An unpredictable, wild ride, baby.

Hello all my lovely humans. I am so glad to be back this week. Of course, I missed last weeks post due to the holiday. And by holiday I mean the day where we recognize, discuss, and find ways to take action for the injustices done to Native folks on their stolen land while we eat a strange amount of turkey (or in my case tofurkey) and potatoes. I assume you all did the same and if for some reason you were struggling to think of ways to take action I might recommend starting with shopping from Native shops this holiday season. [I’ll tag a few here: Ink Stitcher Studios, ArXotica, Sister Sky, Indigenous Cosmetics, and Beyond Bucksin. (**If you have any others please feel free to comment on this post with a link.)]

As for this week we are on to the next holiday and it just happens to be my favorite one of all: Sarah’s 30th Birthday. I know you all thought I was about to say Christmas. I laugh in the face of Christmas. *hahahaha* My Birthday TM is obviously much more important. In all seriousness though, on Friday December 4th, I will be another year AND another decade older. One of the reasons I love my bday so much is because it gives me a chance to reflect on the year behind and the year ahead. Shocking, I love to reflect. It’s not like my entire blog is based around this idea or anything.

So, let’s start with the year behind. On December 4th, 2019 I was on a date. It was actually a very sweet date that ended quite nicely. He ghosted me two weeks later. As the great Fall Out Boy once played on repeat in my little teen ear “thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great.” That seemed to be a theme for the beginning of my 29th year. Date, they ghost, date, I ghost, date, I break up, date, they break up. And so on and so forth. Also, a big theme of my 29th year was the GLOBAL PANDEMIC. I.e. crisis, depression, anxiety, unhealthy coping skills, all the good stuff. I did also move which was exciting. Still in Brooklyn, but a spot that is much more me and much more affordable. I get along well with my roommates and the loneliness that was brought on by the pandemic simply disappeared. My supervisor/friend/advocate passed away in July after my move. I think about you every day, Vilma. We all experienced a lot of loss this year; painful, heartbreaking loss. It’s made me hold my loved ones closer. Speaking of loved ones, in August my original theme of dating was flipped on its head when I met my current partner. The real shocker of my 29th year- he didn’t ghost me! There’s still a chance, it’s only been like 4 months and even though he is currently quarantining with me he could leave at any moment. Men ain’t sh*t, amiright? Just kidding, he’s great. I also started anti-depressants… that’s the true win of my 29th year. My mood has been the most stable it has ever been AND I think about dying wayyyy less. Woah, truly an incredible year I had. Oh, and I got a soda stream. That was cool.

All of this is to say that while 2020 objectively was a real sh*tshow, I had a lot of really wildly unexpected good things happen to me this past year. I don’t think I ever could’ve predicted that the year we go into lockdown is the year I would get it together. Kinda cool. Which then begs the question where do I go from here? In a recent conversation someone asked me where I see myself in 5 years… I hate this question with a burning, fiery passion. At 25 if you asked me where I saw myself in 5 years I can tell you I did not see myself wearing a mask to work everyday, or only riding my bike to get there, or having to primarily communicate with my friends and family via FaceTime. I don’t know where I will be in 5 years, that’s the beauty of living. It is an unpredictable, wild ride baby and I am here for it.

Honestly, I sort of blanked when the question was first tossed out. Then, with a deep breath I said “probably still doing this”. “What is this?” you may be asking. Well, it’s me loving harder than I have ever loved before- both myself and others; it is doing work that makes me feel good; it is knowing that I am worthy, with or without work; it is breathing and moving and thinking and writing and learning. In five years I will, with all the luck in the world, be alive.

I can’t just end the post there though. See, I also like to dream about things, things that may or may not happen for me; like being a billionaire and having kids and owning my own business and writing a book. While some of these things may seem outlandish, some of these things are totally obtainable. By some of these things, I particularly mean one of these things, which is why I am so excited for the next chapter in my life, pun intended. I am finally going to start writing a book. This is a dream that I sat on in my 20’s and with the new decade approaching, I am ready to dive in. I came to this conclusion, when over the weekend my best friend gifted me a present for my 30th birthday (image below). She had compiled all of my blog poems into a hard cover book. I can’t even explain the feeling I got when I saw it. It reminded me of this dream and woke me up to how much I really want to accomplish this goal. And not to sound like an overbearing mother towards myself, but “it ain’t gonna write itself, honey.”

Of course writing a book will definitely cut into my blog time, so my plan is to write a post *hopefully* once a month. I still want to explore the ups and downs of life with you all, so don’t you worry about that. As for the book… I don’t know where it will go, but I do know I am going to have fun doing it. Perhaps, in another 10 years, I’ll still be trying to write it or maybe I’ll be onto my second or third. What was that thing I said about wild and unpredictable? Oh right, that’s life baby.

So, with that all being said, I’m going to work hard and type to you in January, cuties. I hope your holidays and New Year are, if nothing else, another day you get to be alive.

A[wo]men

each decade

return to yourself

as the waves

return to the sea

-turning 30

I have not been okay, but, like, I’m okay.

c/w suicidal ideations, alcohol/drug use, grief/loss

Hello, my loves. It has been a minute, hasn’t it? My instinct is to apologize for the long, procrastinated post; however, I am working on apologizing less for me just being me. Therefore, I am not sorry, but I would like to provide you with an explanation of my recent absence. I realize that writing a personal blog about my journey with mental health is both apparent when there is a post and when there is not a post.

Over the last month or so I hit a low… again. This time was different because I didn’t really see it coming. I was riding a high for so long, that even though I knew I would hit a downward slope again, I was hoping that just maybe I was wrong. Just maybe with my therapy and medication and stable partner I could just be “normal”, whatever that is. In my head “normal” is being able to live everyday without this overwhelming pain of the past and fear of the future grabbing ahold of you at different times in your life. I suppose after 2020 though, nobody is truly normal. Everyone I have talked to has struggled with their mental health is some way, shape, or form. Is this the new normal then? AM I NORMAL? I could never.

