I need to find my gratitude. Reframe the perspective and reset the mind, as I sip my mint tea in order to soothe the physical side of the anxiety. With that I find myself thankful for the knowledge of my anxiety and the toolbox I have to manage it.

I have simple tools such as belly breathing, yoga breathing, and my 5 breath method. I could take a walk or a run or yoga. I could write; I could call a friend; I could call my therapist (bless her). I can cry too. I could go to sleep. Options- I have options, I just have to choose.

Two years ago I had limited options. I let my anxiety dictate a lot of my life, including my behavior. I almost lost a friend over it, that was the wake-up call that I needed. With a lot of work in and out of therapy I know my triggers, or at least most of them, and I have tools at my disposal. As the anxiety waves started arriving tonight and the voice crept into my head, one that tried to make me feel guilty for my own needs and wants, I knew it was anxiety. I knew it was from a poor night's sleep and being stressed about work projects. I knew it was from blocking parts of myself off and finally letting some of them out last night.

Emotional and spiritual growth are difficult, but there is always a choice. I can choose to stay as I am, or I can choose to evolve and grow. I can become a more authentic me. With the evolution of the self comes anxiety for me. It's the seeds of change, and when the uncertainty and feelings of instability appear the anxiety is triggered. I am thankful for the opportunity of growth and thankful for the knowledge and power to address the anxiety.

This is Anxiety

Anxiety spirals and spirals and spirals. Until you've lived it or maybe even witnessed it you can't imagine the destruction that it weaves throughout you.

It's every negative thought you've had on repeat, but when you know it's anxiety talking, it's taking the energy to tell yourself: "This is just anxiety. This is NOT me. This is NOT my truth."

It's playing the "coulda, shoulda, woulda game" on infinite repeat; trying to catch a small break and breath to shout, that it's in the past and reminding yourself that all you can do is forgive yourself.

It's hearing a song, seeing the happy pictures and anxiety taunts you that you don't have that, while you try to recall your abundant blessings.

Anxiety is shoving these crazy intense thoughts into a box while you try to function at your current activity, hoping and praying that it doesn't leak out. Waiting for the moment that it slips out and someone catches you in what feels like a lie.

It's feeling like a fraud when you know that just yesterday you were telling someone that you hadn't had a spiral in ages, and then having one come seemingly out of nowhere. It leaves you wondering what happened, what is wrong with you. And you tell yourself that there is nothing wrong with you, it's "just anxiety". But it doesn't seem like enough.

Anxiety tells you you're a bad person, unloveable, unwanted, abandoned, a mess, a failure and a thousand other things; that you'll never live up to those standards, even those standards that you set yourself. You take a breath and remind yourself that there are no standards, only the ones you set for yourself matter, but then anxiety cycles you back to the thought, which feels like fact, that you can't even reach those. On and on it spins into it's ever deepening spiral.

Anxiety tells you that you are nothing more than a label, that no one will ever see the real you. It tries to convince you that you are nothing more than that series of labels; that you have no substance. You shout into the void that it's lying, but the sound is swallowed within the depths. From there it produces every memory where no one saw you, they saw the label, the projection and you grow weary. Your shout, becomes quieter, eventually fading to a whisper as the fatigue grows and the anxiety spins faster and higher.

Your mental exhaustion is intense in the midst of a spiral. It truly is knowing that you're spiraling and not having the energy to fully stop it. Feeling futile as your known tips and tricks aren't working. Spiraling deeper as anxiety lies to you and says that you never had any way to manage it. That it will always be that way. It's feeling the seductive pull of the lies and the spiral as it eats away at your energy.

It's knowing that you should reach out to someone, anyone, and not having the energy, courage or vulnerability to complete the task. With that knowledge you cycle back to feeling weak, why can't you just fix this? You are the problem, but YOU are the solution.  These are the lies and seduction of anxiety. Feeling guilty that you can't fix yourself and not wanting to drag anyone into the chaos of the spiral. It's wanting someone here just to wade through the mess of it all and knowing that there is no one here, because you can't, just can't, in the moment reach out. Anxiety adds to that knowledge the lie that no one cares anyway.

It's hiding behind the laptop and this post rather than reach out, because anxiety has sucked your energy and your courage. It's knowing that tomorrow there will be an emotional hangover, but duty and life calls, so you plug on. It's gathering the dregs of your strength and shreds of courage potentially left to do the simple task of crawling into your empty bed and not have another spiral, while you pray for a healing sleep.

