I wish I could scribble in this space, a big wad of crossing lines of different thicknesses, thorny with barbs, wire maybe, all tangled up.
and the non linear cycles they create.
Parenting is hard when it is easy. We have the most wonderful spirited, smart, sensitive child.
And those very things also predispose to anxiety, and holy fuck
hers and mine tango
it sucks beyond measure.
My panic disorder is finally ordered thanks to medications and EFT, TFT, EMDR and WTF.
But my child shares my triggers, has her own, and her anxiety triggers mine.
So off we go, into some form of hell.
A new therapist for her, interview on the 15th of April.
A new therapist for me, April 9th.
Empathy and compassion
exhaustion and blues
my adrenal glands probably look like craisins.
Got some great advice I am trying to apply: observe not absorb.
but it is like a tuning fork is struck and we share a harmonic frequency,
and the ground starts to shake, and the skies open, and I feel lost in it, to it.
so here we are. thriving so much of the time, but the time when it's hard is like an eclipse when the ancients thought the world was ending even if the harvest had been mighty.
I had a shitty shitty bad ranting day. I hate it when I do that. I hate me when I do that. I feel like the worst mom in the world. When I get like this. All of the bad things in my life swirl and swarm me, they buzz in my brain and I can't seem to shake them. I should write again, but it feels like an indulgence. I heart you mekate.
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