Anyways… While I used to think that my lows bloomed out of random acts of the universe, I now understand the many triggers that send me into a downward spiral. These last few weeks it was a culmination of so many things. The change in weather, in sunlight, election anxiety, work stress, the ins and outs of a new relationship, the coping skills from my eating disorder that I still lean into, the upcoming anniversary of the loss of a dear friend (re: Alex Wolf), the lack of continued contact to so many loved ones, the never ending news of millions upon millions of deaths from a virus that has been mishandled, the nightmares of people that have hurt me that wake me up in the middle of the night, my upcoming 30th birthday… need I go on? It wasn’t out of nowhere these feelings formed. My depression and how it responds to all of these life stressors is valid. Life is hard, having a mental illness is hard, writing this blog post is hard.

In fact, my roommate just walked into the room and said “are you crying? Is writing that hard?” And I just came to the realization that part of the reason I haven’t written anything in over a month is because I knew it was going to bring up a lot of feelings in me. These feelings are honestly a bit overwhelming. They sometimes show up as tears, or debilitation, or over activeness, or cold sores, or all of the above; it’s all a fine line. I must say this most recent slump has been much more manageable than my past experiences. I’ve only though about dying once, and it was so fleeting I wondered if it even counted- that is a major improvement for me. Hip hip hurray!

As I prepare to enter my 30th year of life, I can’t help but look back at the last 30 years and reflect on all the different ways my life has twisted and turned. Did I think I would ever be able to say I barely think of dying? When I was little, did I ever imagine the life that I am living right now? Not even a little bit. If my life had turned out the way I dreamed of as a kid, I would be famous, married, and have many adopted children, and probably live somewhere else like London or Australia. If my life had turned out the way I dreamed of when I was a teenager, I wouldn’t exist. And if my life had turned out the way I dreamed of as a young college student, I would be lawyer with a drinking problem.

Through these reflective moments, I am also reminded of how my depression has transformed over the years. How my low days are primarily a lack of motivation and much less suicidal ideations. How I am able to recognize it and provide myself with comfort instead of searching for it from strangers on the internet. The way that I reach out to those who truly love me, instead of pulling away from everyone that I love. Even just the way that I know that I am loved instead of feeling like the world would prefer that I not be here. I spent the last month in a depressive state and it didn’t scare me. I listened to the things that I needed in moments that felt the hardest and stopped shaming myself into feeling that it was wrong. It is hard enough being depressed and then also have my brain reprimand me for the way I was dealing with that depression.

I frequently ask my patients what their coping skills are and 9 times out of 10 they slink down into their chair and they begin to mumble that they smoke weed, or drink alcohol, or watch hours upon hours of TV. I try to reposition their mind set, the shame that lives within their slouched backs and mumbled tones. We are, at the core, humans trying to survive. Is drinking wine because I am sad the healthiest coping skill? Nah. Does it make me feel good in the moment, you can bet your bottom dollar. And I tell my clients just that. We do these things because we want to feel better and we shouldn’t shame ourselves into feeling bad for that. We can recognize that these are not long term solutions and that without getting real care and proper help these coping skills could create more harm than good; we can also recognize that sometimes getting stoned feels good. There is no healing when shame is masking all that we do, no matter what we are trying to heal from.

As I mentioned earlier, the anniversary of the loss of Alex Wolf is coming up on November 20th. Grief is not linear and there is no right way to heal. Many of us this year are experiencing that feeling. I can promise you that on Friday, I will be crying and I will have wine and I will call my best friend, his sister, and we will probably cry together and that might happen every year on November 20th and there is healing in that. I’m over feeling shame. Shame for what I put in my body, shame for how I heal, shame for how I look, shame for any of it.

Alex Wolf is one of the best people I’ve had in my life and when he passed I made a promise to live life like Alex. Alex was like the antidote for feeling shame. He made the people around him feel proud to be who they were because he was proud of himself and proud of his friends. In fact, I am smiling while I write this thinking about the time I was capturing images of my friends and asking them to give me their essence. [Image posted below.] Alex ran to put on his homemade corduroy shorts and take a picture with his best friend and I’ve never seen anyone more proud, even while me, his sister, and best friend mocked the shorts.

(Pictured: Stephanie B. and Alex W.)

So, all of this is to say 1. I haven’t been okay, but, like, I’m okay, 2. I still have depression and that is very real and I am still working to heal and cope, 3. thank goodness my life has taken twists and turns 4. There is no right way to cope, 5. Let’s stop shame altogether, 6. I miss you, Alex, 7. I am still trying to live my life like Alex, 8. Best friend, call me on Friday.

A[wo]men

when i let shame take ahold of me

i let go of knowing

i am exactly

where i need to be

-reasons to get rid of shame

The Food and I

Howdy, pals! I am not quite sure why I went with howdy, but here we are. It’s been an interesting week to say the least. Most importantly, the weather has changed and you KNOW I cleaned out my closet and brought out all my snuggly sweaters. I am basic and proud. Even bought a pair of ugg boots from Goodwill. Really embracing who I am deep down.

Something else has been brewing deep, down inside of me. It’s gas. I’m gassy and sick and it’s more commonly known as gastritis. Basically, there is too much acid in my stomach and it’s caused some inflammation of the stomach lining. I’ll be honest… it’s not very fun. I’m sure you probably assumed that, but it’s not fun for more than just the stomach pains.

This is not the first time I’ve dealt with acid in my stomach. I was diagnosed with GERD last summer and they were also worried I had cysts. (Luckily, no cysts, just acid.) Whenever there is a stomach issue I get the same advice from medical professionals- lose weight. I know they are saying it because it honestly does help things like that. Usually I would say let’s explore other things that could help the issue, but after being diagnosed with GERD I lost some weight and I didn’t have any heartburn again, until I started gaining the weight back. Yet, when I hear someone say I should lose weight I roll my eyes so hard that they could probably knock over a building.

It’s because of the fat phobia that permeates our everyday lives. I can’t look on the internet without someone selling a get thin fast diet. It’s near impossible to shop in a store, I must shop online to avoid people seeing a fatty actually shopping in a store. You know, they don’t want to ruin their brand or anything. If they do happen to carry plus size clothes take note that it’s conveniently tucked into the back of the store to still hide fat people. I roll my eyes because it cuts through me like a knife cuts through butter- it’s a swift, clean cut that happens again and again.

I have carried the weight (pun intended) of binge eating disorder for most of my life. Food and I haven’t had the best relationship, but in the last few months I have felt myself getting more comfortable. The idea of eating before I feel like I am going to burst at the seems has been easier. I no longer feel the need to hide snacks throughout my living space, or sneak food behind my roommates backs. I’m open about my love of food. We are in a good place, food and I.

