“Can I go to the bathroom, please?” My fourth grade teacher nods and I make my way across the courtyard to the female restrooms. There are 5 stalls and 2 sinks and I am alone in the bathroom. It smells like sweat and Lysol and mold. I breath a sigh of relief that I am…
This
Body Image Trauma Response
I am learning. Sometimes relearning, but growing nevertheless. Sometimes it’s excruciatingly painful. Sometimes it’s lovely and inspiring and amazing. Today, it was both. Painful and lovely. Sad and inspiring. Anxiety-ridden and amazing. Thank you, God. Thank you for giving me a vessel to learn in and to build relationships in and to live life in.…
More Rollercoaster
Photo by Ferbugs on Pexels.com Today felt like a fight. An internal battle where the enemy wins. It felt like therapy today was a waste of time. The acid in my throat never settled and I felt weak leaving my therapist's office. Little-me wanted so badly to be there with her. There are so many…
My Heart and the Holy Spirit
Photo by Hernan Pauccara on Pexels.com A friend sent me this article last night. It was the catalyst for a major shift from the last two weeks. I spent practically all day yesterday believing my relationship with my therapist couldn't possibly go on any longer. I spent it tearful and angry and extremely depressed. I…
11 Days
I sorely miss freely letting little-me have a voice. I miss my faux fur weighted blanket that softens the blow of “flight” when anxiety rises. I miss being handed my bunny when little-me is stuck, or crying, or scared. I miss the I Love You All Ways children’s book that gets pulled out when you…
Feeling Separated
Today I needed a real, genuine, unforced, pull-me-in hug. The only non-strangers I saw today were my mom, who barely said 5 words to me at a distance, and my husband, who just wasn’t aware. The little girl in me is wondering if my mom even loves me—it doesn’t feel like it. And everything with…
Break (-ing)
Photo by Tobias Bju00f8rkli on Pexels.com This morning when my three-year-old creaked open the door at 5:30am, my body felt like cement bricks. I sent him out with a tablet and closed my eyes hoping when my alarm went off in an hour, everything would feel different. My five-year-old climbed in bed with me at…
Crushed
I think it’s ending. Not from a natural place of mutual agreement that goals have been met and both of us feel ready for termination. No, not that at all. Instead it’s because I am not capable of overcoming This. It keeps invading my process because I keep seeing him, as one would since he…
