Coffee Talks…And Talks…And Talks..

Coffee mug mockupEvery day this week I have cried. I have lost a good number of my VA clients due to them leaving the main company I contract for, my oldest child likely has Lupus, and now my mother is not speaking to me. Just a few items on the laundry list of reason why I have shed umpteen million tears this week. What are the sayings,

“God never gives you more than you can handle.”

And the ever popular…

“That which doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

Let me just say this, I will be bench pressing a couple Buicks later, and I WILL be charging to watch. Hey! I must earn that lost income back, somehow right? During therapy today, I dumped all this crap in my therapist’s lap, and then sat back waiting for the pearls of wisdom to ooze from his well-trained psyche. He yawned. No, I am not kidding…he yawned. Apparently, I was boring him to sleep. After he recovered from his near-nap tiredness he gave me some half-assed recommendations for increasing my work, but nothing overly tangible or actionable. More like, hey, you might be able to increase your business by more self-promotion.

I left feeling both better and worse. I felt better because I had a huge brain dump and getting all that out just felt better. I felt worse because I have no solutions for anything. Don’t get me wrong, I never expect him to solve my problems, but he is usually efficient at helping me help myself. I feel like I was left blowing in the wind out here. I told him the problem with my self-promotion is that my self-loathing always gets in the way…. he laughed. He thought I was joking, but I was not. Ultimately, he said he could help me with that, but again, no actionable items were offered. I know you are probably thinking at this point I need a new therapist…hmm. I do need to work on self-promotion, and possibly through doing so, I will stop a bit of the self-loathing thoughts that spin on the hamster wheel inside my brain.

As far as my kid’s health, really, only time, and more doctor’s appointments will tell. It is VERY likely that she has Lupus. I should probably treat her as though she does, do the diet changes, and whatnot. Hopefully in a month when we go to the rheumatologist they miraculously tell us she does not! At least this way if she they confirm she has it, we will already be adjusted to the dietary changes necessary and be working towards controlling flare-ups. I am still trying to wrap my mind around the idea that she has it. I just need to come to grips and keep it moving.

My mother has not spoken to me since Friday, and I have no idea why. She was very aloof when I texted her on Mother’s Day and did not answer when I called her. I told my therapist I have too many issues going on right now to deal with this passive aggressive bullshit. I am taking a mental vacation from her, until she gets over whatever it is she is upset about or decides to call and just talk about it. She knows everything I have going on now, and if the silent treatment is what she feels is appropriate, then silence she will get in return. I have no patience or time for cutting off communication. I tell my kids, my friends, family, significant other, I NEED words.

Wednesday afternoon, and I have two more days just to this work week alone. I am exhausted, mentally and physically. I need a drink…. of coffee. Do people without PTSD suffer from the amount of mental discord I do? I often wonder this. If I did not have PTSD, would I react the same way? Could I have been one of those people who is happy-go-lucky and just lets things roll off their back like water off a duck? I cannot even fathom what that would be like in my life. I have trauma after trauma, and I cannot even fathom just letting it go. I would love to, don’t get me wrong, but this is my norm.

Did I mention my 6-year-old brought home a picture that has me worried about her mental stability? Yeah, well, she did. She is scheduled to see her therapist tomorrow. Her teacher gave the students a page that said,

“What CREEPS me out is…”

The sheet had a place for them to write sentences and a place for them to draw a picture of whatever creeps them out. Now, at 6 I would think about things like spiders, snakes, clowns, Barney the dinosaur. My child, she said death. Yes, DEATH! My brain took a while to digest this, as I swing between a few emotions. On the one hand, I was thinking how mature she is, because that would be an adult answer. But then, I kept wondering how much fear she has inside that she even THINKS about death, like AT ALL. I decided to ask her about the picture. Boy was THAT a mistake. She became very upset and tried to throw the picture in the trash. It was as if she thought this would make it go away and I would totally forget about it.

I think if we had not endured the verbal, emotional, and mental abuse we had during the first 6 years of her life, I would be more surprised at this paper. But, because I know what she has been through, because most of it was aimed at me by her father, I honestly think this is somewhat “normal.” You know, a normal reaction to a totally fucked up situation. I will find out tomorrow because I am bringing that thing to her therapy session.

