My Journey Into Silence and Darkness 

It’s been a bit since I’ve been here. I haven’t wanted to share because sometimes posting here makes things real. Life for me has been incredibly hard. Everyday is kicking my ass. Everyday feels like I’m losing. My journey is dark and many ways silent. I feel so very alone on my path and as each day passes it’s gets more difficult to live in this isolation that I have created.

The outside world is still so harsh and seemingly gets worse the longer this administration is allowed to function unchecked. I try my best to limit my exposure but also want to be informed as to what’s happening. As much as I want to, I just can’t pretend to not care but I also need to protect myself from the overwhelming amount of racism, hate, and cruelty we are all being exposed to. It makes me incredibly sad to see my country behave like this and I don’t want to be a part of it. I care about people- ALL people. Not real happy with MAGA supporters but. 

My inside world is struggling so mightily. My brain overflows with thoughts and words that I can’t always make sense of. The internal dialogue can be so harsh. I commented some weeks back that things have shifted and I’m feeling that so strongly these days.

I’m slowly giving in, giving up. I don’t know how much longer I can sustain myself. That sentence says it all- sustain myself. I know I am a strong woman, but I don’t see where it’s even possible for me to pull myself out of how far I’ve fallen. I have set myself up to fail by not having a support system in place for these years when I need it most. 

My total health is crap right now. My mental and emotional health sucks. My physical health has been deteriorating ever since I had cancer and I would have to say I feel worse right now than I ever have in my entire life. I’ve went to so many doctors and had so many tests and here I sit almost 5 years into symptoms with zero answers of why this stuff is malfunctioning or how to help. 

How can my mental health improve as my body fails? Not sure it’s possible. While I do believe in mind/body, I don’t believe that a person creates their own health issues in the mind. For myself, I do think mental struggles can exasperate the physical symptoms. I get so tired of being dismissed and gaslit by people claiming it’s all in your mind. One day I’ll post about this as I’m very passionate on this topic. 

Giving up and giving in. Little by little, part by part, I seem to be surrendering to the beliefs that things will never change, that so many parts of me will never even get a chance to change or heal. Lots of grieving has been going on internally because of the acceptance. Many parts have felt cornered, frustrated with being stuck so they surrender. My parts are tired of the struggling, feeling like we are fighting a losing battle. They don’t have the strength to continue the fight.

In many ways I am preparing for the inevitable. I’m losing parts of myself. I’m allowing the giving up and giving in. I have accepted the facts that I have limited resources that factor in including support and finances. If something major would happen I am just shit out of luck. I can’t do it all for myself any longer as I’m just not physically and mentally able. 

I have tried so hard to help myself. So many different things and ways and people and yet there seems to be no answers for me, nothing that truly gives me any hope of recovery. And that’s it in a nutshell. I have lost any hope of change.

Hopelessness waxes and wanes in my life. It has been a huge part of depression for me. This seems bigger than that. I understand it though. When you’ve been fighting for answers and solutions as long as I have and received zero else, ending the struggle becomes real. 

I talk about suicide because I think about suicide. Those that may panic when they hear the word don’t understand how suicidality can be chronic. I am not in immediate danger of killing myself today but I am at risk that it could happen. That became very real for me this week when I realized I was actually willing to go through with it. There is nothing here on this earth that makes me want to stay much longer. No person would really miss me and I’m not attached to my cats enough to keep fighting for them. I don’t have FOMO as I’ve done enough things in my life and I don’t have a bucket list. 

In some ways, it’s a comfort to know I’m willing because at least it’s an answer to end the suffering of my symptoms, a solution that I have not found anywhere else. In other ways it’s sad that I feel I have no other options but it’s where I’m at. I haven’t set a time limit for my self and I will continue to do what I can.

My darkness is thick and unrelenting. The heaviness of the burdens are becoming too much to bare. I am very much alone in the silence, in the private hell that I’ve created for myself. I’m not living. I’m just dying, little by little; part by part, slipping away into the abyss; the point of no return. 

Point of no return? Time will tell. Not today. Substances sustaining me for now. 

Is there anyone out there? I’ll let you know before I go.

3-13-26 

2026 The Long Road Home: My Journey Into The Darkness 

It’s three weeks into 2026. The outside world is becoming so hard to watch, so hard to understand the cruelty and violence happening right here in the USA. Just another added layer of harshness for me to figure out how to navigate. There seems to be no real escape. 

I have tried so hard but I’m so very tired. I no longer have any realistic expectations that I will ever get any better than I am right here and right now. I’ve spent many hours in therapy talking, just as many if not more reading and watching and trying to educate myself. I’ve taken medications, bought the programs and workbooks, done the breathing and meditations and so many kinds of exercises- all supposed “gold standards” for treating trauma with “proven” research and result but I’ve come to realize that research apparently doesn’t include anyone like me because NONE OF IT WORKS FOR ME!

