Dismantled

What if you just let go of your whole life? Let it fall apart at the seams. Step away from your job, forget about your 401k or your investments, or that “what am I supposed to do next” thought. Wake up in the morning whenever your body is ready, and feel out what you want to do that day. What’s calling your soul? 

The part of me that is a “realist” (stuck in the perceived truths of this reality) says yea right. How can you live that way when there are three thousand and forty one things to worry about, to do, to plan for, and that could go wrong. I was taught to work, to fulfill certain social roles, and to build security for my future. Check off all those boxes, and don’t question how limiting it is to be able to fit into any or all of them.

Another aspect of me is just observing myself in the life I’ve created already. I went to school for 8 years, became a doctor, supported myself, moved across the country alone, and travelled to various regions of the world. I look at all that I’ve done and I KNOW that I can do absolutely anything. Because the reality is, I already have.

So I’m here, at this nexus point (again) where I’d like to let it all go. People ask me “how do you do it?” Well, for one, I live a simple life. I am unattached, in several ways. I have no mortgage, car payments, or kids. I am responsible for nobody but myself, and this way of life was a choice. I am unattached from the need to have a mortgage, new car, or kids, to climb the latter at work, or to save the world. These were all very important to me at one point. I needed them like you might need a new iPhone when it comes out. 

Now I am satisfied with the smallest moments of this human experience; hot coffee on my patio, unstructured writing, baking and feeding the people I love, simple interactions with the people I come across, the smell of damp grass in the morning, the colors of the sun reflecting off the clouds, the sound of my own breathing.

With every aspect of my life dismantled, I can get up and ask myself why i am doing what I choose to do. Is it enhancing my ability to enjoy these experiences, or getting in the way of them? This short human experience is a collection of moments, and these moments are OUR choice. 

So what is calling your soul?

Walk from the Mailbox

Silence wraps around my body, and I can feel its cold tail tracing down my skin. My body moves forward, and I hold this stillness close to me. There is nothing pending beyond this moment, and nothing I can remember from before it. All I know is I am free to continue in whichever way I please, to the moment which I next wish to experience. The space is vast around me, and the paths flow endlessly from where I stand. Whichever way my foot lands, it will do so joyfully. Because I am here. Because I AM.

Fitness; Beyond the Physical

Several people have been shocked to see me light up when they ask about my fitness competition. To most it looks like months of a restricted diet and physical exertion. More than once I’ve heard, “I’m tired just thinking about it.” But when I share my experience I start talking really fast and way too much, like I’d just crushed some extra pre-workout. It can be overwhelming to get slammed with this type of energy. I can see it on their bewildered faces.

So how did I get to this place?

Good question. It took me years to get where I am on my fitness journey. And I don’t mean that in a physical way. I’ve been more fit, more flexible, and have had a lower body fat. What I mean is that it took time to arrive at a place where my physical activity was rooted from a place of love.

To see the contrast of where I am today, lets dive into where I started, and more importantly, why.

1. Community

I was an athlete growing up, dedicated to softball year round, basketball in the winter, soccer one fall, and rugby another. It was an outlet for me on several levels. I was a part of a team, and always had a place where I felt that I belonged. I had a mindless escape, it was a beautiful place that allowed me to live only in the present moment.

2. Esthetics

Despite all that, I was slightly overweight (mostly as a kid, and then again in college). So I exercised to look cute in my new bikini, to fit into a new dress, or to be accepted in what was defined as beautiful, which in my youth was being “thin.”

3. Escape

It’s a well known fact that exercise can aid in fighting depression. A 20 minute cardio session pumps you with endorphins, can boost your mood and leave you with energy to push you through the day. As a native New Englander, I experienced seasonal depression from about October through April. The dark months and cold mornings felt draining and in turn I felt lifeless. So when everyone became sedentary and cozy at home, I ramped up my workout regimen. I tried to trick my body into thinking it was spring. I basked in the LED lighting at the gym. When I could feel the blood pumping through my veins, the pounding of my heart, and sweat drip through my clothes I felt grounded in my body again. I felt alive.