Up to Thursday now, and after dropping off my middle, and sending my oldest to school to at least complete her AP test, I start getting ready to take the youngest to her therapy appointment….but wait! A call from the high school, oh fanfuckingtastic. My oldest has passed out right before the test and I will need to come pick her up. Sigh….I was in the shower, literally, one leg in, one leg out, and now…my whole plan has been shot to hell. I hurry up and finish, getting myself and the youngest ready much faster than I had anticipated. I scoot over to the high school, pick her up, and head out to the counseling appointment for the youngest…which is 45 minutes away. On the way I call and make an appointment with our family doctor for the oldest, who has now passed out 4 times in 6 months. Thankfully, during the appointment we learn the reason for Death….apparently she has been watching too much Life….the show on Netflix all about nature and the cycle of life. Thank goodness, it is just a normal reaction to something. Oh yeah, and her therapist actually suggested I get her IQ measured, because she feels she is really advanced intellectually. Finally, something I actually enjoy hearing!

Appointment over, grab dog food on the way back home because I actually remembered we were out, and we get home just in time for our family doctor to call me and tell me to take the oldest to the emergency room for an evaluation. Ummm…excuse me?? I now grab the middle kid from school, run home to leave middle and youngest home while I take oldest to the ER…this was so NOT in my plan. Three hours later, we are discharged with instructions to follow-up with our family doctor…say what? UGH! So first thing tomorrow I get to call and make an appointment with our family doctor, again.

We are relaxing, FINALLY, and unwinding from our hectic, crazy day. My oldest leashes up her massive pup, and goes to take him outside. The moment she opens the door, insanity ensues. The shepherd from upstairs was coming down, and going past our door the very second my kid opened it to go out. The dog lunged at our dog, with my kid right there in the middle. She did the very best thing she could, she slammed the door shut, our dog inside, psycho dog outside. I jumped up and she was already crying and upset from what just happened. I went outside to see the dog and owner still walking away. I waited…stewing. When she returned we had a chat about what happened. She apologized and took ownership of her dog’s behavior, THANK GAWD. She said since she was pregnant about a year ago the dog has been protective, but only when on leash, and only against other dogs. We agreed to be mindful of when we each walk our dogs, and she apologized again. I wasn’t thrilled, but I don’t want to go to jail, so I’m certainly not gonna push the issue….

Every day things like this happen in my life, and I cannot determine if I am special, or if this is just life. It is all I know, but I feel like those around me, for the most part, do not have the amount of drama and trauma in their lives that I do. I feel like I know people that lead happy, peaceful lives in their middle-class suburbia, and not just on Facebook, but actually lead them in real life. I don’t know, my life need a filter… or ten. Can’t wait for next week….not.

Who’s That Girl??


“Be the woman you needed as a girl.” So many thoughts spring to mind when I read that. I feel sorrow because I never had the woman I needed as a girl, and I feel happiness because I feel I am the woman my girls need as girls. I feel confusion because I don’t really know HOW to be the woman I needed as a girl to myself. I know, silly right, just be the same person I am for my girls, for myself, duh. Easier said than done for some reason…well, not some reason, trauma reason. Now I feel angry because I hate that I use the word trauma so often in my life. I hate that I experienced so much trauma in my life. I hate that trauma feels more comfortable, more normal, than peace and tranquility. I hate that part the most. I hate that trauma has caused me to push away people who are healthy for me, while allowing toxic people to reign supreme in my life.

In order to be the woman, I needed as a girl, I need to look at the girl as I do my girls, not as I look at myself. If I stop and think of my daughters when I utter that statement, and not myself, my perspective softens. I have a great deal of anger towards myself, obviously. But over what? Logically, I know the things that happened to me were not my fault, not my doing. But since when does logic rule over emotion when dealing with traumatic disorders?!?! Yeah, never. Perhaps I don’t need to think of myself when I picture that girls. What happens if I picture my own girls, or some stranger. A child is a child, every single one precious, innocent, and fragile. I know, I know….what makes me different?!?! It almost sounds narcissistic, or at a minimum martyr-ish. Every child is innocent, precious, and fragile, except me, I was worthless, unlovable, and easily abandoned. Seems rather silly; actually, it seems cruel.