Yet, when I heard the doctor say “losing weight will help this go away”. All that work and progress disappeared for a moment and I wanted to stop eating forever. I wanted to breakup with food while simultaneously wanting to go binge eat McDonalds behind closed doors. All the pain and anguish from the last 20 years came flooding back in me and I wanted to cry. It felt as though time had stopped for a moment when he said it and a loop of all the self-hate I had ever experienced jumped to the front of my mind. In that brief moment I felt more than just the pain that was in my stomach.

Time stopped it’s because those feelings all happened in slow motion but when time resumed it went away fast. I sat for a minute in my office before returning to work and I thought about how far I have come and all the ways I can help my stomach without using a scale to figure it out. I googled good foods to eat for gastritis and did some deep breathing exercises. Of course, a visit from baby Sarah was also warranted.

Closing my eyes, she came to me crying, putting her hand on her stomach she called herself ugly. We held hands and we put our hands on our stomachs and together we talked about being gentle with ourselves, with our words, and with our bodies, and particularly with our stomachs. Wiping her tears, I told her the real meaning of beauty; that no matter our appearance on the outside, true beauty comes from within. Fat doesn’t make you less than, it doesn’t make you unworthy, and it definitely doesn’t make you ugly.

All of this happened last week Friday and since that day, I’ve had to visit with baby Sarah a few times. I’ve found myself more hesitant with food, brief moments of wanting to restrict and binge. I am being gentle with myself because I know that day I was triggered and it brought up a lot of feelings I haven’t seen in awhile. This doesn’t mean I haven’t healed or done the work, in fact without that work I wouldn’t have been able to work through all of those feelings so quickly. And quite frankly, that is what life is made up of- unpredictable moments that catch you off guard; sometimes those moments are happy ones and sometimes they are heartbreaking ones. Both make us stronger.

If you are having a hard time because you just so happened to have a heartbreaking moment catch you off guard, please try to be gentle with yourself. If you are grieving, if you are triggered, if you are just hurting the most important thing you can do is let yourself feel it and work with it, not around it. You are stronger today than you were yesterday. And as always, if you are not in a place to work with it, that’s okay. What you need is what you need and there is no shame in any of that.

A[wo]men

–

in the dips

of your rolling fields

find home

–

Earlier this week on the island I call my second home, Prince of Wales, Alaska, a tragedy occurred. Copied text from the GoFundMe page: “Herbie Nix Jr. was born to Marvell and Herb Sr. (Big Herb) on September 23, 2002. Lil Herb passed on October 5, 2020.  We are asking for support for the Nix/Edenshaw family during this very difficult time. Thank you in advance for your emotional and financial support. We will update you on the service times. Any cash donations may be given directly to the Nix family. Monetary donations can be made through GoFundMe, Facebook Pay, Cashapp and PayPal.” Please donate by clicking this link if you have the means and send love and healing to the island ❤

Finding the Purpose of Anger

It’s a new day friends and if you’re like me you have an emotional hangover from what some call a presidential debate. I personally like to call it the ‘old white man say/yell things show’™ and you are welcome to use that if you’d like. I had so many emotions just from that hour and a half that I could probably write several blog posts on this viewing alone, but I’ll try to make it brief.

The biggest emotion I felt last night was anger. Anger, for those who have not been following this blog for a long time, is one of the most difficult emotions for me to process, accept, and display. I avoid it all costs and it typically results in me crying (which I did last night) and wanting to run away, trying to do whatever I can to make it stop. So, as someone who is constantly trying to improve and be better, I made it a point to stay; stay in my anger and feel the ways in which this anger is helping me. I was angry for a lot of reasons, and I am not going to sit here and try to explain why it hurts to hear people debate human lives or attack someone who overcame a drug addiction. What I will discuss is how such anger is helping me grow.

Last nights anger was felt in the pit of my stomach. My therapist has taught me to visualize where I feel my emotions so that I can really sit with it and work through it. It been a real game changer with the emotions I find more difficult. In my stomach there was a burning sensation and when I closed my eyes I could see yellows, reds, and oranges- there was a fire burning. My first instinct was to put the fire out, which I attempted to do with ice cream (Ben and Jerry’s half baked, obviously). That sort of worked as a short term solution, but as soon as I stopped the fire grew again. I thought to myself ‘how do I make I stop’ and then I realized I was asking the wrong question. I didn’t need it to stop I needed to listen to it and that is what I did.

I sat in my room after getting ready for bed and reflected for a minute on the heat. I unpacked some of the emotional abuse that occurred on the stage as it brought up memories of my own experiences. I validated the feelings of anger as right and fair, instead of a burden that needed to go away. I put my hand on my stomach and thought about the anger others must be feeling in this moment and what pain people who were literal topics of debate might be feeling. I thought about the kids that were and/or are bullied and how it would feel to watch that debate with the harsh words used. I thought of all of these people as my clients that have and will sit with. Then, with each thought and validation the anger dwindled, not to be mistaken with the anger going away.

Feelings don’t disappear until the job they were created to do is done. There is a good reason for that- we need them to create change. For example, if I got sad and never dealt with the sadness and pretended not be sad, that doesn’t mean that sadness is gone, it just means it’s hanging out somewhere else. Typically, this is a place where we tried to lock it up in, but instead it comes out in anxiety, alcohol use, cutting, unexplained anger, etc.. However, if we keep it where it’s supposed to be and we work with it and do what needs to be done, we get a healthy goodbye. Like when I was really depressed and went to therapy and started medication and sat with my sadness for a long time, not letting it go until I was ready. I want a healthy goodbye like that with this anger, so I am keeping the embers burning to help me remember why it is I do what I do.

What I do as a social worker, involves advocating for people and I care about people a lot. I’m a cancer moon, ya know? Advocacy work is political in nature and this fire is a direct result of who and what I care about. These embers will burn until I see people are given justice, fairness, kindness, and the right to live regardless of health, the color of their skin, their differing abilities, their gender, their sexual orientation, and the list could go on. I’m not sure the embers will ever truly go away, but I am going to keep them with me as a reminder that there is work to do, nitty gritty hard work.

