Pressure Cooker

Okay, tonight, I am writing to vent.

know that I am lucky that I haven’t contracted Covid-19 and neither has my family. I know that I am extremely lucky to be able to work from my home (the hubs, too), and that I am getting a paycheck.

But, can we for one minute acknowledge that sucks? Continue reading

Seeing the cycle

Mom issues rarely happen in isolation.

Don’t get me wrong–if you struggle with an unloving mother, or an abusive mother, or a narcissistic mother–or a mother so unlike that of “popular” culture–YOU feel isolated. YOU feel alone, unloved, and unlovable.

You look all around you and see other moms and daughters–shopping, having lunch, traveling together–and in YOUR heart, you feel a pang of sadness, regret, and loss.

If you are anxiously attached and seek relationships–ahem, ME–you might seek out other women as role models, letting them mother you as much as they can and also fearing the day they might take their leave.

But, maybe, one day, you will also transcend some of the pain and loss and bullshit. Maybe, one day, you will work your ass off in therapy, erect the strongest boundaries you can muster, and learn that you can be loved–and some people will continue to love you even through your less than stellar moments.

Continue reading

Meds

Tonight, I am a mess.

A struggling, emotional, scared mess.

As a teacher, I recently had a few weeks off for the holidays. Days were busy–a combination of Christmas, traveling, and getting back on track with workouts. (Because, you know, I have somehow gained more weight than I want to admit). Somehow, in the chaos of it all, I began to forget to take my antidepressant.

Last Monday, I woke up and had to go back to work. As I went through my usual morning routine, I suddenly realized that it had been at least a week or a week and a half since I last swallowed that little pill.

Continue reading

Mom.

I am going to try to write and process something that is rather difficult for me.

Yesterday, I finally had a chance to do another EMDR session. Once again, I concentrated on my fear of abandonment, and the chronic belief that I am unworthy of love.

The session began with the same triggering moment that always seems to surface–the day, right before 3rd grade–that my grandmother gave my brother and I “back” to my mom. The day she left us…the day that I panicked, and experienced what must have been my very first panic attack.

It is familiar. I have written and written and written about it.

know that it is a moment. And I have been desperate to dig deeper and try to understand why I am so anxious about losing important relationships. Why I spiral down into a dark hole when I fear I’ve messed up. Why I need reassurance that things are okay. Continue reading

I’m Doing This For Me.

 Until recently, I did very little in my life just for me.

Don’t get me wrong…I am not the world’s most selfless person. I can be stubborn. I can pout. I can whine until I get my way.

But…I also seemed to lack the courage and the confidence to ever simply be me.

It started young–I took care of others. That was my role. I was the peacekeeper, the nurturer, the comforter.  Continue reading

About the last month

I’ve written over the last month that I am having a really hard time. I’ve been down…dark, and depressed. I’ve been fighting bouts of anxiety and nervousness, and stomach issues that are a result of all of it, but also make all the stress and nervousness worse.

I have been feeling trapped. And stuck. And hopeless. Continue reading

Be who you needed when you were younger.

I sat up in bed, a curly, tow-headed little girl, peering through the darkness. A flashlight glared in my face–the police man glanced my way and walked on by. What was going on? Where were you?

I huddled in the corner, watching him smash things with a baseball bat. Screaming, begging him not to hit you, too. Grandma was coming–coming to take us away. I was terrified–where would you be? Were you coming, too?

I sat on his lap, squirming in pain. The lights were off, and huge dinosaurs were on the screen. He held me in place–I couldn’t get down. My objections were drowned out. Nobody was there to stop him. Continue reading