So what the hell, why do I keep punishing myself for something that I KNOW was not my fault?!?! Why do I keep up this self-loathing, self-hatred, everyone is better than me, and everyone deserves happiness but me….blah blah blah. I sound like a frigging broken record at best. Whining about why God gave me this life, why me? What the fawk did I do to piss him off to the point of dealing with trauma since birth?!?! Some people say, “He knew you would be strong enough to handle it.” *Insert blank stare* I really have no rebuttal for this one, other than, “Gee, thanks?” I mean I can think of a multitude of ways in which I could handle a great deal and not have to bring trauma after trauma into my life. Are you as sick of that word as I am by now?? TRAAAUUMMMAAA….I am almost to the point where it makes my skin crawl to say it or hear it.

How do I let go of this toxic bullshit way of thinking, and embrace the fact that I KNOW I am worthy, I know I AM lovable, and I know I AM amazing? Do not pull a Nike on me and say, “Just Do It,” because let me tell you, my friend, that does not work. I often feel like I need to take myself hostage, and instead of torturing myself with negative things, I have to force myself to do only positive, self-growth, empowering things. Things that I consider spoiling myself, and would never normally do, because…ya know, self-loathing. I feel like the only cure is to kidnap myself, proverbially speaking, and torture my negative-thinking brain with positive, affirming actions. Just bathe in it until I damn near drown in self-love. Only stopping when I reach such a kumbaya-like state with my self that I am borderline obnoxious.

The only thing standing in my way, me. I don’t know that I could actually force myself to do that for a day, let alone a week, or more. I would feel guilt over being selfish, and I would feel so far out of my comfort zone. Yes, I know, that is the point. Maybe I should….just give it a try. Make a list of things I would NEVER normally do for myself, and force myself to do all of them, and even more so, make sure I actually enjoy them. Maybe then I could be the woman I needed as a girl.


No Amount of Coffee….

Pickles1Look here Mother Nature, Universe, whomever you think you are…I know it is Monday, but seriously, the amount of bull crap you have put in my way today is just too much. Having to take my 5 month old Great Dane/Lab puppy to the emergency vet this morning was bad enough, but all the additional crap is just icing on the shit cake. I will not stand (or sit) idly by and let you condemn another one of my weeks down the toilet. No ma’am. I have had enough.

This morning I walked the pup, and let him curl up with me on the couch for some snuggles. Nothing is better than some massive puppy snuggles, even if he does smell like a wet rat. No bother, he is too cute to care. I got up to go pee, and wake up my high schooler, whose alarm had clearly not gone off. In the 2 minutes, literally 2 minutes, I was gone, my adorable snuggle bug turned into the biggest frigging moron I know. When I came back he was eating something. Of course he was, he is a huge 5 month old puppy, it’s what they do. I shoved my hand in his drool soaked mouth. Good Monday morning to me!! The only thing I pulled out before he swallowed was a tiny piece of black avocado skin.

I immediately began to freak out, completely. I Google’d what to do if my dog eats an entire avocado. It’s not like I don’t know what to do, I just needed that backing by Google to legitimize my freak out. I was not disappointed. I then looked up the emergency vets in my area, and called one. The lady that answered should never work with dogs, or any animals, or people for that matter. She was nice, but she told me to just let him rest, and that he would probably vomit and/or have diarrhea. I asked her about the fear of the pit causing an obstruction. Do you know what this lady said?? Well sit down for this one. She then told me that HE SHOULD PASS THE PIT. I mean he is a Great Dane/Lab puppy, but ummm, I know physics, and this dog is not going to pass an avocado pit. So I hung up, and cursed her out in my head.

I then called the other emergency vet clinic. I explained what happened, and this time, the person who answered actually consulted a vet before advising me on what my options were. I liked them already. I was told I could bring him in, and they would induce vomiting, or I could wait, watch for symptoms of obstruction, and see what happened. Weighing the options, and the thinking of the idea of this turning into a dire emergency which would be impacted later in the day by having to pick up my kids, and blah blah blah….I took him in to induce vomiting. It is amazing to me how quickly that works.