When I embarked on my journey into the world of therapy, I didn’t expect miracles or quick cures. I never even expected my therapist to “fix” me even though they all worry enough to comment about that. I knew I was carrying a lot underneath and it would take work which I have happily done. I was hopeful for change. Every single person has told me they can help me feel better about myself and I’ve tried to believe them, but here I am four years later and the only thing that has changed is my awareness of how much I loathe myself and hate my life. Life is so full of triggers for me that safety seems elusive and I just live either in shutdown or fight/flight. 

My life’s circumstances have been altered so much the last 5 years. I went from working 60 plus hours a week, to now having “chronic” health issues, rarely leaving my house or having any connection to anyone or anything. These days I’m often in bed, wasting the day away. I’ve kind of become that weird, crazy old woman, that lives alone with her cats. Life doesn’t fulfill me or excite me or give me any reason to want to keep engaging. While my world has become so small, my struggle has only grown larger. 

I will do my best to keep trying to find answers, to move forward as I always do, but in the background I will be working to manage all my responsibilities so I can be able to depart guilt free. A plan. To find my path home. To be free of the pain, done with the darkness. 

I know that much of what I have written on my blog is not new. Just re-reading my blog has confirmed for me how cyclical my depression is, how it doesn’t ever really get better but just goes up and down and all around. It seems never ending with no way out. I am not living I am just existing and I hate it so much. 

Why should I have to endure so much physical and emotional pain just to survive? I don’t believe in life at all costs. To be told there are no answers, we don’t know, I just have to figure out a way to endure is unacceptable to me. This will be my way of doing things in my control.

The few people that actually loved and accepted me just as I am have all passed away. The pull of having a chance to see them again in some way can be very strong. I don’t have any real hope of ever finding any true friends again in this lifetime. I don’t see any real future where I’ll ever find a life to be worth living. 

I feel a small sense of calm. To know I have a choice, to be able to find relief. I am not afraid. I don’t have fear of missing out. While my life’s path has been difficult, I am fine with the things I have done, places I’ve been, people I have helped. They’re enough. I don’t want to struggle any more. 

2026. A different kind of year for me. Traveling my path. Alone. Finding my way home. Peaceful. No more pain. There is no one else coming to help. The choice is always mine.

1.17.26

The End of the Road

 The End of the Road... 2025

There is about 36 hours left before the clock strikes midnight and 2025 will be complete. I cant say I am sorry to see it go as this has been the second worst year I have had in my entire life.  I only need to read back on this blog to be reminded of how much pain and suffering I have endured to get to this day. Sadly, I don't see where much will be able to change for me so I am not really excited for 2026. It seems that next year I will choose to be the end of my road. 

I have worked so hard the last 4 years to try to get my mental health to improve. I had never been in therapy prior to my cancer albeit for a failed forced attempt when I was a teenager. I went into this thinking I will listen and work hard and I will be able to overcome it all, just as I have used my brains my entire life. Ha ha...naivety at its finest. 

Instead what have I found in the therapy room? Its the most invasive thing I have ever put myself through and not achieved any results. What have I taken from there? Awareness. Awareness of all the shit that lives inside me. I don't feel any better about myself and if I am being honest I actually feel so much worse. Its seems to just have given all those internal critics of mine free reign to wreak havoc inside me. They remind me everyday how much disdain and loathing I have for myself. How I hate the person I am.

Yes it sounds harsh because it is. At least my current therapist has been honest with me and I am thankful for that as I have realized what a crock of shit my previous one was selling me. How she really had no answers but let me stay stuck for over a year and then led me down a path to be raw and open and vulnerable, left me with a huge open wound, actively bleeding, and never coming back to finish the job, but instead just abandoned me in an email. How screwed up that a therapist, a psychologist, a PsyD would fuck with my head and then hurt me so badly. That the person I trusted with so much of my deepest darkest did not help me but instead hurt me so deeply, so purposefully. The hurt from that experience is extreme. I was given no closure, no way to understand, and also left in a mental headspace that has made it hard for me to recover from. How do I truly ever trust anyone again after being treated so poorly? I feel so used, like I was some kind of fucking experiment.

Shame and guilt are hard ones. They rule my life in many ways with shame being at the top of my list. When I was 17, I betrayed myself. I don't mean some insignificant teenage BS. I went against my morals and values and not only hurt myself but another too. It's something I cannot change, fix, or make any kind of amends. So what I was told is to just accept and when I do I hate myself even more everyday for what I did and find no path for forgiveness for me. This self betrayal will haunt me until I take my last breath. 