I am currently in a space to do the hard work. I have gone to therapy and processed a lot of my own trauma’s and experiences. I feel safe to do this work right now and that could change. If you are not in that place, please know it is okay to lock those feelings up if that is what feels best for you right now. I am not here to tell you how to process your own reactions/feelings. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel safe. Perhaps it’s holding space for it and perhaps it’s watching 6 hours of Real Housewives of New York. I’ve been both people (sometimes in the same day) and that’s okay.

If you’re reading this and angered (or any other emotions) by any of the words I have said here, perhaps reflect on where in your body you’re feeling it and why these emotions are coming up for you. And please, please, please use the contact link to chat with me further about this or any other post.

I love you all, including my anger.

A[wo]men

flames dance

across the lining of my stomach

and i pray for rain

that only comes when

the embers are ready for it

-finding the purpose of anger

Attachment Style Renovations

c/w self-harm, anxiety, violence

Hello, my loves! What a week it has been. Apparently, COVID-19 is over because everyone decided it is and the rules no longer matter and fires are dominating our land and TikTok is where I get the most news. Oh, and people are getting sterilized WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT because that’s a thing we do here in the great ol’ U.S. of A. It is a lot. I hope as you are reading this you are doing something to take care of yourselves in these unprecidented *rolls eyes* times.

I legitimately had a moment yesterday where I was convinced the world was ending. I started to get sweaty palms as I looked up into the not quite clear skies in the east coast that have been penetrated by the smoke from the west coast. Isn’t this how all those movies start? The ones where the world is ending? 2020 is like 4 of those end of the world movies all smashed together in one. I hope it gets nominated for some sort of an award because this year has really outdone itself.

My anxiety has been all over the place in the last week. As my depression has essentially been non-existent my mind is like, “well we need some sort of mental health predicament, don’t we?” Kind of rude, but whatever. Hence that whole ‘the world is ending’ thing. My anxiety, unlike my depression, is a ball of energy that needs to escape in some way, and it needs to escape as soon as it decides. Some may say it is too fast, too furious. Not to be confused with the 2003 film, starring Paul Walker, R.I.P. Most often it escapes through picking aka excoriation. If you had seen me this week, perhaps you noticed the welts or scars on my shoulders, chest, and face. This is my anxiety escaping. I don’t tap, I don’t click pens, I don’t bounce my knee. Instead, I turn my energy against myself, which, really, is a form of self harm.

It is sometimes unconscious and subtle and I have to ask people to hit me to get me to stop, while other times it is fully intentional and painful. There are a lot of reasons to be anxious right now re: the world ending. However, the thing that has me most anxious currently is a new relationship. It sounds so ridiculous typing it out. I know, rationally, that there are much bigger things to focus on, but distractions are a great way to get through some of the difficulties in life and I am welcoming this distraction with open arms. Plus, this blog is about my life and this is a big thing in my life.

New relationships often make me anxious, but this time it is in a different way. See, there has been a lot of bad people in the past; harmful, painful, brutal, made-me-suicidal relationships. This person feels different. He makes me feel safe and not in a way that is overbearing, but in the way that I can say I’m upset about x, y, z and he will say “okay, let’s work through it.” Hold up, you’re telling me I can just talk about my feelings and I won’t be made to feel like an insane person? What is this magic?

All of this sounds wonderful and grand. Except for the fact that because I am not used to it my anxious brain is like there is a catch and you need to protect yourself and he is going to destroy your life and we should probably eat everything in the fridge and make your skin bleed… for protection, of course. That part of my brain really is something. She can create the wildest scenarios anytime, anywhere. It is really impressive. The other day she was like “what if he actually is a murderer and is just waiting for the right moment to get you alone.” Like damn, dude… calm down. Next level kind of shit. I know this is all to protect me, so I let the thoughts in and digest them. I just need to work on not letting them take over.

Because the other message that it is sending is an old favorite- I don’t deserve good love. My attachment style- fearful avoidant- isn’t a very healthy one and tends to perpetuate that message. I operate a lot out of attachment theory when it comes to my work with clients, and like to practice what I preach. Attachment theory explores how we relate to others through the way we learned to relate to people as children. It poses that we carry those styles into adulthood and often replicate/perpetuate them. When we know our attachment style, we can better understand how we act in relationships (both platonic and not) and, hopefully, avoid recreating unhealthy attachments. #breakthecycle As someone who is fearful avoidant I typically want to be close to people, but am also terrified of being hurt and therefor try to avoid it. This can result in some really wonderful self-sabotage.

Earlier this month I talked about listening to my gut when it came to ending a relationship and I want to do the same in wanting to grow a relationship. Despite my anxious brain, my gut is telling me that this person is a good person. So, whether he is in my life for a month or for a long time, I want to accept that I deserve to have good people in my life. So, how am I working through all these feelings and desires of running away? Mostly by talking about it.

Every time I feel myself pushing him away, I vocalize it. If it is out there, there is no hiding from it. I can’t just melt into the feeling and let it take over. There is no rationalizing with it and justifying it. There is only reality testing it. This is the way we work through the hard things. We release them into the world and let them be heard. My anxiety has taught me this lesson. The feelings that live in our bodies will come out, and if we don’t let them out they will break out in ways we didn’t agree to.

The best part about working on this, is that he is so open to it! *Spoiler alert* he is also a therapist. My gut is telling me that it’s a great (healthy) sign that he is good at communication. My anxious brain probably won’t trust him for a little bit, but we’ll keep talking it out like mature adults do until she feels safe.

So, for this week, maybe we could try voicing how we feel. When you’re sitting with your significant other try letting them know if you are upset or even if you are happy. If you’re roommate just did something that didn’t feel good, let ’em know. If your dog is the goodest baby in the whole world, please, for the love of Beyoncé, tell them that. I think you might find that it will feel good to say how you are feeling and you’re body won’t be holding all of these things that it needs to release.

And as always, if you’re like ‘nah, I like my emotions right where I keep them buried’ you do you, booboo.

A[wo]men

falling in love

is easy,

like lazy afternoons.

being in love

takes work,

like building

your dream home,

from the ground up.

-attachment style renovations

Stability on the Water;

Hi, Friends! I apologize if you missed me last week, because I sure missed y’all. It is funny how off my week can feel when I skip a post (or 2, or 3). Don’t get me wrong I don’t regret taking the time off. I mean if you had the opportunity to go to the beach, wouldn’t you? Especially as summer fades away into fall I figured I should take advantage of any opportunities I can get in the sun and water.

