When I tell the story of my life path and how I ended up where I seem to be, I most often start with life with my mother.
A beautiful, sensitive spirit, her 41 years of life was a rollercoaster of joy and pain, like most of us, yet from the majority of the memories I can recall, not an enviable one.
When I was nine months old she displayed some odd behaviors, namely trying to make my brother and I throw up believing we would die if we didn’t. This landed her in the hospital for a month to assess what was “wrong” with her.
Several medications and observations later she was sent home with a diagnosis of mental illness. A few different variations but ultimately she was ushered into the box of bipolar disorder…or in those days, Manic Depression.
She would spend the next 14 years trying to find the cure to her manic highs and debilitating lows. She just wanted to feel better, or at least not worse. She searched for answers, prayed, took the advice given, then scrapped the advice given and tried to exist without wanting to die on a regular basis.
Any chance of having a present and nurturing mother was gone before I could walk or say words. My childhood was one of parentification and neglect. Of soothing my mother’s big needs or being on alert for the next blowup, breakdown or suicide intervention. She referred to me as her “little psychiatrist.” She relied on my words and comfort during her darkest of times and I felt compelled to be that support for her. I didn’t want her to leave again.
Days before my fifteenth birthday, she ended her life by suicide. Took over 100 of the pills prescribed to save her life. My job as her caretaker ended, but my new career of becoming a healer for others was just beginning.
At some point, very early after her death, I promised myself I would use the horrible experience I encountered for good. I would find a way to serve others with what I learned. That promise was one I kept. I became a professional counselor and later a master energy therapist. I authored a work-ing book and guide to connect us to ourselves. And another book for children, and those that read to them, with a heartfelt reminder that love never dies.
My passion and gift, it seems, is to seek and find the good in the devastation. The elixir in the pain. And the faith in the fear.
And while all of that is true, and the motivation has been a propelling force since I was young, what I did not know and realize is how the trauma of my childhood affected me. The level of dysregulation in my nervous system, the chronic stress I would accumulate, and how the untamed drive that pushed me to “do good” was also what caused me to burn out and self sabotage.
It would be many years later I would understand the root of my anxiety, the way the parts of me split and overcompensated under stress, the injuries that went ignored inside my psyche and the grief that was delayed because it felt like “too much.”
I spent my lifetime focusing on others needs abandoning my own by default. Partly out of love and partly out of fear.
For the past ten years I’ve been learning to discern which voice is leading the show. And now I’m ready to write and share more about my journey.
As I share my inner world you may see parts of yourself, your patterns, your motives, and your pain points. In fact, I hope you do.
After working with the inner worlds of others for the entirety of my career, I know none of us are alone.
Welcome to the unraveling, one fear at a time.