I didn’t always cope this way. In college I used alcohol and drugs as my escape. It was easier, it was quicker, and at that point I was strictly existing in a place of survival. That instant gratification spiraled into a constant source of comfort, until fitness made its way back to me. In this way, although I hadn’t addressed the true source of my depression, I traded one addiction for another, seemingly healthier one.

4. Empowerment

At 30, I drastically shifted my perspective on fitness. I no longer exercise to “fix” a part of my body or to escape my negative emotions. How did I get here? By working through those internal conflicts! Yes, this is a physical and spiritual journey. Addressing my belief systems and thought processes allowed me to heal and then detach from my coping mechanisms. 

Now I exercise to celebrate my body, to celebrate my current strength and to push the limitations that I had placed for myself. I consciously choose to work out, simply because it’s fun to me. Honestly, it has only been fun after removing the judgement and the pressure of image and performance.

How I Use this Mindset During Prep:

During my competition prep I’ve learned the importance of intuitive eating and exercise. Do I follow my coach and her plan? Yes, in a way. She gives me a list of workouts for the week, and while I complete them all, I do so at my discretion. I choose the workout I’m doing that day based on how my body feels. Do I count macros? Yes. But I choose to eat those foods when I feel hungry. 

It’s true, the plan is strict, but it is not imprisoning. Does it take time? Yes, but I still have time for everything else. There is no feeling of sacrifice when my time spent exercising is a conscious choice and not a task to complete out of obligation. This has been the big difference in shifting exercise from a physical need to a source of joy.

Burnout: What Is It and Where Did it Come From?

The term “burnout” has gained popularity in the last few years. We hear warnings about it, and symptoms like it’s a contagious disease. 

But it’s not, it’s just a disconnect between your daily actions and your soul’s purpose. 

There’s an unbearable level of exhaustion that comes from living life by the limiting rules that society has constructed for us. Have you ever gotten up and felt like someone hit the repeat button on your life? “Is it Tuesday or Wednesday?” you ask yourself, but you can’t tell because every day is the exact same experience. 

Running on this never ending hamster wheel can be tiring, but sometimes we can’t see it until we crash. Whether it’s an existential crisis, a reckless night that leads to self sabotage, or a physical illness, life will show us that we can’t continue this way.

If you hate your job or where you’re at in life, you may not know what to do. The only thing that is clear is that you need a change.

If you love what you do, that’s great, so do I! But I’ve learned that the passion I’ve had for my career left me blind to the fact that there is more to life than just that, there is an unlimited amount of experiences to be had. You can love something, enjoy it, and then move on to another.

So, burn out. What does it feel like?

Dread. Like your body feels so heavy that you drag your feet to get to work and are too drained to do anything afterwards. It’s leaving for lunch and fantasizing about driving as far as your car will take you. It’s being excited about a flat tire because hmm…. I just might not make it in today.

Okay, those are pretty extreme. It can also be feelings of anxiety, nervousness, and fatigue. It may appear to you in a plethora of ways, we are all different in how we feel discontent.

So how do we wind up burnt out when we pursue the career we always wanted? I had my first feelings of burn out in the first year of my career, and I wondered how I’d gotten there so fast. The truth is that I’d been working for years to get to where I was. My life decisions to this point were rooted in my attachment to his outcome: to a job, a position, a title. I had glorified it, and it fell short of all my unrealistic expectations.

I invested time, money, and energy into learning a skill that I thought would bring me value. Yet all it lead to was work, to a position on the hamster wheel. There I was working for someone else, for hours that I couldn’t dictate, with little to no benefits. I had strived to work in a system that didn’t allow me to move.