I know I’ve talked a lot about baby Sarah, mostly in the context of hardships, but baby Sarah comes soaring out in all her greatness when I am in the water. As soon as I dip my big toe in I am transported back to that little girl that felt free in the water. There is no pain there, no fear. I am weightless! And for someone that always felt like she was too big, the peace that came with such an escape was indescribable. In fact, I think I could say the water saved my life.

I spent a lot of my childhood hoping to die. Yet, I never felt that way if I was in the water. I found solace lying on my back looking up at the sky or ceiling, the water filling my ears so all that was detectable was faint sounds that didn’t translate. We had a pool in our back yard. I would float or be a mermaid or a shark or a minnow or Marco or Polo and real world problems simply didn’t exist.

This month is Suicide Prevention Month. I’ve spent a lot of my writing talking about moments in time when I felt suicidal. It is not something I am shameful about and, in all honesty, I believe those thoughts are as natural world itself. Some of us feel them stronger than others and some of us believe there is no escape. For a long while, I only believed in escape in the water. However, when my feet would touch solid ground again, I slipped right back into my reality- the reality that I didn’t want to be here.

I am not here to talk about that reality today though. Today, I want to talk about my reality of this moment. In this moment, I doing really well. Well like I could skip down the sidewalk and sing in the store. Well like my heart might burst through my chest. What has caused me to feel so well? Mostly, there is stability in my life, like real stability. I’m not sure if you recall, but that was my news years resolution this year. I have money in my savings account, my credit card balances are finally going down, I have medication that has quite literally stabilized my mood, there is a cute boy I like. And if I am being totally real with y’all.. it’s freaking me out.

Why is it freaking me out? It is a new feeling. New anythings scare the sh*t out of me. New hairstyles, new apartments, new friends, new bedding. It’s unknown and what is scarier than the unknown? My anxious brain loves to think about the unknowns. The current obsession on repeat is “do I deserve to feel this good?” feat. trauma. It’s a classic hit that I’ve heard before. Real catchy, almost like an annoying jingle. Part of it spins out of that depressed girl, that didn’t think she should be alive. The girl that believed nothing could ever feel this good.

When this greatest hit get’s played, I want to rush to turn it off. As I have learned though, that’s not the way intrusive thoughts get shut down. They get shut down by letting them in, understanding them, respecting them. I’ve mulled over the question the last few nights, trying to understand my brain a little more. I have never questioned when hurtful things happen. Without skipping a beat “I deserve this” also feat. trauma, oddly enough, shoots to the top of the list. So, why, when something good happens, does it become the opposite? Could it be that old central message I worked so hard to get rid of rearing it’s head?

DING. DING. DING. Up until this past year I always thought that I wasn’t good enough. Messages that could validate such a statement were snuggled up under the covers with me and messages that didn’t rolled off my back like water. Now, my new message is that I am good enough, but it’s a new message… and you know how I feel about new things. I know though that it is all about practice. New things don’t always stay new. I thought again about my current #1 hit and how I could get it to fit my new message.

Why do I deserve to feel this good? Because feeling good is what everyone deserves. I am not special in that. If I want my friends and family and patients and strangers to feel that way, and I hope and pray for them to feel that way, I should hope and pray the same for myself. I am a human being with a million different parts and I want to experience all of those parts. We are all worthy of such a life.

Your central message right now might be telling you that you are not worthy. I sat with that message for along time, so I know how that feels. If you are hearing that as you read this, that is totally okay. You don’t have to rush into new feelings. Perhaps though you could think of what you would want your central message to say, or what you would want your best friends central message to say. Close your eyes and think of all the words that could make that statement come true, like a vision board. Now, try to trust that new things, although scary, can be the best things that happen to us. Try taking one little step to flip this unworthy message on its head. Maybe that means brushing your teeth, or getting a therapist, or literally just breathing.

And if all of that sounds like a bunch of bullsh*t, maybe go float in some water and drown it all out. That may be all you need for now.

A[wo]men

**Also, I would be remissed not to note that suicide prevention is not just reaching out. Suicide prevention is loving/supporting the LGBTQ+ community, it’s supportive housing, it’s having enough food, it’s being able to afford medication, it’s undoing racism. It’s a million things that are systemic and need to be fixed. Need resources? Contact me.

from the tears of those before you

fill your ears with their

salt and water

float

-you’re not alone;

And as always, if you are feeling in need of support, whether that be because you are suicidal, sad, happy, want to tell me a funny joke, etc. please reach out to me on my contact page. Love you all ❤

What Does Safety Got to do With Gut?

Alright, I don’t know about y’all, but I am tired as sh*t. Anybody else feel like they could just take a nap for about 2 years? No? Just me? Okay then. Honestly though, I know we are all tired. We are all fighting every day like hell to feel okay. With the state of the world, the state of our mental health, the state of bachelor nation… It’s a lot for one person to handle. 

You ready for the good news? The good news is that we CAN handle it. Our brains enjoy telling us that the weight of the world will one day crush us. We say we are weak and incapable and, wait for it, not enough. To quote the great Tom Selleck and his even greater mustache in the 90’s hit Three Men and a Little Lady – “What a crock!” We, as we are today, are more than enough. We are doing exactly what our brains are telling us we can’t. We are living, breathing, fighting every single day despite what we might be hearing. 

Now that I let you in on my little words of wisdom to kick us off, let’s get into the good stuff. I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately, trying to leave the brain out of it. I mentioned in my previous post that I am working on being more in touch with my gut instincts. Y’all, it’s hard. I don’t like to complain, HAHA just kidding. Yes I do. It is sooo hard. I find myself wanting to quit sometimes. Like, maybe I can just go back to not caring about myself. As they say though, ignorance is bliss, and I can’t unsee what I now know. In order to avoid my number one fear in life [settling] I must keep doing the work. Keep moving forward. 

How am I moving forward? I am so glad you asked. From the outside it may not have looked like I was doing much at all, but that is the cool thing about learning to trust your gut. Nobody can see you doing it. In this instance I am the Wizard of Oz, the woman behind the curtain. And trust me when I say you do not want to remove the curtain because it is mostly just blood and guts. Ew. 

