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When things get ugly and fast.

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  The Monday I had Jury Duty, was the Monday after my cousin's wedding, at the beginning of September. The Friday before that Saturday, the kids and I finally were able to take out most of the old furniture out of the house and take it to the dump. I have been wanting to do this for years, but my mental health wouldn't allow it. Whenever I thought about it, or about pushing myself to do it, I couldn't, making things worse with guilt and shame. That Friday evening, after we came back home, it felt peaceful and joyful. The house felt emptier, but the good kind of empty. We were too tired to drive three hours for the wedding, so we waited for Saturday morning. When I have too much going on and I know stress will become excessive, I zone out to stay in the present, telling myself I can handle whatever I have in front of me. I knew the following week was going to be tough after the weekend trip, and I was afraid of tiring myself too much again, resulting in another depressive ep
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The work of Acceptance.

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Having to accept myself has been crucial in my journey of recovery.  It's also very difficult - to accept myself, and to truly love myself. When dealing with trauma, acceptance and self-love become the arduous work of a lifetime.  Safety is priority, not acceptance. Accepting myself didn't feel safe because I learnt, as a child, that whenever I tried to be authentic, or said what was on my mind, shared dreams, opinions, and/or emotions, the outcome would be punishment and shame. The result of being myself was abuse, either physical or mental.  I had to keep myself safe, not accept myself, to survive.  And it is impossible to love ourselves in survival mode.  As a child I needed to be "seen, heard, and supported, to develop a strong sense of self-worth." Children need this. This is how we develop acceptance and self-love.  I still find myself on edge, on fight or flight mode, trying to keep me safe. It's very difficult to get out of this place and into life.  The w
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Darkness and Light coexist.

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My old therapist, from years ago, once told me that light and darkness coexist. She said, "You have been wanting to get rid of your darkness since I started talking with you; why?" I don't remember saying anything to her. I was trying to process what she had said; that light and darkness coexist. But mainly, I was thinking, defensively, "Not this darkness and these demons I am dealing with; this is different and scary and it overpowers me. I don't want it, and I don't know how to get rid of it. Please tell me how to get rid of it!" After many years of struggle, I am understanding, slowly, that where there is light there is also darkness. That although I will never be okay with the events that got me to so much darkness, building up since childhood and into my adulthood, I may be able to understand and know about light, because I know the depths of darkness. One has to truly know about darkness in order to know the light. It is here where I have found mos
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A Letter to my present Self-

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  I hope “the night sky touches your soul. I hope you fall in love with being alive again." I hope you fall in love with yourself, after trauma. I hope you choose this, each day. I hope you continue to love mountains, sunsets, beaches and rain. Coffee, candles, perfume and flowers. The morning breeze. All the ordinary, little things and moments of daily life. Especially the days you need to hang on to something. I hope you never stop fighting and rescuing yourself. Smiling with strangers, children, animals and nature. I hope you continue to love all of your repaired pieces, even with their cracks.  I hope you know that when you were broken, it was not a sign of weakness, but of strength, humility, honesty and acceptance. That it was needed for transformation. I hope you do your best to choose genuineness and expression over protectiveness and isolation.  I hope all that you have endured inspires others.   I hope you open yourself to love and to "the beauty of the earth;"
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A journey ends. A journey begins.

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Healing got intense. Really intense. The transformation. The transition. The transition from victim to survivor has been exhausting and brutal.  A journey had to end- the Spiritual journey. It's been ten years and a half, and exactly nine years when, in August of 2015, in the midst of my distress and confusion, when I asked God for help, the answer was, "write a book." I always imagined the journey would end in a form of a miracle. All would be well. I would stand up, in my power and strength with my shiny armor ready to build and take-on the world. Boy was I wrong! These past weeks, I started having that small realization when my soul knew it was time to end this journey and begin a new one.  Maybe it was supposed to be my choice? I could no longer wait for a miracle or for the journey to end on its own. For everything to have a resolution. For myself to be in that state of perfection that is not even possible; it never will. Ending the journey didn't mean perfection
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"Six Impossible Things..."

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I watched Alice in Wonderland the other day, again. I always liked the part where she talks about imagining "Six Impossible Things before breakfast," so I came up with my own list, of my own Impossible things: Healing is possible. The house project is possible - Paint, new floors, and get rid of the old furniture. Write a book. Share my Story. Create an organization dedicated to consciousness and awareness about abuse, trauma, mental health and recovery. 5 & 6 are more personal.  I suppose that challenging my mind to start believing, is "an excellent practice." "A crazy, mad, wonderful idea." Paty ♥ Learn. Believe. Allow.
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The struggles of not believing in myself.

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One of the effects of trauma and mental health has been not believing in myself. I was feeling some strength, as a result of the intense work of recovery, but I soon came into a wall of disbelief. It stopped me cold. As I was becoming my intense fears, again, I managed to do some rescue, observe, and ask myself " Why?" "Why is this severe fear continuing to paralyze me?" "And why does it feel so real?" I kept my mind and heart open; started paying attention to my thoughts and automatic reactions to those thoughts. The thing is that those thoughts feel real and true, so the ability to just recognize them is really hard. Saying, "wait a second, maybe this isn't real...is this real? Where is this coming from?" Then going back to the thought, process the thought, and pay attention to what I want to do in response to that thought. Immediately feeling that it doesn't feel right; that there is something wrong there, but why? Where is it coming f
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