Have you ever worked with someone who just gets up one day, loses it, and walks out? This is an obvious consequence to working in a space that is out of alignment. The dangers of burnout that we don't see, however, is the self doubt that can creep up, the poor decision making, the mind fog, anxiety that doesn’t leave when the day is over, depression, poor quality of work, and decreased creativity and learning.

Bring an awareness to your feelings throughout the day to see if you’re experiencing burn out in your career choice. Are you excited for your day, are you seeking expansion in your role? Do you have the passion you did on your first day in the office? Or are you tired and working from a place of obligation?

I found that writing down my feelings in the moment allowed me to look back on my daily experiences and gauge whether or not those were aligned with the life I am striving to create. Acknowledging where I am has led me to take action towards where I want to be.

What Talk Therapy Did and Didn't Do For Me

For some people, it takes dramatic hardships and steep lows to seek out therapy. How many couples come in when their marriage is about to break? How many young professionals roll in mid burn out, or in the throws of some existential crisis? 

I’m sure it’s more than we’d hope. I was one of those people. 

Talk therapy has become popular now, and accepted as a normal “self care” practice. It’s in all our favorite movies and shows, and it’s become a norm in a generation inspired to seek self fulfillment and joy. We’re also living in a time of intense trauma, both on a personal and global level, where everyone needs to talk to someone.

Here’s what therapy did for me, what it lacked, and what I learned:

1. Therapy made space for me to be human.

In therapy I could share my feelings about anything and everything. I could have a pity party over the coworker who annoys me, and vent about the man who didn’t give me the attention I wanted, because that was what I was there for. It was a space for me to unload without severing a personal relationship, and to let out all of my emotions in the most raw, child like form without social repercussions. It was a wonderful release.

2. Therapy validated my feelings when I didn’t know how to.

Sometimes, the weight of the world can be sitting on our shoulders, but we are still okay. We experience things through life and move on, perhaps we're suffering but still functional. You’re friends see it, your family knows it. You’re strong, you’ll be fine. Sometimes all we need is for an outsider to confirm that, “that must have been hard,”  or “that was a lot.” Simple, short words can let you unravel at the seams and acknowledge that sometimes it’s okay to not be okay. For me this validation was life changing. “You don’t have to be perfect, you don’t always have to be strong,” opened up a door of vulnerability in my life that allowed me to face myself on a deeper level.

3. I heard my story out loud. Over and over again.

Therapists are great at rooting your behavior and feelings back to an earlier event in life. The smallest childhood traumas can skew your perceptions, and these are the lenses we see the world through. Pinpoint the trauma to understand the perception. Root it back. Explain the experience, and feel the emotions. We have to feel these emotions to fully release them, but then what? This is what was lacking for me, this was the point where I felt stuck. I could pinpoint the cause of a feeling or reaction, but I had no tools to pivot and move forward. I have a story, yes, we all do. But how do we change the story? Without these tools we are running in circles, and simply reliving these moments, as if we’re stuck in a time loop. How can we create the life we want if we’re stuck in the past?

Simple; you can’t. Knowing that I had stories and was replaying them in a viscous cycle inspired me to dig deeper. I needed more. I did an emotional healing retreat that brought me into a spiritual practice and opened up my inner world. Only then did my outer world change. I learned to connect with my inner child, with the shadow aspects of myself, feel emotions I’d pushed aside, and learn to regulate those emotions through reparenting techniques. Again, this retreat was simply a doorway that led me to another healing modality, Marconics, which continued to expand my consciousness and shift my life. 

We’re all on our own separate paths, and yours may look very different than mine. For so long I thought psychology would change my life, but what I needed was a spiritual awakening. Know that if you feel defeated after years of therapy and little progress, there is more out there for you!

4. Finding a therapist is like dating.

I saw 4 therapists in a year’s time. The first one told me that it sounded like I was doing pretty well, and wasn’t clear on what I was seeking. The second one felt more like a friend to me, and actually started sharing a lot more of his life with me than I did with him. He was late to our appointments, sometimes forgot, and would often vent about the pandemic. It made me wonder who therapists talked to, but my curiosity wasn’t enough to stay around and find out. 