This is anxiety.

Memories on Repeat

How many of you play the shoulda, coulda, woulda game with yourself? You know the game where you replay those moments over and over and over again with how you would have done things differently? I have to admit that this game has been playing in my my head the past 2 days. It's one that I do not enjoy and one that triggers my anxiety and increases my anxiety. It's a rabbit hole of worry, worthiness and anxiety that can turn into a spiral of anxiety leaving me restless, unsettled and irritable.

Despite the game occurring in my head over the past 2 days I have been able to keep the majority of anxiety at bay. I don't know whether to be thankful that it is only a handful of memories that keep resurfacing or annoyed that I'm watching the same show on repeat. These moments are ones that are not necessarily pivotal in my life, but ones where a different statement from me may have made the situation have a different outcome. This is why I believe they are on repeat in my head, it's my way of dealing with the outcome of the situation that I have not yet healed from. I am working on accepting the choice I made in the moment and accepting the person that I was in that moment. And that my friends is a tough thing.

We all struggle on some level with acceptance of our imperfect selves. I have yet to meet an individual who 100% accepts their flaws and imperfections. Even the people that I know are so grounded and centered have something to which they have difficulty accepting. From our outward appearances to our mental health we all struggle. Personally, I struggle with this anxiety. It's there, a battle that I feel like I am constantly fighting, while at other moments I know it's lurking, hiding, waiting for me. I know it's the one thing that I would change about myself: I would heal the anxiety. Despite the lessons I've learned and growth that has come from it, it can be exhausting. I heal it a little bit everyday, but it's likely one of those things that will never 100% disappear. If I'm honest that bothers me, and I have to take a moment each day to make peace with that. Then there are days like the last few where I just can't make peace with it, playing the game and memories on repeat.

It will get better though, I do believe that. Faith and hope carry me through.

30 Days of Thanks: Day 6

This morning and most of the day I had a number of ideas about what I wanted to write about tonight, but now as I sit down to write I've forgotten all of them. That's what happens when you have an anxiety spike. Your brain shuts down and you have to fight for every second. It's exhausting in ways you can't imagine unless you suffer from it yourself. There are moments that I will take the post-marathon/long run exhaustion and soreness over the relentless nature of anxiety. Today's spike came generally without warning, though tomorrow, assuming it has passed, I may be able to see the signs. Regardless, I sit here trying to find something to be thankful and grateful for. Sure, there are canned things like my health, my kids, their health, etc. but they wouldn't be genuine. My goal throughout this blog is to be genuine. What you read is me to my core, it might be filtered for the sake of protecting individuals, but the emotions behind it all are real.

I could cheat and look on facebook to see what I was thankful for last year on this day, but again, I'd know I'm not being honest. Honesty is a quality that I value highly. I'd rather you be honest with me about things than lie or avoid or ignore. Honesty takes a certain amount and type of courage that you don't often see these days. To the men and women that I know that are truly honest with me I thank you. And there it is: I'm thankful for the gift of honesty.

It may not always be well received, but it's always appreciated.

30 Days of Thanks: Day 4

Mondays are my day off. It's my chance to catch up on stuff while the kids are at school. Today I got to have brunch with a friend, which was a nice perk. It made me realize how lucky I am to:

1. have a weekday off every week
2. have friends willing to join me on my day off for a meal

I typically use my day offs for errands, doctor's appointments, grocery shopping, etc. Today was a special day since I dedicated some time to truly just relax and be me. It's something that I am working on more and more, finding that balance between the "must do" and "want to do". I'm certainly a happier person when I take those much needed breaks and slow down. It's some of the crazy life lessons I've learned over the past few years.

Which brings me to my thankfulness acknowledgement of the day. Today, I'm thankful and grateful for the safe space that my therapist provides and the counsel. She is an amazing individual and we all should have someone in our lives like that. I know I've written about her before, but today I just wanted to take the time to recognize the work she does. This woman has guided me from a high anxiety state where I was functioning, but not thriving barely surviving, into a life where I am living and loving and enjoying life. She's graced me with the tools I need, held space when I needed to meltdown. Coached me through the meltdowns and allowed me the space to recreate me. Even when sharing my most vulnerable moments and intimate secrets I knew I was safe.

