What do you do

What do you do when you feel so overwhelmed and like nothing is going okay, and like you’re all alone. 

I know there’s a plan for how I feel right now, but I can’t find it.

My husband isn’t speaking to me, and I’ve just lost it. I am not even close to stable. 


Nobody Wins

Sometimes I hate Facebook memories. But today’s was helpful. Reminded me not to cut my hair short.

Two years ago today I chopped a ton of my hair off. I had just gotten out of the hospital after my brothers last freakout (and the one that led me to working with Em again and then eventually seeking out A). 

I’m still feeling depleted. I’m bouncing between having all sorts of emotions and feeling nothing.

I just submitted a sick day request from work. I don’t feel like I can do life today. 

A made a good point on the phone yesterday. It isn’t that my Mom loves my brother more, it’s that she loved us both poorly in different ways. It looks good to me – but it’s enabling, and he’s dependent on her, and it’s not helpful at all. So I’m the independent one with a craving to be seen and have someone recognize my needs and love me. And he’s the dependent one. 

Who would you rather be? 

None of us win. There is no winner. I’ve been trying to win an argument that doesn’t have a good answer.

To top it all off, my Mom loves me. She loves my brother. She is not an evil person. She is a human doing her best with the circumstances she was given. Isn’t that all we are all doing? It would be easier if she was mean, I think. Then I’d feel like I could be mad.

But here’s the thing, I’m allowed to be mad. I’m mad and sad and grieving and the fact that she didn’t mean to hurt me, and that she’s doing the best she can, doesn’t take away from the fact that it did hurt. 

Nobody wins.


I’m depleted.

I am running out of resources. In cranio on Friday I told Sal that I felt like the opposite of a flower in those nature movies – where you watch them slowly unfold. 

I feel like I am folding inward in an effort to protect myself, my protective parts at the forefront. 

I tried being vulnerable, and my Mom did the best she could and met me where she could. I still don’t know exactly how I feel after our phone conversation, and I spent approximately three hours crying out some of the grief today.

She didn’t really do or say anything ‘wrong’. There were countless positive moments and I think there is so much to learn from this. 

But it is very clear to me that I will always be second tier after my brother. And so much grief and sadness has come up.

I am in some serious resourcing mode. 

Taking a step back and only doing what matters.

I need some space from writing about this and feeling it, I have been feeling into it all day. 

The whole point of this being I’m not ready to dissect the interaction yet and I’m going to take some space because that’s what my body is telling me to do, and I’m listening. 

Flower Power

I am blessed with having a best friend in Lu. For my birthday a couple months ago, she bought us tickets to a flower lounge experience. Lu is my most spiritually in-tune friend, she loves astrology and tarot and essential oils. There are at least two bonuses to that for me. One, I’m always learning something new – or I’ll be having a big week and she will drop news about the moon or lunar cycles that just makes sense to me. The second bonus is she always smells good :).

So recently we did the flower lounge experience. And I went in with an open mind, to learning about how flowers and their essence can help us to heal. It wasn’t salesy at all, and I knew that going in, instead it was about meditation, and sharing, and being open, and having a group ritual, and connecting with yourself. 

We had flower chocolate, and sat with our emotions, and sent well wishes out to the city, and connected with ourselves.

I was feeling really depleted before the event. I was feeling drained, from dealing with such a huge emotional flashback in the form of massive attachment pain, to the aftermath of that, work has been busy, and the things with my mom and husband. 

And this helped me.

And in the middle of one of the meditations I heard a part of me being like “you know some of what you are doing isn’t good for us, why do you keep doing it? Why are you punishing yourself?

Its a good question. The overall message I’ve been sending myself lately has been ‘listen’. 

What was really awesome is what happened in small groups. We we’re paired with people we didn’t know, and me and these four other women did a flower ritual – pouring Perrier, adding essence, adding edible flowers, spritzing them, making a wish and cheering to each other and then having a sip. The essence in this one was about encouraging self compassion. 

And we shared about a kindness that struck us lately and I shared how Lu bringing me to this (Lu in general) and Dave embracing being my brother have been really kind things – with no expectations in return. And then I found out all five of the women were estranged from a brother. Or had been. One of them has reconnected. And I could really, clearly, see the path in front of me for the first time. And it was life. shifting.

For a long time I’ve been trying to send compassion and love to him, at night. It’s how I ‘pray’, my version of praying – I think of everyone in my life and send the intention of love or calm or whatever I think they need. And I’ve been stuck on my brother for so long. But yesterday, hearing these women and their stories of estrangement and holding space – last night I was able to let that go. 

The one quote from the whole evening that really stuck with me was this.

The bad news is, we are all falling, and there is nothing to hold on to. The good news is that there is no ground.”

Maybe She Won’t Leave

I’m full of mixed feelings today. And I’m very depleted, my soul cauldron is empty. 

But I think this has been a good thing to have happen despite the absolute intensity with which that attachment pain took me down. 

I wrote my feelings to my mother and she responded in the best way she knew how – which was not what I wanted and was misattuned – but it was her trying. And that trying is so helpful. That trying, although I may not get what I want, has taught me that I can say what I need to say and do what I need to do in a respectful way, and she will not leave. In fact, she’s trying to take it in. 

And as a result I don’t feel so obligated to her or my family anymore. For now. And I look deep within and there are still many wounds and much to discuss and I don’t have access to a lot of emotion about my childhood but the grief and the patterns feel more familiar to me. Moving forward WITH my Mom feels possible. I have said what I need to say and laid out my boundaries. And now I can reinforce those. 

I still have yet to talk to her on the phone, I’m waiting until the weekend, hopefully after a good sleep, definitely somewhere I feel safe and not rushed.

But I’m listening more to myself. I’m going to get back in to meditation and yoga. I’m going to center myself and eat better and run and work out when I can. I applied for a retreat today – and I’m going to cut out doing freelance services I don’t like. 

I feel more motivated than I have in a while. 

I feel okay. 


I don’t have a name for what I am experiencing right now. 

My mom emailed me back. It is good, it was good. She wrote back essentially only to my points of “this is where I am at”, though. 

I don’t feel validated or like my feelings were heard, but I do realize that she has met me in the best place she possibly can. 

And so I’m left to confront these feelings of ‘she will never see me.’ I tried to lay it out, and she did respond with love and compassion and I truly believe she loves me in the best way she knows how. 

But I wanted her to tell me that I am allowed to feel the way I feel and she’s proud of me. I wanted her to share her feelings – her disappointment or grief or sadness or whatever it is that was coming up for her. I wanted to talk – really talk. 

But I keep remembering what A said – that my Mom doesn’t have the skills I do. That she hasn’t worked like I have. And that she is doing her best.

And so I’m grateful she is meeting me where she can. That I have not been dismissed or yelled at. But I also wish for more – and tonight I’m going to let those little parts of me grieve for the mom they want but will never have.

It’s bittersweet. On some levels I was heard, and she responded in the best way she can. But on the flip side, the best she can do falls short of what I need and there is so much grief there.