I don't think anyone truly understands what it’s like to live with someone you hate when that person is Self. Is it really a mystery why I wake up everyday and try to figure out a way to make some hours disappear so I don't have to spend time with myself, my shame, my guilt?? It is so fucking overwhelming because there is no escaping yourself. I am right there in my head, with my thoughts, beating on myself constantly. So I take drugs and just get so fucking high that I cant feel anymore and I can just escape by passing out.

I have no real friends. I missed Christmas because I have had a nasty virus the last 2 weeks but not one person noticed. I didn't hear from anyone. No holiday greetings, no how are you. and that's what my life has become. Isolated, invisible, and alone with all those lovely voices in my head and my cats. This is my life: I get 2 hours a week to talk with my therapist and the other 166 hours in my week I spend with my cats. I won’t be missed when the road ends. I feel a large crash coming soon.

I knew at some point this was coming. I am tired. I cannot keep this up. I feel like an imposter, one who has been faking it for a very long time but has finally been exposed. If I am such a great person, why am I so alone? This question stings because there is no answer that makes sense except for I am not a good person. To give your entire life to others and then end up alone is the story of my life. My reality is that I don't see a way to change this for myself. Where do I find people to just talk to let alone find a friend or build a support system? Unfortunately it's not real safe here in the US to be looking for friends unless of course you're MAGA. How can I even trust my own decisions when everyone I chose over my years is no longer here because they were never really here for me? I blame no one for my situation except for myself and the solution will be mine alone.

I have no doubt that I have paid my societal debt for giving. I have given everything I have to others but on the flip side that has left very little for me to give myself. My tank is beyond empty with no real way to fill it up. Its just not possible to provide myself with all I need and believe me I have been trying with all I have but it's just not enough. Slowly, everyday I am giving up, little by little and it feels like 2026 I will find the end of my road. 

I don't know when It will happen. I am not in a hurry. I will have a fail safe plan. It will be painless and pleasant. I will make sure that what little I am responsible for will be well taken care of. Slowly, little by little I will move out of the security of my Castle and leave it as my “I was here” place, abandoned and haunted by the voices of my parts that will celebrate their victory in ending the pain of it all while all those secrets get buried along with me. 

                            

                                        

This may be my last post here on this blog. Maybe I’ll document my final trip. I haven’t determined if I want to keep writing here. While I have enjoyed it, I had hoped to find some people to interact with but they have all gone now. I get it- who wants to just read about the darkness. Depression is dark. Depression is hard. For me, depression is terminal with no way out. It’s not really living, it’s just existing and it’s a miserable place to be. It just cycles round and round and doesn't get any better. I don't see a path to win against this horrible place that my mind keeps me trapped in. I'm not sure what's worse, the pain in my body or the one in my mind. Either way, I am so over the pain and never finding any answers for any of it.

I hope you all find a much better world out there than the one I live in. I don't wish it on anyone but maybe the Orange Taco Asshole who is causing so much harm to people and my beloved USA. 

Here’s to the end of pain. 🥂 As we used to say back in my day: Peace, Love and Bobby Sherman ❤️☮️

https://youtu.be/NLlOeGeVih4?si=MS0OPOIFJ-JVqgzC

May everyone find their own peace.

12.30.25

Darkness, Winter, and Giving Up

Darkness, Winter, and Giving Up

They say Winter is a time for hibernation, to rest and renew before the new growth and awakening of Spring. This year I seem to be finding just the darkness. It’s 12 days until Christmas and I am just not feeling very festive.

I totally missed Thanksgiving as I spent the entire week just trying to survive a horrible health episode. While I’m hoping Christmas week will not greet me in the same way, the joy in the season eludes me. That makes me sad.

How do you celebrate or find the Christmas spirit when everyday all we see is the cruelty of the US Government in action. Violence, threats, losing our rights and freedoms, racism and bigotry are all on display seemingly every hour these days. So much shit happens that it’s hard to keep up with it all. It’s heartbreaking. 

I’m fighting my own internal battles which gives me no respite from all the hate. It’s getting so hard to keep going. I dwell in my basement of darkness a lot. I feel like the last few weeks and in so many ways I have truly given up on myself. I have no expectations of anything getting any better than where I sit right here right now. Nothing I do seems to help or even matter anymore. I don’t see anyway to change that. 

I’ve been in a mode of if nothing changes, can I accept my life as it is? The answer hasn’t changed. It’s a big NO. I loathe my life and have great disdain for myself. The shame I carry will never change but instead just continue to torture me until I take my last breath. 

