It’s that feeling that I just can’t shake off. You know, one that just sits on your chest, heavy as can be. Gnawing at you. Taunting you. It wears me out. I’m tired. So tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of planning. Tired of strategizing. Tired of wanting. Tired of striving. I need to clear my… Continue reading Silencing Shame:How to Listen to the Voice of Worth
Can I tell y'all how excited I am for this weekend? I finally get to go back out to my land with my family and get lost in nature! Nature is by far, the best thing for my recovery and sobriety. All the programs, doctors, counselors, etc. cannot do for me what nature does. I… Continue reading Rattlesnake Ridge
My father wound ran so deep in my heart and soul it was part of my identity for decades. It was a wound that couldn’t be cured by running away. It couldn’t be cured by sleeping around for men’s attention. It couldn’t be cured by drugs or alcohol. It couldn’t be cured through co-dependence. It couldn’t be cured through isolation and depression. It couldn’t be cured by obsessive striving for success. It couldn’t be cured by becoming a control freak. It couldn’t be cured through anger and anxiety. It couldn’t even be cured through therapy and medication (though they were helpful). No. What it took was a relationship with my heavenly father to cure the broken relationship I never had with my earthly father.
We, as women, are expected to suffer. There’s this code that comes with having a uterus that states we suffer, we experience pain, and we push through, and we don’t complain. We can’t complain. We got shit to do right? Momma doesn’t get time away from motherhood for gynecological pain. The shit still has to get done, and I’m the only one who can do it. Life. Goes. On. I am so sick of normalizing pain, just because historically we have suffered through it. There was a normal, logical explanation for my pain, and I was told I was “fine” I was “perfectly healthy and normal”...until I wasn’t. Sometimes the pain is valid, it is abnormal, and we shouldn’t have to fight so damn hard to prove it.
Today offers an opportunity of reflection. 16 years ago every heart in America was in mourning. On 9/11/2001 there were 2,997 American lives were lost (per CNN) in the heinous acts of terrorism. For some, today is a day like any other, others will forever mourn for those they lost. For many of us though, if we take the time to reflect on the last 16 years, we can see the impact this date has had on our lives, on our story, on our journey. This is the tale of how 9/11 affected my journey.
Without further ado, I present to you my life story in a list. The "life list" is easy to read, yet powerful. It is minimal but effective. There are therapeutic rewards to reviewing your obstacles and how you overcame them. Check it out and consider sharing yours....you never know who it might inspire, touch, or encourage. Tell me one thing I survived that you want to know more about. I'll write my next blog on it.
Parenthood is often times a dreadful balance of good and bad, right and wrong, deciding whether to control or expose. I'm always asking myself if I went to far, if I didn't go far enough, am I enough? Am I good enough to be entrusted with these beautiful little lives? Certainly I am not worthy. Somebody throw me a life ring.
The news of Chester Bennington's death hit me hard. It hit me so hard that I couldn’t write about it until now. I realize what happened inside me when I heard the news, but it didn’t come to fruition until I found myself in my doctor's office.
Once upon a time I was a pregnant teen. I didn't know it then, but my path to self destruction had only just begun. It wasn't until I found recovery that I came to terms with the loss and suffering I endured as a result of my poor decision making. Read about how I turned that tragedy to triumph and used it to help me explain the birds and the bees to my own daughter.