Pushing Past Hard Times

Where did the time go?

Only a few hours away from the new year and I'm wondering where my spring, summer, and fall went. It's been a looooong while since I posted and I have debated sharing what has been happening or just jumping back in; I opted for the first choice.

Life has been-well, hectic. At the end of May, my writing fell by the wayside. I successfully launched my first-ever blog in January 2023 and had written several pieces I genuinely was proud of. I was engaging social media platforms (a true area of growth and at times a real challenge), getting incredible feedback, and even was offered to write copy for the shelter where I volunteer. I even invited a close friend to guest post on my blog. Then life just seemed to get more and more complicated and less and less manageable. I was trying to balance new writing adventures (dare I say career at this point?... dream probably fits better there), raise three teens, support friends and family, and work on self-care. It was a lot and I thought I had it under control.

This spring, right around spring break, it was hard seeing my daughter struggle with her mental health. She had been experiencing an intense amount of negative thoughts about herself, specifically her body, and stuffed her feelings instead of talking about them. We all do that sometimes, yet her choice to stuff her feelings had very real consequences. She chose to select an unhealthy way of dealing with her feelings and as a result, I enrolled her into therapy. She needed to talk to someone who could help her process her emotions and find healthier ways of coping.

Someone to process emotions and find healthier ways of coping.

I must admit having my daughter deal with such emotions and never breathe a word of it to me hit me harder than I anticipated. I felt as though we had had those conversations, the kinds I didn't have with my mother, that welcomed transparency and honesty, even if fear was involved. We'd had talks about life-altering choices including dropping out of school, unplanned pregnancy, stealing something valuable, even taking someone's life. The message, I thought, was clear: you will mess up, but that will never change my love for you. I would rather you come to me so we can fix it together than for you to hide from me and it likely gets worse. She agreed in all of those conversations, just to end up doing the very thing I begged her not to. It took some time to realize I was heartbroken and I blamed myself.

I wasn't even sure what more I could do, but I knew that if she didn't feel like she could come to me, it was likely my fault. Somewhere along the way, I didn't fully communicate that she was safe with me, that I wouldn't judge her, and that I had experienced the same struggles over body image and even identity when I was her age. I internalized that entire situation and didn't do the very thing I encouraged her to do: talk about it.

In addition to her struggling, I had close friends and family struggling with life decisions. Helping support them was important to me, but I wasn't ensuring I was getting the help I needed. As Sophie began to address some hurts in her life with her therapist, I quickly realized I did not feel equipped to help support her. While I was blaming myself, I was ill-equipped to help her process what she was learning in therapy and how to apply it. I began therapy within two weeks of my daughter's therapy. I began the journey of healing from some deep trauma that I thought had already been addressed and made the connection between not being able to support my daughter and my wounds. I got better at setting boundaries and leaned into what I NEEDED and not what I thought others needed. I was making progress, or so I thought. Even though I had begun therapy, I wasn't always talking about what I was feeling. Sometimes I was convinced once the dam broke, there was no stopping it. So I talked about what I felt I could get through without losing it and tried to limp along in my emotions while attempting to give everyone the best of me.

Well, spoiler alert, it didn't work out.

Sometimes I was convinced once the dam broke, there was no stopping it.

Fast forward through the rest of spring and into summer, and stop on July 13, 2023. This day was my day off. I had worked remotely from home for the past two years and had a Sunday to Wednesday work week. That Thursday is a day I will never forget. The night before, a few friends who were also on the job reached out and let me know they had unexpected meetings with our human resources team, which had only happened a time before that we knew of. It was eight months prior, and the calendar invites all those months ago preceded many of our former colleagues being laid off. There was a nervousness among us that Wednesday evening, however, there was also a sense of hope. We had just received merit raises a couple of months earlier, and many of us had hit our two-year anniversaries. We were inclined to believe that it was a misunderstanding on our part. We could not have prepared for what Thursday, July 13, 2023, presented our entire team of over 40 workers as well as other departments.

I am limited in what I can share about that day, however, I was let go among several other families with children, older parents depending on them, those with wedding plans on the horizon, those who were the only breadwinners in their household, and still others expecting a child within a few months. These examples do not cover the multitude of circumstances my former colleagues faced as they either went to work just to find out they were being laid off or a handful of workers such as myself who were off that day and just waiting to hear the result from others. It was the first of many hard days for me. In total, I was unemployed for a little over four months. I faced deep depression for the majority of those four months.

I tried to stay hopeful, I continued to see my therapist, and I tried to stay honest with my closest friends and family. It hasn't been easy and I would not wish how I felt on anyone, even my worst enemy. I am glad to say I learned that being honest with yourself during difficult times can create the foundation for a lot of self-awareness and growth. Saying how you feel gives listeners the freedom to be honest as well. The emotions surrounding my daughter and her struggles, feeling defeated and depressed from losing my job, and other situations that required my attention--these are a few of the reasons I stepped away from this blog, and that is not something of which I am proud.

I would have loved to have used four months of little commitment to dig in and pump out three to four blogs per week, minimum. I imagined myself working on getting my children's book illustrated and in front of a publisher. I was able to submit a poem to a writing contest and although I didn't win, the poem is being published soon (I'll link here when I have more details), however, creativity for me comes from a place of peace and tranquility. I had hopes writing could assist in my depression, maybe even motivate me in other areas which could keep my mind off of my situation, but alas, that did not happen.

Peace and tranquility. I write better when I have peace and tranquility, at least parts of it anyway.

Peace and tranquility

I have found myself saying that this year, 2023, was a year of loss. I lost a few friendships, I lost my job and as a result my financial stability, I lost a piece of myself when my daughter expressed struggling with her mental health, I lost my sense of hope, and lost many months of writing. Yet during this tremendous amount of loss, I found myself again. I found my voice again, not only through the starting and continuation of this blog but through healing the deepest parts of myself. 2024 will give me the honor and privilege of sharing more of what I've learned about myself and how I find myself unimaginably grateful.

It will be challenging to put some of it into words, but I am up to the challenge.