The difficulties of being isolated and so alone are catching up to me. It’s not realistic to think I can provide enough self regulation to help myself. I only have a couple hours a week where I actually connect with others. I know it’s not enough but I don’t have any other options so what am I to do? 

Retirement has not been kind to me. Everyday is getting harder. I’ve lost so much. I’m making choices that aren’t very healthy in trying to escape and find relief from my reality. Am I trying to hurt myself? 

I started this blog to write about my journey with cancer. Cancer unleashed my depression and anxiety and this became a place I could talk about my mental health struggles. It kind of feels like I’m now documenting the darkness, my slow death of Self. 

Alone, isolated and so cold in the dark. Will I be able to keep finding a light or some warmth? I have so many doubts. 

12.13.25

Overwhelmed with Doubt

 Life is still kicking my ass. I feel lost and stuck and confused, overwhelmed with doubt. I am questioning every single thing that goes thru my mind.

I have been going to therapy for 4 years now and have worked extremely hard. What have I gotten from it, what has changed for me in my life? I’ve been running that question over and over for the past couple weeks, trying to figure out what’s happening with me right now.

I don’t feel better about myself at all. In fact if I’m being honest, I feel like more of a failure and a loser as a person than I ever have in my lifetime. All the awareness, all the things that have been uncovered with peeling back my layers, has only made so many parts of me feel like the piece of shit I’ve always believed I was. 

At first I was hopeful that I might find ways to make changes, updates in my system that are so needed. I’ve found nothing like that at all. Instead it seems like I have to discover my own answers, my own ways to help myself. 

Don’t get me wrong, I like going to therapy where I find safety and support at times, but I am tired. Tired of hours of being interviewed but no input, no results, no real answers. Tired of being hurt by the actions and words from people who are supposed to be helping. I take full responsibility for where I am right now; I’m not looking to place blame. So why do I keep trying? Because where else do I find any answers? Where else do I find hope? If I knew of any thing else to do I would be trying it. 

I am doubting everything- every choice I make, every word I speak, every action I take. I’m so disengaged in caring about myself. I haven’t written more than a sentence or 2 in my journal for many weeks. The past few weeks I haven’t really been very involved with my therapy, with my healing, doing zero work between sessions, just having light conversations. I haven’t used my cards or had any parts conversations and all that makes me feel like I’m failing therapy but trust was lost and safety interrupted and I don’t know how to restore it. In some ways it feels like I’m giving up and I have no clue what to do about it. Do I even want to? 

Lost and stuck. I have very little confidence that I can be successful in making much change for myself. It feels like I’m just resigning myself to this is as good as it is going to get but that’s just not acceptable. Another internal system conflict which won’t resolve because there are no good choices, no acceptable to me options and I don’t know where I will find any. Instead the war in my head will just continue to torture me. 

The darkness of hopelessness. A place all too familiar for me living with depression. Oh how many times I have visited the basement, my dark place on the edge of the ledge. I wonder how many times I will find my way out. Is the day coming that I won’t have the ability to take those steps and rise once more? A scary thought. 

I get so frustrated with the cycles of depression. The toxic positivity of statements out there, the gold standards, the affirmations- all so incredibly annoying to me these days. I have tried so hard to believe some of it- that 1% of something is better than 0%, that all progress is worthwhile, it all counts and adds up- but today that all just seems like a big bunch of bullshit to me. 

To make progress, start to feel good, feel hopeful, and then my friend Lola, my depression, kicks me right back down, at times lower that I was before. And I have to start over and take those steps once again to even try to get back to where I was. How is this progress of any kind? How is this worthwhile or helpful to keep repeating the pattern? I never get anywhere but instead spend all my time and energy trying to get back to where I was. It’s disappointing and so discouraging for this to continue. That’s why I call it a cycle because it just keeps repeating. Round and round like a carousel that never shuts off, following the same path, over and over. I can’t trick my brain that keeps searching for answers. 

Will I ever feel good again? What does that even mean? What does that look like? What does that even feel like? The Squad is enjoying what they are saying is a pity party. Is it so wrong to just want to find some space in my life that isn’t dark, that isn’t painful. It’s not a mystery to me why Numb Helga, dissociation, is a friend. 

I’m tired. I’m feeling so raw and unsafe. How do I trust anyone if I can’t even trust myself currently. Internal conflicts with pressure and even more unsolicited accusations and attacks coming from the outside too. 

Exposed is another good word I’ve been feeling. Sensitive. Unprotected. Tender. I don’t see where I can go to hide, or how to get out of the storm. Options. I’m almost out of them. 

Where can I go

What can I do

Caring is optional

Hope seems so lost

I don’t know what’s next. 