I really did practice a lot though. I practiced not only listening to it, but not judging it. I feel the judgement all the time. “Why didn’t you say this? How did they take that? Am I even good at what I do? Am I good? Am I enough? Should I speak?” This week though, I shut it down. I took every opportunity I got to practice listening to myself. No hesitation, no judgment. With this practice I found myself feeling stronger in my choices, more confident in my decisions. Each time one of those old comments entered my brain I didn’t shut it down, I just reality tested it. I would hear ‘why didn’t you say this?’ and I would break it down. Why didn’t I say it? Perhaps it wasn’t the right time to say it? Maybe they weren’t ready to hear it? Maybe I can bring that up next time? It was validating in a way that I had not felt validation before. I felt safe. 

Safety is hard to conceptualize. In a world where people are being harmed and/or murdered for the color of their skin, and/or their gender identity, and/or their sexual orientation how do we define safety? What does it mean to feel safe? I’ve talked to a lot of people lately, both in my work and my personal life, who just don’t feel safe. Heck, most days I don’t feel “safe”. The world, as was previously stated, is scary right now. 

For me, right now, safety is not about feeling like nothing bad will happen, it’s about feeling like I am making the right choices. That I can trust that when my gut is telling me to run, I run like hell; when my gut is telling me to fight, I fight like hell; when my gut is telling me to freeze, I don’t move a damn thing. On the flip side when my gut is telling me to love, I love deeply; when my gut is telling me to heal, I stitch each part that needs it; when my gut is telling me to stand in solidarity, I take each of the hands beside mine and I hold it and squeeze it and let them know I’m here. 

If you’re finding yourself in a place of fear, you are not alone. If you’re gut is telling you things are scary, it’s probably because they are, but if you listen closely to your gut, I bet it is also telling you to reach out to someone, to get help, to know that fear is not something that must hold us back, but rather it can ignite a passion in us that we didn’t know we had.

Our world scares me in the way that hate and fear sometimes guides people, rather than love and understanding. It scares me in the way that power and control is our goal rather than harmony. Hearing the news of Jacob Blake scared me, just as hearing the names of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Tamir Rice, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd,  and a million other names scared. It scares me in the way that life is so fragile, so easily stolen. Those fears though only makes me want to fight harder. It makes me want to know that in my life time I did not let the fear take over, that instead I harnessed that energy; that I stood up against injustices because I knew in my gut it is the right thing to do. 

As for now, my gut is trustworthy and that is the “safety” I always needed. 

A[wo]man

a compass blooms

from the gut.

direction bred 

of misdirections.

-soul searching

If you have the means please consider donating to BEAM (Black Emotional and Mental Health Collective). A collective “of advocates, yoga teachers, artists, therapists, lawyers, religious leaders, teachers, psychologists and activists committed to the emotional/mental health and healing of Black communities.”

A Clock is a Clock

Hey all, can you believe it’s been two weeks since I’ve told y’all about my emotions? I know you are all desperately waiting to hear how I’ve been holding up since my last blog. You know, the one where I was an anxious hot mess. Yeah, that one. Well good news, I am doing FABULOUS now. I know that sounded a little sarcastic, but I am being completely truthful with y’all- as always. 

The real question though, is how did I go from an anxious hot mess back to a confident boss babe in a matter of two weeks. Well, I am sure I can attribute it to a lot of things, but I would say the number one contributing factor was *drum roll* LISTENING AND TRUSTING MYSELF.

After my last big relationship, I had a really hard time believing myself. I was convinced that I didn’t know anything and that I could not, under any circumstance, listen to my instincts. That, my friends, is the result of being lied to by people you love and trust. Your internal meter for what is right and real gets twisted and begins to resemble The Persistence of Memory by Salvado Dalí. Reality just melts and it feels near impossible to get it back to its original shape.   

This is the result of trauma. 

Trauma bends our reality and alters our brain and, to be honest, f*cks sh*t up. So, how do we get them back to that original shape? How do we unf*ck sh*t up? Where is that place where a clock is a clock and there is no question about it? If you read my blog, you know what I am about to say… therapyyyy. You’re welcome. That is how we get reality back to its shape. We have a professional person guide us back to the spot where we trust our gut, where a clock looks like a clock and therefore is a clock. 

My therapist guides me through my body, eyes closed, with full trust in her and in myself. After my last post the first message that I listened to from myself was that I needed to speak with my therapist. I am not kidding. I posted my blog at 5 and then went to therapy at 6. Before I had a therapist I would convince myself I was fine. I wouldn’t listen when my body was literally pouring out tears uncontrollably or my brain was saying things like “nobody loves you”. I didn’t listen when I would eat until it hurt to avoid feeling anything else. Once I started listening to myself, all the pain I felt was still there, but it was healable. That pain was no longer an abstract, never-ending “this is just how I feel and I can’t change it” part of myself. You can only heal when you know what you are trying to heal. 

So, let’s circle back to that session of healing and how I got back to feeling stable. I fired up my laptop, hit the FaceTime button, and waited for my therapist to answer. I could feel the anxiety coursing through my body as I sat on my floor with my laptop perched on my bed. By the end of the session the anxiety was minimized, near gone. She helped me release the ties I was holding so tightly to. It was a beautiful exercise in release and I encourage you to try it if my description resonates with you.  I closed my eyes and she said “I want you to picture that relationship, the one that hurt you. Where can you feel it?” Without hesitation I saw a tight rope, thick and strong, tied so tightly to my heart it was strangling it. Each time it pumped, I could see the rope tighten. She wanted me to look at the memories that painted the rope. The good, the bad, the ugly; see the rope connected to that person. Then, she wanted me to cut it. 

I hesitated. I couldn’t cut it. I wasn’t ready. I was sobbing, not quite sure that I knew how to be without this part of myself. I was scared that letting go of that pain meant moving on and moving on meant finding someone new; scared because I didn’t know what any of that truly looked like. In the calmest of voices she said “only when you are ready Sarah.” And then the most beautiful healing imagery appeared: 

Baby Sarah. 