The stories go on and on. The point is that I had to find someone who didn’t fit the image I had of who I would “mesh with.” Someone that was neutral, and didn’t tiptoe their way into our sessions, and wasn’t afraid to tell me things how it is. It may be appealing to find someone who is warm and like minded, or someone who is simply empathic and understanding. Yes, we need to feel comfortable and receive compassion in this setting, but we also have to remember that the people who tell us the hard truth and inspire us to sit in our discomfort are the people who truly care about our well being and personal progress. 

5. This is your journey, and yours alone.

You are your own advocate, no one will ever care more about your healing journey than you. Yes, you’re paying someone to assist you in navigating whatever it is you have going on, but at the end of the day, the work is yours to do. Don’t hand your life over to someone else to “fix your life.” They may have titles and qualifications and experience that you trust in, but handing over your power is self limiting. Only you have the power to change your life, and to create a reality that is all that you’ve imagined or more.

Whether you’re lost and not sure what’s missing in life, or you’ve been seeking guidance for years, there is a new place for you. Therapy, like life experience itself, is a tool to add to your armamentarium as you move forward. But remember, it is just that: a tool.

 There is a turn in the road that can lead you to your greatest path, so long as you’re looking within and are open to finding it. 

A Week Away

I Took A Week Away From the Things I Love, Here’s What I Learned

Have you ever been in a place where it feels like everything is going right? Things are good, and you feel like you finally figured it out?… I did. I have a pretty comfortable job, working 4 days a week, a man that I am incredibly happy with, and I am finally training for a fitness competition, putting me in the best shape of my life. 

I’ve been checking off my goals one by one.

Normally, I would harp on this momentum and ride it out as hard as I could. I feel like life is like that sometimes, cycles of greatness and this positive momentum that picks up speed and moves forward into what you think you want. Until it’s not. It slows down or it can crash, and it might feel like you’re back to the beginning and having to start all over again.

That’s where I was.. picking up speed. My boyfriend and I had just taken a step forward in our relationship. He gave me a key to his place, we have our first vacation planned, and I’d just started spending more time with his kids. My body was changing and constantly evolving to fit the build I needed for my bikini competition. My income had ramped up after a few months in my office. I was THRIVING. But instead of being swept away by the high of it all, I took a step back and stopped “doing” for a week. EVERYTHING (but work—I’ve done that extensively before).

For a week I let go of the things that I loved. But WHY? I know you’re asking that, because I had asked that too when it was first suggested to me. At first it felt like punishment, like why should I let go of the things that I love? Why, when I’m finally truly happy?

Because happiness can be an escape. 

Because who am I when I'm not a girlfriend, or an athlete, or achieving something?

Because I needed to be the source of my own happiness, and feel it without any external influence.

Because I need to discern if what I do is out of expectation, to escape, or from a place of love.

Because what we love can so easily become an attachment (something we need).

So what was it like?

At first, it was hard. I felt uncomfortable and restless, and sometimes I didn’t even realize that I was doing things. I didn’t understand what it meant to do nothing, so i would paint or leave for a walk, and realize that I hadn’t stopped. I caught myself in those moments, and had to tell myself to stop. To sit. And remind myself that it was okay to just be.

The awareness of my body changed. I honestly lost an awareness of it. I was so used to being sore when I moved and reminded of the work I’d put in. Without that I felt soft and supple, until I really didn’t feel my body at all beyond: I’m hungry, I’m tired. And so my eating and sleep became more intuitive and less routine based.