Any clues? 

Still trying but the desire is fading. Alone. Isolated. Invisible. Exhausting. There’s nobody coming. Time for a nap.

11.19.25

I saw this picture a few years back and the word doubt just seemed to fit for me. Doubtful Mickey. 

Where Do I Feel Safe

Safety

Safety and feeling safe is something I struggle mightily with. I recently lost that safe feeling within my therapy and not sure how to find it again. Some parts of me are so incredibly sad and grieving, hoping to find a way but we are not really sure what that looks like or how it will feel. Many other parts feel so disengaged, not wanting to share or believe anything will ever change. It’s all seems to be about how much hurt am I willing to endure to keep trying. Trust is absent. 

I saw this series recently and wanted to share it here. This is what was written to go with these:

The ideas in this carousel come from clinicians and researchers who changed how we understand the human mind. Across different eras and approaches, they all arrived at a shared truth: people grow when they feel safe enough to be honest. Their work spans humanistic therapy, developmental psychology, trauma research, neuroscience, existential therapy, and relationship science. But together, they form the backbone of what modern therapy considers essential for healing: acceptance, steadiness, connection, curiosity, trust, and repair.

Feel free to click on the picture for a larger and clearer view

 Safety. Please let me find you again. It’s so hard without you. 

11.17.25

Life Has Been Kicking My Ass

 Struggling

Life has been kicking my ass lately in so many ways. Just when I think I’m catching a break, finding some space, some inner peace, it all goes away and here I am back in the darkness of hopelessness.

This week a young man in Dallas took his own life. He was a 24 year old second year player for the Dallas Cowboys. On Monday Night Football he recovered the ball in the end zone, scored his first NFL touchdown and 80,000 fans cheered wildly as he celebrated. Thursday evening after a police chase for a traffic violation, he took a gun and ended himself after calling his family to say goodbye.

This was extremely heartbreaking to read because I get it. I fully understand the dark places your depression mind can take you and the lies it can tell you. I’ve been living in that darkness with visits to the edge; I just haven’t taken the final leap, selected my final option.

To me, this young man’s tragic end to his life speaks volumes about the stigma of mental illness; how many suffer but few reach out to ask for help. Most people don’t get it because they haven’t experienced it themselves or just don’t see what’s going on inside someone with mental health struggles because outwardly it seems like all is great in their lives. The thing is, we get good at masking, pretending instead of sharing or reaching out for help. For many, the stigma of being seen as having mental health issues can be seem harder than reaching out. Instead it’s simply I’m fine. 

He seems to have had it all. He played football at a small college and he dreamed of being in the NFL. His hard work paid off when the Dallas Cowboys drafted him and he signed a contract for 7 million dollars. He was an active part of the team. He had a family and girlfriend that loved him and supported him. He had all his team mates and the entire Cowboys organization. He had plenty of money, seemingly living his dream, his best life. But today he is no longer alive. The stories and lies his brain told him overwhelmed him and he chose that final option. 

It’s hard for people to understand how the darkness of depression makes you unable to see or hear anything but the lies of the illness. It doesn’t matter how intelligent you are or if you’re a CEO, bus driver, or NFL player. You may intellectually understand but it still doesn’t matter. Sometimes being told how much we have to live for or how good our lives are just makes it worse. 

Sadly I don’t see the stigma of illness getting better in this current atmosphere of lack of care and concern for our fellow humans. It’s the same type of judgment many of us are subject to when we are given a health diagnosis like fibromyalgia or dysautonomia. I get not wanting that stigma, prepared to get the eye roll from the physicians, told it’s all in your head because they can’t seem to find anything else. So you give up and just stop asking, stop going to doctors. The darkness gets darker. See my recent post about chronic illness. 

Reaching out for mental health issues can be so difficult  and there is no guarantee that therapy will be helpful either. The mental health industry has it's good and bad. Unfortunately there are way to many "quick fixes and gold standards" that aren't actually helpful and can and does cause much harm to many. There are a ton of modalities out there and who knows what will actually help. Finding the right assistance for what you need can be very difficult; I am speaking from personal experience here.

This young mans death reminded me that for me and so many others who battle mental illness and depression that it doesn't matter how much money you have, how successful your career is, how much love and support you might have, it still might not be enough to let the light in when the darkness surrounds and overtakes you. 

Life has been kicking my ass lately. I feel so alone. I am so tired, so discouraged, and so very lost in my stories that I wonder if it's all slipping a way. For people with depression, life can be a daily battle simply to stay. 

24 years old. I hope he found the peace that all of us living in that darkness so desperately crave. RIP. 

