When a family member is alive yet dead…

Every once and awhile I begin to think about my sister and our relationship, or rather lack thereof. We were not close growing up at all. Every chance imaginable publicly humiliate me she ran with, i.e: making fun of me countless times at pools for my in-betweenie belly button, removing the socks I put in my training bra at slumber parties, and mocking pretty much anything that was possible about my innate awkwardness. She will still to this day recount the story of how I got to shave my legs at 10 years of age when she had to wait until 14… that I supposedly manipulated mom into letting me since I cried telling her that I felt like a hairy monster. I would lay on my mom’s bed for hours and we would talk and cuddle. In fact when I was 4 years old I was laying with her when I started reading my first book (Dr. Suess’s “Put me in the zoo”). I remember clear as day her telling me “things were great (with mom) until you came around!”. Since my mom and I always have had such an incredibly close relationship this obviously is an elephant in the room never addressed or discussed in our 30 year long dysfunctional relationship. We had a mutual best friend who was right in the middle of our age gap (my sister is 4 years older than I) and she despised that. I cannot even count the number of times when she forcibly would push me out of her room and scream at me. Sibling rivalry to the extreme.

I was a bridesmaid at her wedding and after she was married we seemed to get along so much better, but this was temporary. I got older and veered away from what they refer to as “the Truth”. She was my matron of honor and when I became a mother too I still rarely saw her or was a part of her children’s lives anymore. She is still very involved in the religion that I more or less want no part of. Hereby making me “bad association” even though I was never kicked out or ever disassociated myself publicly renouncing it. Now that I have become involved with someone from my past who was a big part of my sister and brother in laws life (we both were there the night they got engaged even) it has brought back all these negative memories and feelings. I buried this all away deciding that if she views me as dead to her than I will view her that way as well; however these old fossils have excavated themselves. I want so much to air everything out in the hopes of building a new foundation and she will not allow me even acquiesce the thought.

Every time I reach out to her I get denied and I become exceedingly more bitter. The culmination in my shutting my heart off was this story: One time when I was still only separated from my husband our son became violently ill throwing up nonstop and I was petrified at the thought of dehydration as he kept vomiting when there was nothing in this stomach. I was driving him to the hospital’s urgent care frantic and urgently trying to get ahold of my now ex husband, my mom, my dad, my best friend, and then in a last ditch effort I decided to call her. My brother in law answered the phone hearing me in hysterics and said he would have her call me once she was done blow drying her hair. I could barely see the road as I was crying so hard hyperventilating fearful of my sons life and the fact that I would be alone yet again for another ER trip. She calls me back and I can barely talk but I beg her to meet me there for moral support… her reply was callous and cold-blooded. Apparently she had organized a baby or wedding shower for someone in their congregation and was running late since it was in Bradenton so she wouldn’t have time. Now Bradenton is about a hour north of them but halfway between where she lives in Venice and I do in Sarasota- She would be passing right by me on the road and refused to meet me there. I plead one more time (still sobbing) to please just stop by for 10 minutes and give me a hug while Lincoln and I wait to be seen in the waiting room. Did this happen? No. That was the day I realized how detached she was to not care or have compassion in the tiniest shred.

The rift between us seems bigger than the Grand Canyon and I don’t know how to traverse it. Sometimes I wonder if the damage can ever can be repaired, and it breaks my heart into smithereens just thinking about it.

This is the best piece of advice to remember…. !

Happy (Divorce) Anniversary to me!

Yesterday would have been my 8th wedding anniversary….

In the past I have dreaded this day and would feel ill just thinking about it’s upcoming presence. As much as I have distanced myself emotionally unfortunately those demons of past pain would come back to haunt me annually. I would think about how I knew that day I didn’t want to marry him, but I still put on a fake smile and played the part of the glowing bride. I remember distinctly how people thought I was crying during my vows but actually I was shaking saying the words that I knew were not true in my heart.

It was a beautiful day filled with the brightest blue sky and an invigorating slight chill to the air with the upcoming season change. I had fallen in love with the Ringling museum grounds when I was a preteen so I always knew if I were to be married in Florida that it would be there. After the ceremony having pictures taken of me on the supposedly happiest day of my life was definitely a memory I’ll never forget. Standing in front of the Ca’ d’Zan doing family photos my father in law hugged me and said “Well you just made the most important decision for the rest of your life”- I wanted to puke. The reality set in. The rest of my life?! Oh God what had I done….

Being a photographer I had taken the cherished photos and of course created a scrapbook to commemorate that day. Packing that in a box when I left him was a formidable torturous task to say the least. I have only looked at it twice since then (I decided to keep it so that one day our son can look at it and know that Mommy and Daddy did love each other at one time) but every time I would a wave of deep crushing sadness hit me. Why did this all have to happen?
Oh right because he hit me. Several times. The first time when I was pregnant. However his only confession is to punching me once on my leg and claiming it didn’t count since he didn’t hit my face…

Originally I felt I had no choice other than to marry him and I now had no other choice than to divorce him. I lived in-between a rock and a hard place far too long. So yes instead of it being 8 years married it’ll be 3 years divorced for me (Does Hallmark make a card for that anniversary yet?)- Mazel Tov!!