Things away from my boyfriend have been pretty comical. I’ll start with this: letting him go (even for the short period that I did) was the main reason it took me so long to start this. I cried when I last saw him, as if it was our last goodbye. (Cue the tiny violin). But then on our first day apart, I ran into him at COSTCO, a store that neither of us have a membership at. (I was using my cousin’s and he was getting his renewed). The day after that I was parked behind him at a stop light on my way home from work. Despite us taking our own paths, the universe conspired to bring us together. It was very confirming for me to see the depth of our connection in these synchronicities, and that made it all the easier to let go. I could fully surrender because I had faith that what was for me would find me. I do not love him less, or wish to stay apart. But without him I am still content, I am still whole, I am still me.

The biggest shift is that I felt more present. I didn’t have the gym to look forward to, or a night with my guy. So when I was at work, I was just at work. I was in the NOW, and time escaped me. There was no part of me focusing on the future, so I took my time with patients, I engaged more with my co workers, and honestly forgot about everything beyond what was in front of me. It felt like the days slowed down, and I realized that I enjoyed work more than I’d thought. It didn’t feel like an obligation holding me back from other things that I loved, it just was what it was. 

Being present wasn't just about fully absorbing what was happening around me in the moment either-- I felt this too. It was about differentiating if my life decisions are rooted from me NOW or a past version of myself that I was still clinging onto. 

Here's an example. Let's say you have a strong craving for mint chocolate chip ice cream, and you search every shop in the area, but they're all out. It's all you want, and all your mind can focus on for however long you search. Weeks, months, or years go by and someone brings you an unopened, slightly frosted pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream on what happens to be the hottest day of the summer. Do you dive into it to satisfy this former craving, or do you stop, ask yourself what the you in this NOW moment wants and honor that? It may be a yes, it's still your favorite flavor and you were just thinking about ice cream. Or you may find that your preferences have changed. Or that the craving only exists in your mind as something to be fulfilled, a form of accomplishment--- you finally got what you wanted! It can feel hard to let that go. I've learned that the ice cream (for me it represents validation/love) isn't what I needed to let go of, what I had to release was the version of me that thought I needed to fulfill that craving to be satisfied. 

"It's not about the people, it's about the pattern." (this was yelled to me in a dream this week)

What a wise statement. This helped me step back and look at the dynamics in my life from a birds eye view. Each person was placed in my life for the purpose of reflecting something to me. Some lesson, some pattern, some aspect of myself that I had to learn from and let go of. This perspective allowed me to feel and release the emotions I associated with them. Whatever was happening between us, was for a greater purpose than eliciting an emotion in me. That was just a tool. I can't label them as anything more than a catalyst in my soul's evolution. I am now extremely grateful for every interaction; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Stepping away from what I felt allowed me to see what was being presented to me. And it is ALWAYS an opportunity to choose greater, or to choose different, to choose myself, or to break a pattern in my life.

After all is said and done, here is what I know now: 

* I love my boyfriend, but I am also happy by myself. I can choose to be with him AND still choose myself fully.

* I love being an athlete, I love the journey it’s taken me on, but it does not define me. I can choose to do it how I want to and when it feels good to me. And if I choose to not do it at all, then so be it. 

* There is time for everything. There will always be time for the people and the things that I love. There will always be time for myself. But I will only truly feel joy in the present, living a life as who I am NOW.

*Every moment is an opportunity to be different, to choose to become a better version of myself, and to create a better life.

WHAT WOULD BE HARD FOR YOU TO LET GO OF? WHO WOULD IT SEEM HARD TO LIVE WITHOUT?

Lighthouse

This dream was all of about a 2 minute experience. But it’s power is irrelevant to it’s measurement in linear time. Honestly, the expression of these words feels like a limitation to what I truly felt, I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.

Coming into this dream was like waking up in a new space. I was surrounded in white as if I was stuck inside a floating cloud. There was no horizon beyond me, and no apparent beginning or end to where I was. But I didn’t feel lost, or scared or nervous. Actually, all my attention was in the weight of my arms. I rested a chunky little baby on my left hip. I could count the rolls on its legs and arms, and saw the thin black hair fluttering over its eyes (i think it was a girl). She looked about 9 months old, and was heavy. 