11.8.25

Silence and The Changing of the Seasons

  Silence and The Changing of the Seasons

It’s been seven weeks 

It’s been seven weeks since I’ve written. This blog has been important to me, something that’s mine to utilize in anyway I’d like. To share, to work things through, to out myself and hold myself responsible, to brain dump, to just simply write words and stories floating around my brain. I write sometimes to just make sense of my reality that is sometimes so challenging it’s hard to believe. 

I have come here several times over the last weeks, but could never gather the words to actually write anything. It’s not that I’ve not had anything going on or a blank mind. Quite the contrary, my mind has been on overdrive and when it gets like that, with so many conversations going on, I tend to be scattered with my thoughts, not able to find a coherent complete story to write, instead I am wrapped up in many different things all happening at once. I refer to this as my hectic and chaotic brain mode. 

Outwardly I am silent. Even my private journals have snippets and sentences that are not related. A bunch of random thoughts that have to be processed and put together. This is where I've been and what I’ve been doing. 

Now to quote The Terminator…..I’m back……

The Changing of the Seasons

Growing up in a small town in the Midwest, Ohio, the changing of the seasons were easy to notice. Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter were always distinct in the scenery and the weather. Spring brought the renewal outdoors with the trees growing leaves, flowers started blooming, grass greening up. Summer with it full nature, warm weather and vacations. Fall with the beautiful colors of the changing trees preparing to shed it leaves for their yearly renewal, schools back in session, Halloween. Then comes Winter with the cold and snow, Thanksgiving and Christmas; a time for a sort of hibernation to rest and restore before starting the cycle of the seasons over. 

These are all part of what the changing of the seasons meant to me growing up. While I still think fondly of them , living in the desert Southwest for the past 44 years, I have come to know some different clues to know the changes are happening. We don’t have the typical change of landscape and weather like there is in the Midwest. 

Since it’s currently Fall I’m going start with Winter and end with Fall.

Winter is about cooler temperatures. I didn’t say cold because compared to so many other places, we don’t get that cold. Yes we do have days of freeze but very few and far between. In my 44 years of living here, I can count on two hands how many times it’s actually snowed here. Flowers bloom all winter and we joke that our winter shoes are adding socks to our flip flops. Thanksgiving and Christmas celebrations can be held outdoors with only a few patio heaters. If you grew up in a snow state, late Fall and Winter are truly glorious as far as weather. We have many “snowbirds” who come here to live and enjoy during these months. 

Our annual rainfall is only 7 inches total. Florida can get 7 inches in a day so our normal is very dry. I don’t see the green foliage but instead I just pay attention to our desert plants. The saguaro and many other cactus start to bloom in the Spring. If we have had enough rain, the Palo Verde trees and desert ground plants green up. Winter rye grass starts to die off and the Bermuda will be planted and begin to take over and green up. Yes we have different grass if you want to have a green lawn all year! 

Summer brings the extreme heat, warms up the swimming pool, and reminds us how wonderful air conditioning is as we would have a difficult time surviving the summer without that cool relief. I do enjoy being in my pool outside but otherwise most of us seek out and stick to the cool places. For me I consider Summer to be official when I turn on my tap and the cold and hot are close to the same temperature, when I can enter my pool and my body doesn’t have a reaction as it feels like a nice warm bath. Summer also brings what we call the monsoons, which consist of dust storms called haboobs with wind and often rain. 

Fall is here now. I can feel the coolness in the air

Fall is here now- finally!. While there isn’t colorful changing leaves that drop from the trees, there are other clues that have become part of what I notice changing. My tap and hose water is back to being cold. I sit outside in the mornings and evenings and can feel coolness in the air, something that has eluded me for many months. 70 degree weather hadn’t been seen since early Spring. The last few days my AC did not turn on once. My cats are able to enjoy my front door being open. I do welcome the changes but also am grieving the end of my pool season as it is such a resource and support for my own well being; just something I’ll have figure out how to replace. My cats feel it too, enjoying the cool down, being playful and frisky, not worrying about the stifling heat any longer. We all can enjoy this welcome change that allows us more freedom being outside. 

If you’ve been reading or have read any of my other recent posts, you know I have been struggling with my mental health, with my internal system having a huge conflict and split. I have been working everyday to figure this out, to work thru and listen to my parts to find a way to move forward. 

I’m happy to say that there has been a shift. I’ve been able to reunite my system and create a little more internal peace, to be able to make movement. With that has come a bit more calm, feeling a bit more patience, more understanding and kindness towards myself and my parts. I haven’t been alone on this journey. So grateful for the steady support of my therapist. 