So, my dog is in the back barking and puking, thank goodness I can only hear the barking. The tech comes out and informs me they see a lot of avocado skin, but no pit. Well FML. So now, they can do an xray, and see if the pit shows up, or I can take him home and wait it out. Well, weighing my options again, we proceed with the xray. I mean, I am here, he is already puking, I want to know before we leave if he is going to be okay. The xray shows nothing. No pit to be found. I call my teenage daughter, who is at home with my youngest until I can get back and take them both in to school late. She searches high and low, no pit. The pit is apparently the second coming of Harry Houdini, as it has disappeared.

The vet gives my puppy the shot to reverse the vomiting. He is ready to go home, and of course, as they are bringing him from the back he shoves his head in the trash can and tries to grab something out of the can….clearly he has not learned anything from this adventure. I wrestle him into the car, and yes, I mean wrestle, and we head home. I have to get everybody where they need to go, and I am desperately searching for this missing pit. I have to do my work for today, deal with the dogs, and all before I even had the opportunity to have a cup of coffee…or five. I have not even mentioned all the kid fires I have had to put out today. Seriously, 24 hours in one day is just not enough.

So I implore you, Mondays, just stop. Just give me some peace and quiet, for once. I know everyone hates you, but seriously, this kind of crap is why. If you would just not come through like a bull in a china shop, no one would mind Mondays. I mean, I like my job, so I don’t mind that it is the start of the work week. I have no beef with you, unless you pull shit like today. Then we have problems.


Confessions of a Martyr…



I am a martyr, there I said it. And what?!?! I have spent my entire life putting everyone else’s happiness and well-being above my own. I spent all my energy trying to please my parents as a child, to no avail. I give myself completely in relationships to the detriment of my own wants and needs. I have all but completely enmeshed myself with my kids, trying to make them happy and garner my own happiness from their happiness. I am a martyr. I will do for anyone before I do for myself. I will drop everything to please another person before I will take care of myself, and then I become irate or wounded when it is not returned to me. I am a hurt little bird abandoned and unloved because I gave and gave and gave, and they took, and took, and took.

So now what you ask, we get it, you’re a martyr. Whatcha gonna do about it? I do not have that answer yet. For starters, I am acknowledging it, publicly. So I am hoping this is a step in the right direction. I guess now I work on setting boundaries, for myself and others. I learn to say no, without feeling like I have completely let the entire world population down in some way. I learn to make myself my own top priority. I learn to give to myself first, before giving to everyone else.

I grew up feeling responsible for my parents’ happiness, or lack thereof. My father left my mother the day after I was born. I was born with complications, more needs than he knew how to meet. So he checked out, emotionally and mentally, and to a degree, physically. While my mother always took excellent care of me when I needed surgery, emotionally, I was neglected and abused. I was made responsible for her happiness. I was not allowed to express my emotions, because hers took center stage.

Growing up this way has created a huge martyr complex in me. It has taken me years to see this, and honestly, I truly just viewed myself as the most nurturing person on planet Earth. I have always found my self-esteem through helping others and caring for others. I have said during many a job interview that I love assisting because it involves helping others live their vision. Sitting here now, I read that statement, and cannot help but feel sad. While it is great to help people and give to others, I have given whatever dreams and goals I may have for myself a back seat to helping others meet their goals. I have relegated myself to side-kick status for life, instead of being the superhero I really want to be in my own life.

I do love helping people, that part will always be true. Perhaps, instead of casting myself in the supportive role for life, it is time I find the spotlight in my own life. Perhaps I create the life I want, and realize my own dreams and goals. Now I just have to figure those out. I need to find my voice, my backbone, my strength. It is so difficult to change a pattern of behavior that started in infancy, and has been carried throughout an entire lifetime, but the alternative means remaining in a place of hurt, of weakness, of fear. I am more afraid to stay in this pattern than to move beyond this pattern.

So how do I stop being a martyr? I Google it, of course. From what I have been reading, the healing process starts with setting boundaries, taking time for myself, and allowing myself to be open to receiving from those who love me. The last one is probably my biggest struggle. I never really realized the true reason I struggle with that so much. I also have to stop acting like a victim…that, may be the hardest to do. I have this subconscious way of attracting and inviting trauma. I am working with my therapist to stop this, and it is probably a good thing I have an appointment with him today. I have to stop behaving like a victim in order to stop inviting trauma into my life.