Immediately, I saw Abran. He walked up towards me, appearing from nowhere and nothing. He felt tall to me, like a large presence in this space. He had one hand free, and his other latched onto the girls, who formed a chain behind him. A smile started to grow on his face like it always does. It’s this little smirk he has that widens until his whole face is engaged and radiating joy. Like it’s shooting from the lines around his squinted eyes and vibrating through his teeth. His whole face just glows and it’s like a wave of warmth falls on you. It’s the first thing I ever noticed about him, and why I couldn't look away.

We lock eyes as he raises his free hand. We don’t speak, and I don’t move, I just watch. His hand comes from above and lands softy on my head. As soon as his fingers graze my hair, I feel everything shift inside of me. It’s like a wave of slowly dripping heat is pouring out of his hands and hitting each molecule in my body. One by one I feel it touch my head, then face, then back, each area exploding in an orgasmic sensation. In a wave, my body releases a ray of light that beams out into the space around me in until I can see a full colorful spectrum in this once white space. I thought I was having a full body orgasm at first, but it was different. It was happening on a cellular level, and it continued throughout my body until every part of me was filled with euphoria, and I was floating. The pleasure was all consuming, and this golden light reflected to me with the intensity of the sun. I couldn’t sustain it, my physical body could not handle it, so I woke up, fully alert and lying beside him. 

Coming Home

I entered my apartment like a bull in a China shop. I whipped the door open and dropped everything loudly on the floor. I didn’t even empty the luggage out of my car. I was done with everything today. I’d spent the weekend with hundreds of healthcare colleagues, learning about esthetic treatments and the technology of the future. Fractional plasma for collagen regeneration, acoustic waves to improve circulation, all these machines utilizing energy/ high frequency waves to cause cellular change. It was fascinating, and each provider had their own niche and perspective on treatment. But with each person also came an energy to adapt to, and a presence floating like a cloud in my personal space. It was exhausting. I’d slept 9 hours a night, and gotten some physical activity in, but each morning I still woke up with a swollen face, feeling like I was dragging 145 pounds of dead weight. 

I got back to my apartment with my face red and puffy from crying. I’d felt such a relief in my car, just sitting in my own energy. Like a space had opened for me to release every piece of debris I’d picked up over the weekend. I felt like it’d accumulated on my back and was sticking on my skin. In that moment I opened the valve I’d held so tight, and let it release in a wave of grief and anger. While I drove, I even contemplated where I’d go; home to Karina or home to Abran? In reality, I didn’t want to see either of them, I didn’t want to see anyone at all. 

I went to both of them anyway.

Karina filled me in on her week as I laid wrapped up on the couch. I’d missed out on her internal realizations, work, her relationship, and what she knew she needed to work on. I listened to her intently, as Abran bursted through the door. He laid on me, his arms wrapped around my body and his cheek pressed against mine. I held eye contact with Karina through the window that his arms formed around my face. If Karina wasn’t as weird as he was, I don’t know how we would all co-exist. But we did these things without batting an eye, it was just another day in the Treehouse (my apt). 

As time went on I felt Abran just melting into me. His heat merged with mine, and I felt myself slow down under the pressure of his body. I was calm, my mind was clear, and a peace settled over me and the whole space around us. I felt tears welt up again, but from a different place. 

“I feel like I’ve been gone a million years,” I told him. I wasn’t referring to the three days I spent in Austin without him, or the 30 years Id lived without this love. I felt like I’d just come home in this moment, to myself. Like I’d been wandering lost for lifetimes, searching for my purpose or my truth, or a little space where I felt that I fit. But here it was, clear as day. In that moment I knew exactly who I was, and I fit so perfectly in this body, and in this time and space. I was home.

Cue: Coming Home by City and Colour

Speeding on a Sunday

I was driving home from the lake, just flying from lane to lane on the tollway. My clothes were soaked through with sweat, and I could feel the stiffness of my sun burnt shoulders. 