I learned that my emotions matter, that I was important. That my trauma was real and was my reality. I learned how to heal from my trauma, over and over and over again. I learned coping skills for when my anxiety skyrockets and I want to stay in bed forever, go on a crazy long run, or escape to the forest. I learned to recognize the warning signs of my anxiety and tactics to prevent the spirals.

She did not heal me; I healed me. She provided the safe space, tools and guidance so I could make the decisions I needed to make, recognize my own self worth and heal and grow. To my amazing unnamed therapist: THANK YOU.

Avoidance is not a good thing

So earlier today I wrote you all a relatively light post about clothing because I was avoiding the real issue. I figured if I wrote something that it would help, but by not addressing the issue I made it worse. Now that you're wondering what the issue was, it's such a simple complex thing. I was lonely.

I was lonely and it was triggering my anxiety. I did what I was supposed to do. I reached out to people; I did my deep breathing. I took a walk; I read a book. I engaged in distractions (bills and the Eagles game). Here's the thing though, I managed to keep some of the anxiety at bay, but not enough. So when my kiddos walked in the door after being at their dad's all weekend I started to lose my cool. I was snipping and snapping at them for no real reason other than I was anxious and their exuberance was setting me off. All I wanted/needed was a hug, but they were too wound up to give any. I found myself wishing that they were still with their dad, and then immediately felt huge mom guilt. I realized I actually wanted them home, but just asleep so that I could have them here. And even that thought gave me mom guilt. Let's just say that guilt+loneliness+anxiety was not a good thing.

Here's the truth about single parenting and split parenting, it's tougher than anything I've ever done, including that PhD. I love my kids with all my heart and I'd do anything for them. I want the world for them. I heard Jason Mraz's Have It All during the midst of my meltdown and all I could think about was what I want for my kids and how I was desperately failing them. I mean what mom wants their kids to leave within minutes of them being home? Me- this majorly flawed mama does. But we all know that's the anxiety talking and not the truth. It's tough to admit and even write about those parts of the meltdown I was having, but it's one of the best ways to conquer the shame and guilt.

With a little bit of managing I was able to get myself together and try to make some sense of the anxiety. Truth? A lot was rooted in the loneliness, but some is rooted in knowing that tomorrow, October 1, is another step in the divorce process as the lawyers head to court. It brings up fresh waves of grief. I was brought to my knees bawling in the middle of my kitchen as Dan + Shay sang From the Ground Up as I thought about what could have been and where I thought I would be. I never imagined I would be a single, divorced mom of 4, closing in on 40. I know the grieving and healing process takes time and this is just another step, but it took me off guard.

I spent the night battling tears while cooking dinner, eating dinner and bathing my kiddos. Anxiety, loneliness and grief are not a good combination. When they finally went to bed I was relieved. I could be present with my emotions. With a gift from the muses my streaming tuned into Shawn Mendes' In My Blood and I was taken in again, as I often am with this song. It's one of the few that can pull the tears instantly and again, I was crying in my kitchen, melting, wishing for someone to be here. If you haven't really listened to that song please go do. This is a section of the lyrics/chorus:

I need somebody now
I need somebody now
Someone to help me out
I need somebody now

Help me, it's like the walls are caving in
Sometimes I feel like giving up
But I just can't
It isn't in my blood

It really speaks to where I was at and what I needed.  My walls are crashing and I want to give up, but I can't and won't. I didn't get to where I am today by quitting. But truth, I'm lonely and sad and I don't want to turn out my light to sleep alone. That's the reality of my life tonight.

Just a Day

It's just a day. That's what I keep telling myself. I'll say it until I'm blue in the face, likely at some point with tears falling down my face. It's just a day.

But it's not just a "day" in my mind. It would have been my 15th wedding anniversary. And yes, even though I'm in the process of getting divorced, this day has meaning. It was the start of our life together, a day of hopes, dreams and love. I can't deny it and it doesn't make sense to deny the day. It was a magical day filled with friends, family and entertainment. From being so distracted outside the church talking that we delayed the start, to turning around because someone forgot to pack our overnight bags (not him or me, family forgot) to a really drunk best man butchering his speech and almost kissing the best man when the ex stepped away; it was a special day. But I'm not really at a space in my life where I can reflect on all those moments and more, without feeling like a failure and having regrets.