I was almost happy when I was diagnosed with PTSD. It validated all my crazy feelings and emotions. It validated my insecure behavior and gave me the message that I am a victim, and now I have a disorder to prove it. Hmm, this is not how I want to live my life. I do not want to have a freaking psychological disorder to validate my victim complex. I want to live a happy, fun-loving life, successful in every way, and peaceful. I want people to love me because I deserve it, not because I have been through a lot and ultimately they feel sorry for me. I do not want pity. I do not want sorrow. I do not want trauma.

In order to move forward to where I want to be, I need to leave the place I have been stuck. I need to be ready to put down the baggage, and walk forward without it. I need to be able to look in the mirror and not allow what has happened to me, define me as a person. Yes, I have had traumas happen to me, but I am not a trauma. I do have the desire to heal, and thankfully, I am in therapy and working on it already. I will say though, this is freaking scary.

Old Habits Die Hard…


I feel blocked. No, not constipated, blocked. My energy, my potential, I feel blocked. I know it is because of the way I was raised, and the old beliefs I still hold on to because I am too afraid to let go. Blocked feels comfortable, as odd as that sounds. It feels frustrating, fearful, and yet, comfortable. It is what I have known my entire life, since birth. So how do I let go of this feeling, these stale, crusty beliefs that hold me back? How do I learn to release the krakken….no, I mean fear, and move forward? The other day I tried to listen to healing music and journal myself clear. Let me just say it rings true, “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.” By day’s end I was spiraling into a sea of negative thoughts and fear.

I believe that the world is made up of energy, and this energy flow determines what we attract, or repel, in our lives. I believe my energy is stuck, is blocked. I truly believe I am stuck because my subconscious refuses to give up the old, negative thoughts that were instilled in me as a child. So now, everything I want feels just beyond my reach. Everything I want to accomplish seems daunting and almost unattainable. Have you ever felt that feeling? Have you ever felt like you could see yourself at the finish line, but you have no idea how to get there, and the path along the way just keeps hurdling obstacle after obstacle?

How are we to keep moving forward when our own selves are raging against us, raging against the change we truly know we need? I listened to a podcast in which the speaker said to change your life 1% every day, and in a year you would be where you want to be. I feel like I am making small changes every day, and then, my old self, the self that is terrified of the new self, rages against me dragging me back to the starting line. How do we let go of fear and find faith, when everything we have ever had faith in has failed us, and we are fearful above all else? What is the cure for this?

I find myself exhausted, mentally and physically. I find myself distracted and missing things that I should not be missing. My blocks are inhibiting my progress, and I hate this feeling. How do I heal 40 years worth of neglect, fear, anxiety, and blockage, from my parents, my significant others, myself? How do I stand up to my subconscious and say enough is enough? How do I finally get what I want, what I need, to be happy? At what point is the change less fearful than remaining the same?

I need healing, I need to put myself on the top of my priority list, I need to set the example to my kids instead of just talking the talk. I need to show them what a strong woman looks like, instead of telling them how to become one. I need to face my fear, and shove it off a cliff…my fear, not myself, don’t worry. I need to be the strong woman everyone sees me as, and not the helpless, scared little girl I feel like inside. I need to empower myself, and stop focusing solely on empowering my daughters. Right now, as I write this, the one word raging in my head is, but, but, but, but….but nothing. I have to stop sabotaging myself.

And here I sit, waiting for the next words….but…nothing. I have to find the way. I have to find my way. I have to stop obsessing about this, living in fear, feeling blocked, feeling unworthy. I have to allow myself the same opportunity I want for my girls. I have to see the good in myself the same as I see the good in them. I cannot talk the talk and not walk the walk. They deserve better, and so do I, whether I want to believe it or not. So now what? Honestly, I have no damn idea.

Hey Baby, What’s Your Archetype?


I took a quiz this morning to determine my archetype. An archetype is defined as a pattern of power. It describes your personality, and how you interact with others. It tells what you gain power from, and how you value yourself. My archetype is lover, and it could not BE more spot on if I had written a dissertation about my personality. I am creative, emotional, a caregiver. I put others’ feelings before my own. I am deeply loyal, value honesty, and can spot a lie a mile away. I love hard, deep, and easily. I am full of more passion than 10 Valentine’s Days. I am vulnerable to narcissists and psychotics, enter my 2 ex-husbands. Everything it said about me was spot on. Now, I know what you are thinking, so? What do I do with this information? What does anyone do with this information?