Ah I cant wait to take a cold shower, I thought, and then sit with my feet up on the couch. I showed up at the lake this morning for the scene. The trees are vibrant this time of year, and the flowers have grown wild after the dramatic bursts of rain. It’s always been my favorite spot in Dallas— to bike, walk, run, or just hang up the hammock and read.

I decided to run today, despite having an oozing laceration on my shin. My legs also burned with residual soreness from my leg day and a 90 minute myofascial massage. It’s fine, I thought. I’ll run the lactic acid out, and walk when I’m feeling tired. And so I did, for the whole 9 mile loop around the lake. It was like a game; run in the sun and a cool down recovery walk in the shade, any shade I could find. When I say it was like a game, I mean it was like the Hunger Games, and the only choice here was to survive.

As I drove the 20 minutes home, the exhaustion set in, and the hunger, but I also felt a sense of completion and strength. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” I felt like I’d walked a fine line on that one today. Running in the sun with no water… hmm it could kill me. An infection on an open wound?? Mehh, maybe dangerous. My life choices were a little iffy today although I knew that I would make it. But was I any better for that?

I finally saw my exit, “Windhaven 1/4 mile.” and I scooted my way to the right. I imagined cold water pouring over me, and a chocolate smoothie as I rested in my PJ’s. I felt so excited, so grateful for the Treehouse, and the day that lay ahead for me. A day of rest. 

I rode down the ramp and yielded to a mass of cars merging onto the highway. As I slowed down, I turned my head over my shoulder but got stuck. My seatbelt locked and my body was tightly held against the seat. I couldn't turn to check my blind spots, I couldn’t see what was coming from behind me. One car whipped by and cut in front of me, then another. A couple more were still coming, from what I could tell from my rear view mirror. By that point, I’d slowed to a stop, hoping the cars behind me would too. My seatbelt dug into my chest, and I sat there staring forward and to the mirror with my peripherals. Eventually, when all seemed clear, I moved forward, switching 3 lanes to the right so I could turn onto Windhaven. As I pulled off of the ramp, my seatbelt moved with full motion, like it had never been locked at all. 

I was dancing on this fine line again, I could feel it. Except I was being twirled uncontrollably, and didn’t know the moves or where to place my feet. I’d chosen this today instead of flowing with what I felt was true to me. I was tired this morning and could have rested by the pool. But  I locked myself in this mindset of “I should do this, I should do that, do do do, more more more.” And in pushing myself to that limit, I really just kept myself stuck in the same old place I’d been trying to run from. How many times has life brought me to a halt because I couldn’t see the signs that said “SLOW DOWN!!”? One too many, but I’m done not listening. 

Cue: Vienna by Billy Joel

Future Man

(I wrote this to myself in 2021 as a reminder of what is out there, and of what I deserve. I honestly don't even remember writing this.)

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One day I will meet a man who sees me, who hears me, who knows me in his heart, and chooses me. A man who knows himself and is loyal to his truth. Who knows what he wants and what he is capable of. A man who trusts me with his heart, with his thoughts, and with his future.  A man who who leads and protects me, who is soft with me and leans into me when he is low. A man who shares his thoughts, his dreams, his emotions, knowing that they are safe with me. One day I will meet a man who feels my light like he feels my body. Who trusts me to bear him life. Who wants to see his essence merged with mine.

One day I will meet a man who I surrender to with my body, my mind, and my spirit. Whom I reveal myself to completely, from whom I can not hide and do not want to. A man I hold space for and fully receive. A man I pour my all into. A man I will follow through darkness and light, over space and over time. A man I feel safe with, even from myself. 

If he loves you, he will tell you and he will show you. You will know. If you’re confused about if he loves you it’s because he doesn’t. Silence is just as much of an answer as words. Not choosing is also a choice.

Last Call

I sunk into the couch of Jim’s dim lit office. It wasn’t how I wanted to spend my Saturday morning, but it was the only time I had. “Okay, let’s do this,” I thought.