I don't know many divorced people that don't have regrets. I know many divorced women who also struggle with that feeling of failure. I can say the times it sneaks in I have the ability to remind myself of the journey that took me where I am today, and remind myself strongly that I did not fail. But today, it's nearly impossible. I'm cognizant enough to realize that it's really just my anxiety telling me lies and bringing those fears to life. That doesn't make it any easier. I just have to keep reminding myself that it is a grieving process. And this year, I am at a new stage as compared to last year. It's not better or worse, just different.

If we're completely honesty here I'd say I'd rather numb out the day with a long run, sleep and alcohol. But, it's Thursday and I have to work. In fact, I have an important session to co-lead today and it would be detrimental to my team if I opted to not show up because I didn't feel like it. So it's a put on your big girl panties kind of day and just deal with the real world. And hopefully in dealing with the real world I'll find some healing. And if you see me around today I won't say no to a hug or you all blowing up my phone with funny texts and gifs.

Spirals of Anxiety

A few years ago I was diagnosed with anxiety and I have been seeing a wonderful psychologist who gives me coping skills, an ear when I need it, and so much more. She's been a godsend. I'm at the point now that I can recognize when I'm in the midst of a spiral, and sometimes I have the ability to pull myself out.... today was not that day. Today, I was able to identify the root of my trigger which was lack of sleep and finding lice (again) in my girls' hair. That combo, along with attitude from the kids started me off on a path this morning that I knew was likely to lead to an anxiety spiral. I tried, I really did. I did my deep breathing, I took a time out (or 3). I gave my kids lots of space, but it hit me full force when I asked for someone to pack my bag so we could all go to the pool. When I got attitude again I couldn't contain the anxiety and off I went into this spiral. While, I know it may sound like anger, sometimes anger comes from anxiety (and we all know often fear).  And truth be told I'm still spiraling.

It's a scary place to be, especially when you're alone or alone with your kids. When you're a single, divorced mom with a limited social support network you don't have a lot of options. And I know at least one of you is thinking- call someone..... yeah I know, but when you're in the throws of an anxiety spiral you circle around that thought. These are some of the things that happen in my head: "call/text [her]" followed by "no! you've dumped/vented on her enough", then I might think of someone else which is typically followed with "they've got their own issues at the moment." And as all this circles and spirals in my head there's a part of me that 100% knows I am being irrational and the majority of my friends wouldn't give a damn if I called them in the midst of this. There are days I can gain enough traction to make that call/text, but today was not one of them. So I just continued to spiral, and it didn't matter that I was now at the public pool with my crew. I sent them off swimming and diving and opted to attempt to distract myself with the 'book.

(Now I should note, this is not a good option for me. It typically makes things worse. I see the happy families/couples and it ramps me up more. It sends a very real reminder that my family is very different these days and I am no longer part of a couple/team. This is not to knock my ex- he is very involved with the kids and loves them to pieces. But seeing what seems like everyone happy and together just makes things worse for me.)

But, while I was surfing and making myself worse I stumbled on this post shared by a friend and I started silently crying poolside. Because you see the writer could have been writing about so many of my own experiences. And in the midst of my anxiety spiral I was reminded (again) how lonely I was and how much loneliness I experience daily. It's in so many aspects, like being at the pool while surrounded by a family with 2 parents present, to being the only parent present at a school event (again not bashing- see statement above) or explaining to someone that you knew previously that you are no longer married. I feel like I have at least one daily reminder that I am alone. And when you combine it with spiraling anxiety that makes you think crazy thoughts about the choices you have made along your journey, you end up a hot mess. And here it is hours later and I'm still wrecked by both this blog about loneliness and my own anxiety spiral.

See, at this point in my spiral there's almost nothing I can do alone to stop it. I need that outside source, preferably someone physically present to be here to let me know I am ok and that I am not alone. But I AM alone; my kids are here but it is NOT their job to get me through this, nor is it appropriate for them to do so (they do know I am sad). So it's just another reminder that divorce is a lonely road and you can't fully understand it until you've been here. Anxiety robbed me of a beautiful day with my kids, and loneliness and anxiety are trying to rule my evening. It's likely at this point that I will burn out this spiral with a few more tears and wake up tomorrow with an emotional hangover. I had been hoping to comment more specifically on the blog post that I read about the mom loneliness but I can't gather my thoughts enough to be coherent, so I'll leave it for another day.