Understanding that I am not just some over-emotional mess of a woman, helps me feel a bit better about myself. Seeing these things written out, helps me recognize that what I have is a personality type, not necessarily a disorder….although I do have several of those, but that is another post. What I do is utilize this information to help guide me down the path I belong. I embrace it, long story short. I learn to take my personality and make it work for me, instead of raging against who I am as a person. I learn to love me right where I am. I accept behavior from other people that I would never tolerate from myself. I hold myself to a standard I would never impose on others. I punish myself for feeling too much, and for not being able to control my feelings.

Honestly, it is no wonder I do not sleep, and no wonder I am exhausted all the time. It is not easy being so self-loathing. It is like a full time job, with no pay, because that would be a positive. So I will spend some time today, probably too much time today, researching this archetype thing and determining what I can do to make it work for me. I was listening to a webinar yesterday on abundance, and she kept stressing that we need to determine how we can get paid to be ourselves.

I am engaging, social, and people love sharing their problems with me. I am charming and charismatic, and love to speak in public and have all eyes on me while truly feeling as though I am making a difference. I have been through so much trauma, I could speak on almost any topic at expert level. How do I turn that into getting paid to be me, to rid myself of my abundance blocks, and let the lover archetype I am flourish? How do I do that, and not sabotage my entire way of being out of self-loathing? Well, clearly I need to stop the self-loathing part. LOL. I am working on it….every moment of every day.

I need to love myself as much as I love others, or heck, even more.

Help Me Mom…


I cannot fathom losing one of my children. I cannot even consider what parents who lose a child go through during the grieving process, and for the rest of their lives. Yet, I feel as though I was close to losing one of my own children. Two weeks ago, my oldest daughter had homecoming. She went to the football game Friday, slept over at a friend’s house, and attended the dance the next evening. I picked her up from the dance, she looked so gorgeous. The next two days she spent in bed. I thought she had overdone it over the weekend when she spent Sunday in bed. When she stayed home from school on Monday, I knew something was wrong. She stayed in bed, complaining of exhaustion and joint pain. The pain is something chronic, we have spent years dealing with the issue. The exhaustion, I attributed to her hectic schedule. I did not give her a problem about staying home, but I did let her know Tuesday she would need to get back to school. She never made it there, because by Monday evening we were in the emergency room.

Late Monday afternoon my daughter came to me, crying, saying she needed help. I sent the other girls in the other room, and tried calming her down. She was inconsolable, but I could not understand why. I know we have been through a complete upheaval and trauma for the last 8 years, but I honestly thought we were all on the path to repair. She was crying, and hiding under her hair. She was rocking back and forth telling me the bad thoughts would not stop. I kept asking questions, calmly, trying to understand what was going on in that moment. Then she uttered the words, “I do not want to hurt myself, but I cannot control all the thoughts anymore.” At this moment I realized, my daughter literally was struggling for her life. She was battling thoughts in her mind that were telling her to kill herself. My child was battling suicidal thoughts. I struggled not to break down.

I sat there, shocked, scared, and struggling to keep talking to her without having a nervous breakdown. What do I do? I have to help her, I have to protect her, even if it is from herself. I tried to calm her down, and assess the situation. Could she be calmed enough to wait until the morning for help? She said no. Should we go to the emergency room? Is there somewhere else I should take her? Do I call 911, or take her myself? What do I tell the other two kids? My mind was swimming. She was alternating between complete silence, and borderline nervous breakdown. I told her I would take her to the emergency room if she felt she needed help right now, and it could not wait. She said yes. I made sure a friend could keep the other two kids, and we left for the emergency room.

I sat there filling out the papers, looking at my beautiful, tortured soul of a child. Her hair was greasy, but still borderline perfect. Her eyes were red from crying, but still captivating and deep. Her body was twitching and anxious, but still in peak, athletic condition. My daughter looked so together, and yet so broken. I wanted to trade places with her, I wanted to take away all her pain, and make sure she never hurts again. They took us back, and I watched as the nurse systematically removed all the long cords and sharp objects from the room. I watched my daughter as she began to realize why the nurse was removing items. I watched a bit of the reality set in, and I watched her face fall a little bit.