I was on therapist number 4 now. The first one was cold and dismissive, the second one felt more like a friend, and the third just had nothing to say. I was quick to move to the next one.. I needed thorough and efficient, a quick fix me up to get me on my way. 

Not today. Now I knew that nothing would be quick, and no one was going to give me some secret to set my life straight. My relationships were non-restorable now. I’d exited them like a villain in a Marvel movie, smiling through a fire with a city imploding behind me. There was nowhere left to go back to, and no one to look “fixed” for. Now, I was doing this for me.

I shared it all, the things I never talked about, details I withheld from the first three providers, secrets I’d never even admitted to myself. I spoke them out loud, and they lingered in that room like a cloud of smoke. 

In that hour I was hot, and then sweating, my heart pounded and my mouth went dry. I sat there with hands too shaky to take a sip of water. I tripped over my words and fidgeted from one position to another like the topics we were burning through. At the end I felt nothing but exhaustion.

I felt lost after each session, as if I’d been misplaced in time and space and was weaving back from my thoughts to the physical world. I’d take walks outside to decompress or wander through stores in my disoriented state. Sometimes I’d just sit on my couch until the white noise faded and I was able to shift back into reality again. Dissociating was like my hidden talent, though I’d never mastered the coming back part.

“What would make me feel better?” I thought. I started to make a list, and jotted down anything that made me happy in the past.

Usually I worked. Recently I’d picked up weekend shifts because the weekends felt too long at home. This Saturday afternoon I did my usual things; gym, food, read, a movie. Sunday morning called for a 3 hour bike ride in the sun. I showered and did my hair— an unusual occasion and attempt to feel pretty. When I finally sat down my only thought was “what’s next?” My body was tired, but my mind was restless. I was flooded in endorphins and all I felt was anxiety. Like that cloud of spoken words and feelings was following me everywhere, and I could barely even breath.

Jay picked me up for coffee like he said he would. He ran over on brunch with his friends and I felt like I’d been waiting for forever. Coffee would be good, I thought, going out would be good, not being alone would be great. 

“You still want to get coffee?” he asked me as I climbed into his truck. 

“Yea, or a beer.” I responded, sarcastically but serious too.

“We can get a beer.” he said.

“I shouldn’t. We should get coffee.” I’d quit drinking, and he knew that. I was 2 months out from my last disaster. 

It was 3pm on a Sunday and there weren't many coffee shops still open. Granted, we didn’t look too hard before we made our way to a local bar, “Okay,” I said, “Maybe just one.”

A beer and good conversation, that’s all I needed. But like dominos falling in a line, one beer turned to two beers, to tequila shots to, “I’ll see if I can get some blow.” That was my cue to leave.

We wandered around Uptown in a haze. We frolicked the 2 blocks back to the car like kids skipping in the grass. The buildings, the people, my thoughts, they were all a blur in the background. I felt fluid and free. Uninhibited. Like I could do anything, because every thought and feeling was frozen in a world I’d escaped from. I was floating high above it all, ignoring the fact that I’d fall just as hard. And I did.

I woke up the next day for work with a feeling I’d never felt before. The anxiety and the pain that had consumed me was gone. So was the euphoria. I felt dead. I came and went and worked for days with no recollection of it. I moved through my life like a robot, running on autopilot. Like a body with its soul sucked out.

Alcohol had brought me solace for 18 years, but that morning I knew it couldn’t help me anymore. Suddenly, I was aware that it was slowly killing me, not so much my body, but my spirit. I successfully deadened myself; the darkness, the guilt, the shame, the pain, but the good, the love, and light went with it. With each moment of escape I drifted further and further from my true self, from fully experiencing life. I knew I could continue to survive, jumping from one external remedy to another. Or I could feel may way through it all to a life that is real. I knew that I couldn’t have both, and that the choice was mine, and the time to choose was now.

That day, I chose to live.