She grabbed my hand and whispered ‘we could cut it together.’ That little face of mine, with big dreams, staring up at me just wanting us to be happy. My sobbing slowed as we picked up the pair of golden scissors together. I squeezed her hand as I began to cut into the thick rope. It didn’t budge at first and I looked down at her again and she looked up at me as if to say “keep going” and I did. I cut again and again and again. Each cut made the rope fray ever so slightly. Then it happened, as if I was watching my own cartoon version of what I was doing, the rope slid to the floor, his end back to him and my end back to me and my heart started to glow like the sun. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until the rope broke free and I took a huge gasp of air. It almost felt like I had been holding my breath for the last two years. I opened my eyes and saw my therapist looking back at me. She said “I am so proud of you.” Those words again, setting me free. I said I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do it and she interrupted me and said “Sarah, if you weren’t ready to, we wouldn’t have done it.” That was the power of listening to myself- knowing when I’m ready to let go, ready to heal. Just as important as knowing when I am not ready. 

So, I spent the last two weeks remaining in tune with myself. I took a break, I ran away with me for the summer. I did not go upstate though, I went to Wisconsin. (Solid Hamilton reference in case you missed it.) I rented a car, drove 14 hours there and 14 hours back, got a COVID test before and after, and was able to be in tune with myself. My wants and needs were met every inch of the way.  I stopped everything that was giving me anxiety and I just lived. I took a break from this blog (not that this blog gives me anxiety, but I do feel the pressure of deadlines and wanting more people to read, etc.). I had dance parties in my kitchen with my roommate; I watched TV; I read a book; I took my antidepressant every day; I listened to me and trusted what I was hearing. 

So, here I am refreshed. My head is clear and my heart is … free. Of course, it’s all a practice and I’ll forget to listen and/or trust myself again, but that’s what learning is all about. We fail and we try again and again and again until we no longer have to think about. Until listening and trusting myself is as second nature as obnoxiously quoting Hamilton is. And please remember, it is more than okay to fail and forget and to make mistakes. If we didn’t we would be robots and we wouldn’t have feelings and this blog would be meaningless.

Plus, without the mistakes I’ve made along the way, I’m not sure this blog would even exist. Scratch that, I know this blog wouldn’t exist.

A[wo]men

arms spread,

eyes closed.

drop back

into a vast sea of yourself.

deep, powerful, real.

-trust falls

The Three Brains

“I simply just don’t even want to do it today. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to feel. Bro, I straight up am not having a good time.”

That’s my anxious brain talking. Everyone say hello! My anxious brain is actually one of my more favorite parts of my brain. It might be confusing as to why for some, but my depression is very much linked to the past and the strongest sad emotions that really take over. I see these moments of my life on repeat and it’s typically moments of trauma. My trauma loop is exhausting. It’s like sitting through The English Patient, which I haven’t actually had to endure, but if Elaine from Seinfeld hates it I stan. However, my anxiety, oh baby, does she have some unique imaginative powers and girl has got some teeth.

I’ve heard people say that depression is about past thoughts and anxiety is often about the future. I don’t know if you can tell by my writing, but my creativity when it comes to thinking about the future is next level. I’ve dreamt up whole futures in my head, some good, some bad, some just right. None of them real, not even close. Trust me, I never would have dreamt I’d be living in Brooklyn, working at Planned Parenthood, writing a weekly blog, and posting pictures of myself in bikini’s unedited on the internet. I definitely didn’t guess that whole living in Alaska thing. Heck, I never saw myself actually falling in [romantic] love.

Ah, where the anxious brain and the depressive brain meet- Romantic Love. L is for the way you look so dumb. O is for the only ones I wish I didn’t meet. V is very, very stupid. E is even worse/great than anyone could imagine. I hope you tried to sing that and realized it doesn’t work, as I just did. Anyways, yes love has got me feeling some kind of way. As I mentioned in my last post I was seeing someone new. Well, guess who isn’t seeing someone new anymore? Yes, this girl. Guess who is seeing someone new though? That’s right an ex-boyfriend. I guess I should say THE ex-boyfriend. The first love. The blah, blah, yuck, ew love.

I don’t write a lot about my relationships, mostly because this is about me and not about them. No matter what happened with anyone that I dated, they are a part of me, so I try to be careful in the way I write about them because a part of me will always care about them. My anxious brain isn’t careful though; another reason I love her. I can’t even write some of the things she has said about them. She likes to curse, a lot. I am the queen of careful; I work so very hard to not hurt people feelings and play things safe. So, when I feel my anxious brain going off, I like spending time on the wild side, letting her free flow. If my anxious brain had a celebrity personality it would Mona-Lisa Saperstein from Parks and Rec. The w0o0orst. [But also the best?]

Here’s where I get frustrated though- I know we aren’t right for each other. I know it is completely done. I know I have dated like a lot, a lot of people since we’ve been done. I know all the things. Yet, one little post and I am sent into all the feelings from before which, coincidentally enough, was about all the future things. Hence the depression and anxiety teaming up. My friends, my real true loves, are great and they tell me to be kind to myself and they assure me that all the things I am feeling are normal. But dang, if  they could hear this girl talk. The anxious brain comes in and is like, “remember that whole mom thing you dreamed of? GUESS AGAIN!! muahahah” I told you she is straight up mean. She just comes up in here saying how I am going to be alone forever and I can’t find the right person because that is my destiny. Sometimes, the future looks bleak with this anxious brain. I will say, my anxious brain does kick my adrenaline into overdrive and my apartment is nearly spotless and all my errands were completed before noon today, so I do really appreciate that about her.

But then, in an overarching hero-like-fashion enters my rational brain. *BA BAD DA BUM* “I’m here to save you from these past and future thoughts to bring you directly to our present moment.” My rational brain is so dreamy. I love her the most. She comes in and is like “honey, let’s take a deep breath and really think about this… who broke up with these boys?” “uh… I did.” “and why did you break up with them?” “Uh… because I know what I am looking for in a partner and I haven’t found that yet and it’s important for me listen to my instincts and trust myself.” “Exactly, baby girl. You know exactly why you aren’t with these boys, so you just keep breathing and trust that you know what is right for you.” Ah, rational brain, my true love.

My rational brain was MIA for a v. long time. I think the depressive and anxious brain were holding her hostage somewhere. It wasn’t until she saw a slight break in the lock that she crawled out victoriously. The aforementioned break in the lock came from growing up, from loving friends/family, from therapy, and from Lizzo. When the rational brain wasn’t there, that’s when things like suicidal ideation would creep in. The more I let the rational brain take control of things the further and further I get away from having any of those thoughts. I can actually proudly say that I haven’t had a thought like that since June, which is the longest I’ve gone without such a thought and if that is not something to celebrate, I don’t know what is.