Within all that comes some glimmers and hope. I’ll take it. It’s been a very long time. I still have lots of work but I’ve never been afraid of that. That tells me I still haven’t given up.

No Kings Day yesterday was so inspiring to see so many millions worldwide to come together to speak out against, fascism, racism, bigotry, discrimination and hate. And that also gives me hope. I’ll take all I can get!

10.19. 25

Chronic Illness

Chronic Illness

This month was my 4 year anniversary of my journey with breast cancer. I started this blog talking about my cancer experience. Feel free to check out my posts from 2021 where I have shared not only about my cancer but how much it affected me and was the start of my mental health struggles. The great thing about having a blog is it’s like my own personal history book that I can look back to and see what happened then, what’s changed, and what’s continued. I have not really struggled with memories of my cancer and everything associated but this year seems different. 

I started working a real job at 15 and have only ever missed a handful of work days until the last 4 years. As a self employed person for 25 of those years, most weeks I worked 60 plus hours a week, on call 24/7/365 for many years. I was always considered very dependable and a good hard worker, willing to do whatever was needed to help. 

Recently in conversation it was said to me how I have chronic illnesses that really affect my life. It caused me to stop and take pause as I never thought of myself in that way. Not that it isn’t true now, but for me having illness period let alone chronic illnesses is new and sadly now my reality. I never really considered how people who have met me in the last 4 years perceive me. But they’ve not seen me any other way so of course they can only go on what they know. It kind of shocked me and makes me sad at the same time.

It’s hard to adjust to my new reality. Yes, it’s been 4 years since things started for me, but to think so much has happened that it’s now chronic is challenging and frustrating. What makes illness chronic is the lack of a way to make changes or improvements to the illness. In other words, western medicine has no answers, so you’re stuck with whatever it is because they have nothing to offer you. 

Some things like osteoarthritis can be chronic but it can also just be a disorder that can be helped through joint replacements, physical therapy, medication, and more. But it can also become chronic if none of those things work for you. When you have something there’s no answers for like I do, I’m now considered and labeled chronic. 

I know how that label makes me feel but I also know how that label affects others judgement of me. I have seen so many health care providers roll their eyes at patients when issues like fibromyalgia and other immune system or umbrella term diagnoses like autonomic nervous system disorders, are discovered in their history. It’s like you aren’t taken seriously anymore because of your illness, like you’re some kind of attention seeking hypochondriac.

Years ago many thought these things were all just bullshit diagnosis in order to give a name to things that medicine couldn’t figure out. Thankfully much has changed in testing and knowledge of all these “chronic” type disorders and we now know there really are reasons for all those symptoms. 

Lately the narrative seems to try to say all illness and pain is your head and therapy can cure just about anything. I don’t buy that totally but that’s a subject for another blog post as there’s much I’d like to say about it. Stay tuned as it will be upcoming!

Here I am, retired but struggling with chronic illness, physical and mental. I’m not always sure how to navigate it, especially alone, as it is fairly new in my life. Sixty two years with no issues turned into 4 years of health struggles. 

Breast cancer was just the start of it all for me. Luckily I can say I am cancer free but the other stuff isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t know, deal with it, get over it, move on seems to be the messages I get each time a provider tells me they have no answers, dismiss me and tell me to go see someone else. Eventually I ran out of places to go and I do just deal with it because I don’t have any other options or hope for any other way. 

For me, these health struggles suck but it truly is my new reality. Chronic illnesses. I’m told non acceptance of things keep you suffering. I’m not sure about that as for me it feels more like giving up and giving in. 

8.30.25

The Great Divide

Fractured 

Depression sucks…

My depression, Lola, is still so very present. She’s foggy and heavy and currently unrelenting. Underneath feels different this time. My system feels in such disarray with cohorts and clans sparring over actions and reactions. 

Fractured. Such a great word. One that I would’ve never thought would apply to me but it’s a truly perfect description of what’s happening in my internal system not in the sense of being broken like a bone, but being fragmented, where many of my parts are at odds with each other. 

How does one’s system fracture? For me it’s about self betrayal and going against your own morals, values and beliefs. I’ve been ignoring the first serious instance of this for myself for 48 years and now it has happened again, in a bit of a different way but just as serious of an issue. 

I have no idea how to begin to repair this fracture from the past or present. I’m frozen. No options I find feel right so I just go to my modus operandi and ignore and avoid. I recognize it’s not the best strategy but as I always say, I have to work with and use what I got. 

Failing my Self in so many ways

It seems as though I have abandoned myself, failing my Self in so many ways. At some point I assumed it would catch up to me. Most days I look around and see I am within the darkness, with disappointment, defeat, deficiency and futility.  It’s hard to breathe, so we just stay still and take it, allow it all to continue to hurt, to destroy. 