Blood work, urinalysis, and mental health interview done, and here we sit. The mental health professional sits us down to review our options. Inpatient treatment at the local mental health facility. Three-five days of treatment, possible medication, and therapy set up after discharge. Option two, partial inpatient, ten days of 8-3 in the mental health facility, but she would come home at the end of the day. Long duration, and more school missed, but she would come home every day. I looked at my daughter, and I let her know I would support whichever decision she wanted to try. She asked me what I thought she should do, so I told her, let’s talk through it together and decide. Ultimately, she decided to go with inpatient. It turned out to be 7 days, not 3-5.

The first two days I was a disaster. I cried, uncontrollably. Guilt, sadness, and fear took over my soul. I visited her as often as I could, almost every single day with little exception. She is home now, and seems much better. She is on antidepressants and antianxiety medication. She is also starting therapy, and back at school. I have dealt with depression throughout my life, as well as anxiety. I have never felt suicidal, but I see how it impacts a person. I see the struggle in her eyes. I will always be her biggest cheerleader, her greatest supporter. I will always be her champion.

Mental health issues are still taboo to a point in this society. My daughter was scared for her life, scared about losing control and hurting (or killing) herself. She came to me for help, she came to her mom to fix it. Watch for signs in your children, and other loved ones. Let them know it is okay to struggle and need help emotionally. Support your loved ones in their emotions. Give them the support they need, and do not be afraid to seek emergency help. Suicide is irreversible. Do not wait until it is too late.

For Every Action, There is an Equal And Opposite Reaction…


Jonas Svidras


So the corporate job did not pan out. I was disappointed, greatly. I cried, quite a bit. I know I know, it’s a job. I guess I was looking at it as the greatest opportunity I have had in my life, career wise. It was that opportunity that would have changed our lives and reduced so much stress in my life. But, it is not meant to be. I took it hard. My oldest daughter took it hard. She is very concerned about money, and trying to reduce the amount of struggle we face. It is a great concern to me, and something I need to address.

Now what?!? I did not get the amazing job, that door closed. It took a week for them to tell me. I was certain I was all but a shoe-in. I mean, yes, I had my doubts, but I really had confidence. I have to let it go and move on. In the last week, I have picked up more virtual assistant clients, and started trying to write more, not that you would know that here. I have been working more on writing for therapy. Writing what may turn out to be a book, may not. I find myself going into self-preservation mode. I guess that is a normal reaction to this situation.

So now I circle the wagons. I regroup and focus on the work I have, instead of the work I do not have. It is difficult though, because the work I have pays so much less than the work I would have had. Can you see my obsessing, yeah, I know. Perhaps that job opportunity was but an obstacle put in my way, testing my devotion to my current career. Perhaps, I need to learn to have more faith in my abilities to create the income I desire in the career I have now. Maybe that is my lesson. I need to have more faith in myself to provide what I need, and stop looking to outside sources.

I had not thought about the situation like that, until about 30 seconds ago. Perhaps the path I started, IS the path I belong on. The job interview and the potential opportunity were merely a wrong turn in the corn maze of life. I lost my way for a moment, but now I am on the correct path. Honestly, I don’t know. I know I need to have faith in myself, in so many ways. I know I need to create a mindset of abundance, and positive energy flow. I struggle, as it seems every time I turn around something bad happens. I try to shake each of them off and keep moving. I try to inject humor into life and just keep it moving. Sometimes it is easy, and sometimes it is so hard I just fall apart.

I do not like feeling disjointed, and yet, I feel it often. Although, when I feel it most, I am drawn to self-preserving activities like yoga, meditation, and energy healing. So I guess I could be worse off. I could turn to food, drugs, alcohol, or some other self-destructive behavior. So it seems I do have some love for myself in there somewhere. I need to focus on that, growing my love from the inside out.

And Just When You Start to Doubt….



The universe works in mysterious ways. Last post I was lamenting, feeling a sense of lack, not feeling anything was working out and fighting the urge to be completely discouraged. Just when I was about to throw my hands up to the universe and say, “I give up, I don’t know what else to do,” I got a call. A friend of mine had recommended I put in an application for a job with her company. A job for a Corporate Communications Writer. I had filled out the application, but it has been several days and had not heard a peep from anyone. My friend had told me they were going to pull my application, but again, it had been several days since then….so I figured maybe my experience was not enough for their position.