To summarize, this past week I was filled with anxiety about what my future love life holds, but it did not drown me. We went a little wild with our thoughts and then we brought it right back to the here and now. That is what I call growth, my friends.

Are you feeling anxious this week? Especially because 2020 is a ball of anxious energy and nobody knows what’s around the corner? Cool, cool, cool. Just feel it, remind yourself it isn’t real, and then come back to the here and now and take stock of all the things you can do for yourself in the present moment. As always though, if you’re not ready to be in the here and now, it’s all gravy baby.

A[wo]men

you are breathing,

reading,

existing.

you are love.

-in the here and now

Wishing You Well This Fat Girl Summer

Another day, another blog. I believe that is how the saying goes. It is a beautiful day in New York, which I actually find slightly annoying because I was looking forward to a rainy day writing sesh, but alas here I am. I don’t mind the blue skies either, but there is something about writing with the pitter patter of rain drops. Perhaps this is why I haven’t written a book yet. Sorry publisher, I can’t get those pages to you… it hasn’t rained in weeks. Either way, I hope you are all enjoying the weather of your choice today and if you’re not, that’s okay too.

This past week has been… interesting. I had a bout of depression that was a bit debilitating. The real kicker was the moment I realized I was depressed. I was standing in front of my kitchen sink staring at the ONE spoon I had to wash and I was sitting there just like “c’mon Sarah. It’s one spoon just wash it.” Then, I had one of those office moments where I looked into the non-existent camera and was just like “damn, it’s back.” And then the studio audience laughed and laughed and laughed. I then went through my head to find all the reasons I could be experiencing it this time and there were quite a few things on the list : I’m still mourning; I missed my anti-depressants two days in a row; I had my period; I started seeing someone new; it’s still quarantine; Trump is still president; Breonna Taylors murderers (Brett Hankison, Jon Mattingly, and Myles Cosgrove) have not been charged; I could probably keep going, but you get my point.

So, I did what any normal depressed person would do and I binged watched Little Fires Everywhere and ate to my hearts content. As Drew Carry once said “welcome to the show where everything is made up and the points don’t matter” and sure he was talking about the game show, but I think it translates to life as well. I concocted my own little depression antidote out of thin air and it seemed to work wonders and I am awarding myself 2000 points. Oh, and getting back to my daily vitamins and anti-depressants was probably helpful as well. The nice thing about going through so many depression spells in my life is that it gets a lot easier to remember that it isn’t going to last. Imagine 16 year old me, listening to Senses Fail, feeling depressed and genuinely believing it will never go away and that music is the only thing that understands me. #emokid No wonder my life felt like a nightmare. Poor teenage brain, not fully developed, sure that things would never get better. SO glad to be through that phase. (If you are a teenager that is reading this your brain has a hard time seeing the future, but it’s there and it does get better. I am living proof.)

The thing that I hate most about my depression is those teen Sarah thoughts that creep up, specifically about my body. It is summer in the city, so more skin is showing, which means more comments about my body from total strangers, which means more comments from inner teen voice Sarah which means more work to change the narrative. The summer for fat girls can be one of both mental and physical pain. It’s hotter, so there is more chaffing. My inner thighs current have cuts that will burn later as the water washes over them in the shower. I don’t just glisten or drip a little sweat, it’s like my glands open up and become a waterfall for the whole world to see. Except, I am not a spectacle they come to see and take pictures of and use cheesy captions like “difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations”. Instead I get looks from thin bodies eyes that say they are afraid I am dying, but happy they aren’t me. I also get looks from fat bodies that say I see you and you’re doing great sweetie. I like those looks. The clothes on my body become paper-towels absorbing the water.  I become hyper aware of what I wear and how I put my hair to help minimize the amount of my sweat people can see. Black shirts, hats, headbands. NOBODY CAN KNOW I AM A FAT GIRL.

Honestly, laughing out loud writing all of that. “Why?” you might ask. Well, because it is just so silly, don’t you think. Everybody knows I am a fat girl. I mean I wrote it in my bio on Instagram. I know I am a fat girl. I love my fat girl body, but then you put me in the heat and I feel like I have to shrink back down. Just another product of depression and low self-esteem mixing together like one beautiful masterpiece of pain. Today, when I noticed this was happening I closed my eyes and thanked my body for sweating. I know the sweat is trying to cool me down; how sweet my body is to care enough. The reason I did this was actually because of something I saw on the gram this past week. I can’t, for the life of me, remember where I saw it, but it said to practice wishing people well when you notice you start to get angry at them. For example, someone cuts in front of you in line and as soon as you start to get upset you say “I hope they are okay and have a good day.” It has been a real game changer for me this past week and also has helped with those little voices. Using this technique inward as well as outward is important because I get angry with myself all the time. If a stranger can get my blessing, I better be able to give it to me too. I even got to use it with a stranger just before writing this post when a man was  hollering at me “HEY LADY” loudly and repeatedly and when I didn’t say anything called me a fat a*s. I took a deep breath and said “I hope he receives goodness in his life” and added “and yes, I do have a fat a*s. Thank you for noticing.”

It’s a freeing feeling to know I am not held down by my emotions. I feel them and they are rightfully so present and they are not facts. I can be depressed and talk myself into washing a spoon even if it feels impossible; I can be angry and wish myself and others well even if it feels like I might cry; I can be happy and cut someone off in traffic because I am in a hurry. It’s all about that inner voice. How are you talking to yourself? Do you notice your feelings? Do you validate them? Do you try to work with them or against them?

I know, oh humans, do I know how hard it can be to change that inner voice. We hear time and time again that we are our own worst enemies, but what if I told you, you are your own best hero. This week maybe when you feel yourself getting angry, at yourself or others, you could try wishing them well. If your inner voice tells you, you are ugly can you then tell yourself that you hope you find happiness? If I happen to cut you off in traffic this week can you send me healing words? (In advance: Sorry if I cut you off in traffic this week.)

If you can’t because you feel overwhelmed, or that voice is too strong to change right now, or you think that sounds like hippy, dippy bullsh*t, that’s okay too. Either way I love you and I think you’re doing your best.

A[wo]men

like blades of grass

soft and hard at the same time

-growing up with a fat body

P.S. Here are some links to help in the fight for Justice for Breonna Taylor:

Change.org Petition

Stand with Bre- Grassroots Law Project

Action Network Petition