Spending time with a person you loath, that you don’t like or respect, that you believe is honestly a horrible person, wears on you. Imagine that person is your own self. That’s where I’m at. I’m not living. I’m just existing and some days are excruciatingly challenging to get through. 

I’m told I have all I need inside yet don’t seem to find answers there. While I know what I don’t need, I have no idea what I do need, what might actually help me, at least help me become unfrozen, to make some type of movement towards something different. Those are two entirely different things. 

Right now I'm so lost, aimlessly wandering, searching for something that might not exist at all because I don’t really have a clue what I’m looking for.  This so called “strong and independent” woman is just a shell of what used to be there.

But is it really? Maybe I’ve always been this way but I just never noticed because I had so much else to distract and fill my time. Now with it all absent, all stripped away, all gone away, is what I find here now my true reality that I have simply ignored and avoided all these years? More things to ponder. 

Glimmers are hard to come by

Hope is fleeting. Glimmers, although not totally absent, are hard to come by. The heaviness of my reality can be crushing but is that the truth?? Or, is the absence of acceptance what’s genuinely creating the heaviness??

Acceptance often feels like abandonment and giving up on myself, my Self. That if I accept what might be true, it will end me. In some way I do believe this latest fracture happened because I think I must accept something that I absolutely do not believe in. 

Revolt. Rebellion. Mutiny. I so badly crave inner peace but the conflict currently is large. No clue what, where, when, why, how to raise the white flags, to surrender the fight, to bring myself, my Self back together. Fearful.

I haven’t found answers or even anything that might be helpful. I’m still trying but it’s hard. We’re not afraid of hard but giving up scares the shit right out of me. Self torture is slow and painful and sadly recognizable.

Are there any answers for me? No clue. 

8.19.25

 

Stuck in the Muck

Cycles of Depression

 My good friend Lola, my depression has been kicking my ass the past few days. She’s such a good thief and just as good a liar. While I might be cognizant of her ways, she still knows how to take me right out and put me back down, down in to the basement.

One thing I do appreciate about the field of medicine is how so many keep curious about how we humans work and new ways to help us heal. In my lifetime I have seen so many advancements but yet there is still so much unknown. The brain is one of those mysteries that continues to be unraveled in so many new ways. 

Depression is one of the many things that keeps being studied and for someone who lives with it I am always on the look out for new findings and knowledge. Neuroplasticity, the ability to regenerate and change neural pathways, was one of the biggest findings in recent times. Now I see more and more articles and research finally recognizing that depression isn’t always a chemical imbalance in the brain. 

Up until recently, it was widely accepted that depression had to do with low serotonin levels in the brained thus the reason for the development of anti-depressants. Thankfully medical researchers didn’t just accept that fact and continued to question the findings ruled by that only around 60% of people found any kind of relief while taking these meds.

What is now being said is depression doesn’t universally show up as low serotonin in the brain. They have now identified sub types which can help predict what treatments may be helpful. They  are also talking about the roles of our genetics and our gut microbiome and brain connection, recognizing that 90% of our serotonin is found in our gut. 

Alternative treatments including different psychedelics, deep brain stimulation, and trans cranial magnetic stimulation(TMS), in addition to correcting our gut microbiome, are just a few of the things they are looking into, trying to create a more personalized treatment for each individual person. 

https://cpdonline.co.uk/knowledge-base/mental-health/depression-research/

All these things can help keep me hopeful, to know that maybe one day Lola can give up her lying, cheating ways and find a different place in my life that’s not so dark, not so sticky, not so heavy and doesn’t keep me stuck in these cycles, these loops of hopelessness, suffering and despair.

Stuck in the muck is such a good way to describe what happens. I sometimes call her my messy brain as she can make it hard to see clearly, to know what to do, to keep my head above and just keep breathing. She makes me lose trust in my Self and question everything I am doing. When you don’t really have anyone you trust for help with the fog and doubt, it’s so hard to keep going, to know you will make it back up those steps without falling. 

The cycles of my depression are such a challenge. Often so unpredictable, like a tornado in my brain, she can wipe out all those small glimmers that may be sustaining me and kick my ass right down those steps, back to the basement, where darkness lingers. The cost of getting out is getting steep.

I can only do my best everyday and as I have mentioned many times previously, that isn’t always good enough anymore. And so it goes, up and down and all around. Kicks me when I’m up and harder when I’m down. I ride and ride and some days I just want to get off but that’s just another battle with the rest of the Squad. I can only use what I got. 

 

How much more hurt can a person endure before OD’ing on life’s torture?

Be safe out there. 

8.13.25