In the meantime, I have filled out approximately 3-4 applications every day. I have also been looking at how to pursue my own Virtual Assistant business, so I could work without the middleman of a contracting company. I love the idea of making six-figures while working from home, but many of these gurus charge almost six-figures to teach you how they got to where they are….which is how they are making that much money. So to say I have been frustrated is an understatement.

Anyway, back to the phone call. I was picking my youngest up from school, and had been texting a friend while sitting in the carpool line. I was literally telling him how frustrated and impatient I was getting, and how disappointed I feel. My phone rings and I answer. It is a woman from the company with the Corporate Communications Writer position. She wants to do a phone interview…RIGHT NOW!! So of course, I shush my daughter, and we start talking about the job. I was very honest about my experience, and why it is I need something different than my current employment situation.  The woman wants to set up an in person interview, and send me the links I will need to complete writing samples to bring with me.

OMG…is this real?? I am so excited at this point, I can hardly contain myself. I know I was not offered the job yet….but I really feel like I have a great chance at getting the position. It pays great, offers the benefits I will need, and is a family friendly company. I would love the opportunity to write for a living, even if it is corporate writing, because any writing is writing. If I can write website content to sell “prepper” supplies, I can certainly write corporate content.

I cannot wait to get to these writing samples, I am truly going to knock them out of the park. Just when I was feeling frustrated, down, and very discouraged, the universe gave me what I needed to get me motivated again. I am so excited. Even if this happens to not work out for some reason, I know I will end up where I belong even if it takes longer than I like. Chin up and all that mess. The universe gives you what you need, when you need it, and you are where you are for a reason. Lessons abound everywhere in life.

Instead of focusing on the minutiae, we have to learn to live in each moment and gather from that moment what we are meant to learn. I have to learn patience with myself, and how to pick myself up, instead of letting my thoughts get the best of me. I have to learn to be my own cheerleader, instead of relying on others to pick me up because I have gotten so down on myself. My negative self-chatter is unacceptable. If any one of my girls talked about or to themselves the way I do in my head, I would be so sad. I am their example, and I need to be a great one. On the up-side, I am working on it, and every day, I do a little better.

Sometimes the Answer is Right Under Your Nose….Sometimes.

I have been struggling lately with what direction I want to take my professional life. Since becoming pregnant with my first child I always felt my place was at home. Now, do not get me wrong, I do not sit in judgement of those who pursue a career outside the home. Quite the opposite, really. I sit in wonder as they have always been able to provide for themselves and their children without having to wait on the breadwinner to bring home the proverbial bacon. I always loathed that feeling of dependence, but was never quite sure what to do about it. When I was a single mom the first time, I worked in childcare and had my kids there in the building. Now, I know I do not want to do that, I got burned out on that field….big time.


I have been working at home, as a virtual assistant, for several months now. I really love it. I have different tasks daily, and every day is something the same but different. I work from home and can work as early or late as I need to accommodate my children’s schedules. Having one in elementary, one in middle, and one in high school, the schedules are all over the place. So my little part time gig has been amazing. Now that I need something more reliable, more stable, I got scared, because I did not know what that looked like. I was also pretty convinced it did not look like my current job, where I sit in my yoga pants and work from home with no makeup on, taking a break to go run when I so choose.

Then, something happened. Someone told me I HAD to find a different job. I COULD NOT keep doing what I was doing….it is IMPOSSIBLE. Now, the fiery Italian in me said, WTF?? You are going to sit there and tell me anything I love is impossible?? Really?? Then I realized something. This person, *cough cough*my mother*cough cough* had implanted this self-doubt in me all my life. She has her own idea of what is possible and what is not. She has made her own choices, and boy have some of them been really poor, and stood for no one telling her something was impossible. So why the actual hell was I going to sit back and let her crap on my dream?? I am not, that is the answer.

So I have started into the motion the transition from working part time for someone else, to working full time for myself…no middle man. I am going to transform myself into the virtual assistant I know I can be. At the end of the day, impossible is just another way of saying, ‘I’m possible.’