I grew up in an evangelical Christian home. Although Catholics tend to be the primary ones who adhere to the idea of giving something up for Lent, my family also chose to follow this tradition. Every year, for the 40 days leading up to Easter, each member of my family would give something up. Honestly, I don’t remember what I gave up most years, but one year does stand out in my mind. I gave up cookies for Lent. I figured it would be fine because there are plenty of other desserts in the world. Here’s the thing, though. It seems that my family decided cookies would be the only dessert in the house (not intentionally). We didn’t have cake, candy, candy bars, brownies, or anything else you can think of. Nope, we had cookies. I knew what I was doing when I made my choice. The problem was that my choice ultimately proved to be much more difficult to follow through on as the 40 days went on. I chose not to eat cookies, but I ended up not being able to have dessert at all. Sometimes we make really great decisions, and then we face consequences that just suck…that seem unfair…that seem much worse than what the intention was.

Life has felt difficult lately. I continually try to sit with the younger versions of me, especially when they feel triggered or overwhelmed. That hasn’t been easy. I have been trying to juggle paperwork and potential long-term plans when I feel 100% exhausted. I am on disability, and I am currently being reviewed. It is stressful and time-consuming. I am considering going back to school for a new, different career path, but I am terrified that I don’t have what it takes. It’s not a great excuse, but I had electroconvulsive therapy several years ago and haven’t been able to think or process the way I used to since. And the stupid daily stressors like not feeling well, health issues, a full schedule, loud and arguing neighbors that keep me up for HOURS in the middle of the night, don’t help. Add to that the violation I felt a couple of weeks ago when my son’s and my bikes were stolen from our porch. I was silently mourning the loss of my sense of safety as well as the loss of the one thing I owned of my brother’s, and I was trying to hold space for my son, who was also very upset. I have been struggling to know how to feel about broken relationships among people I love. I have struggled with thoughts of self-harm (and worse) that don’t make sense to me. And maybe that last thing is only true because I am on a medication that comes with a hefty black box warning. It’s helping my GI problems, though. I promised I’d call my psychiatrist, but is it really that bad? This is all in my head, right?

But wait, there’s more. I have been proud of myself despite all of this. Why? Because I am still functioning. I am going to work, making progress in therapy, keeping my house somewhat clean, and having a positive impact on kids’ lives through the soccer league I volunteer in (in the Fall). I read my trauma narrative. I identified some things that I really needed to mourn. I started writing bylaws for myself, which, by the way, opened up a whole can of worms that I have been unable to even think about discussing. It’s been a bit overwhelming to figure out how to rewire my entire brain and natural inclinations when I don’t even know who I am (And, oh, by the way, I heard a poem that so disgustingly and beautifully articulated all of this stuff that came up; I wish the world could listen to it. I wish the world could, for one second, feel the pain and rage, grief and relief, fear and desperation that I felt listening to it – and that I know the author felt. I listened to the author’s voice crack and strain as tears steadily streamed down my cheeks, and I gasped for air the first time I heard it).

While all of those things have been occurring, while I have been an active participant in my life, something came up in therapy that my therapist just can’t help me with. It’s actually the first time I have believed her when she said it. She has told me before that she didn’t have the skillset or expertise to help with various things, and I honestly just thought she wasn’t trusting the process, as she was asking me to do. But this time? I know she’s right. I need someone who really gets this because otherwise I will be a fish out of water, and trust me when I say I already feel like I have been suffocating because of all the other stuff going on around me. The problem is that I feel as though I am making a decision with a terrible trade-off. I’m giving up cookies, but I somehow gave up the whole freaking dessert menu.

No one knows me like she does. No one knows how hard this work and journey have been like she does. No one knows how much work or what work still needs to be done like she does. I have never met anyone with the patience, kindness, intuition, and problem-solving (at least in a therapy setting) like she has. Yes, someone else has the expertise I need, but not many people seem capable of understanding me as well (I have a lot of respect for Dr. C. for many reasons, but one of those reasons is because she 1. seemed to truly understand me from the beginning and 2. never seemed fooled by me. There are plenty of people out there who, time and time again, have misunderstood me or not taken the time to understand me beyond what I intentionally represent. I come with a lot of baggage that I haven’t yet dealt with, and I am not sure I believe someone else can pick that up in a few sessions to help. There’s more history and understanding that comes from sitting across from someone for years than can be picked up on in a computer screen (there are no experts in this field around me) a time or two a month (they cost a lot of money and don’t take insurance). That’s a lot of dessert to give up.

One time in high school, I had to miss an important cross-country meet to attend a family conference. The speaker was talking about attitudes. I had a bad attitude about going, which is probably why I remember so well what he said: “When someone accuses you of having a bad attitude, you automatically have a bad attitude. Why? Because if you argue, you have a bad attitude. And if you don’t argue or you stay silent, you are, in essence, agreeing that you have a bad attitude.” That has stuck with me for years. Now, if I feel I am caught in one of those situations (whether it involves attitude or not), I remain silent. I become overwhelmed. I shut down my needs. I assume I will be misunderstood. I feel shame. I call myself stupid for having opposing thoughts or emotions. I belittle myself for feeling sad, upset, or angry. I tell myself I am too much. I am a lot. I always have been.

So, if you see me or talk to me anytime soon, know that I am REALLY going through the ringer. I am feeling a range of emotions due to various situations. I am tired and depressed. I am stressed about my job and my future. I am struggling to communicate my needs and wants. I am isolating myself and neglecting my needs one minute, and the next I am making sure everyone else has what they need, including access to my time and energy. And on top of that, I am trying to navigate a situation that I don’t know how to respond to. It feels a lot bigger and worse than I imagined, and I feel a lot more alone than I thought I would.