Thankfully I turned yesterday into an amazing day where I selected my new college to transfer into and was so excited I barely thought about the ex anniversary. Going to college is HUGE for me as every single A+ I get dispels a little more of the phrase that he loved to use about how “useless and stupid“ I am with my “4th grade education” ( I graduated via home-school @15).
I realize of course that I allowed and gave him the ability to make that false statement true to me. I agreed with him and thus these feelings that I was not and never would be good enough became part of my psyche.

Retrospect is such a priceless tool. You have to go through pain in order to find it but once found it is an incomparable, invaluable, and treasured source of strength. I cannot wait for the day after I earn my degrees that I can work with abused women and show them that they too can dig deep into their souls and reclaim everything that was taken. Sharing my story helps me heal a little bit more every time and helps me retain self-respect, self-love, self-worth, dignity, and confidence. Anything else on this earth is not as valuable!

Past life: The worst thing I had ever done…

Recently I got back in touch with an old friend that I haven’t seen in about 10+ years and it brought back a lifetime+ of memories. I had first met “G” sometime back around 1999 shortly before my sisters wedding. I was 14 years old at the time (Holy cow 16 years ago!) SO shy that talking to the opposite sex was painfully awkward for me. He was a few years older than I and was so kind to me. The feeling when he asked me to dance barely uttering the words “Sure!” without fainting always stayed with me. Yes this silly little girl fell in love for the first time that night. The only problem was the fact that I could barely say “Hi!” and “Bye!” to him. At the end of a group outing we’d all shake hands or hug and I would dread the moment he came to me petrified that I would spontaneously combust or something! Shortly after I went to another friends wedding and met a girl (let’s call her “A”) that was 3 years younger but already light years ahead of me in confidence. I professed my love for “G” to her and she knew him too so we excitedly talked that evening and many evenings to follow. Fast forward to a party she threw for all of us wholesome kids in the religion who were not allowed to associate with anyone that was not part of our religion *cult*. We danced and ended the night playing an outside game of hide and go seek in the dark (which was pretty much the closest thing to a romantic moment possibly conceivable for us) so of course I was looking desperately wanting/wishing we would hide together and maybe I would have the first kiss of my life with him. Nope.
Didn’t happen that way. Instead “A” had that coveted moment I longed so desperately for. Yeah me “friend” who on our first night of meeting knew how I felt about him and claimed to want to help me. I was sick. What happened next was even more sickening as they became a couple and then every other witness party they would keep progressively hooking up and got serious with each other even though she was not even as old as I was when I first met him! That sting of betrayal never went away. They dated for what seemed like an eternity and since we were all friends I had to endure watching them cuddling, kissing, and hearing all about Everything (and I mean Everything) they were doing. Eventually they broke up and then she started hooking up with all his friends (ending up with his brother might I add) and he started dating around the little tiny pool we had of potential mates. I was old enough now after having fallen for someone else when I was 18 and had my first kiss with him that my shyness had dissipated somewhat but still reared its ugly anxiety filled head more often then not.

Eventually the time came around when all of the sudden he wanted to hang out with me! Called and invited me to go to the movies with him! I was leaving my job at the mall halfway home and slammed on the brakes to turn around and go back! Ohmygod here it was- my chance! I don’t even remember what movie we saw (action something or other?) because all I could think about was if/when he would hold my hand or potentially kiss me. My heart and stomach nearly jumped out of my body when he finally did. This was it. This was what I had been wanting for 5+ years.

Unfortunately the elation I felt pretty much came to a screeching halt not too long after that when the couple times we saw each other fizzled into nothing. He didn’t want to date me- claimed he was still not over “A”. Heartbreak central. Even though I was perfect on paper so to speak I was not enough for him. Somehow we all managed to stay friends, but what other choice did we have really since we weren’t allowed to have friends outside of the religion?
Fast forward to the culmination of this story- His brother and this girl “A” getting married. I had just dumped my 1st kiss boyfriend I had been with off and on for years and my heart was broken (I’ll get into that story another time) and now I was wedding dress shopping, planning, and then going to this girls bridal shower. This particular night I was an emotional disaster as I had just broken up with who I thought I was going to marry after catching him cheating, so I get there and start drinking immediately. There was a giant table of assorted alcoholic beverages and I downed as many as I could in as short amount of time as I could. Seeing her hold up the Victoria’s Secret expensive nightgown I bought her was too much.
I drank even more. By the time the shower was over I was beyond incapacitated so I asked my best friend “M” (her sister) to take my car keys because I couldn’t drive. We all drove over to their house to look at the presents more and have even more drinks. At this point after topping things off with tons of champagne I could barely see since everything was spinning. They all said we’re going to a night club now and scurried about getting changed and figuring out carpooling. At that moment I asked my friend where my keys were as I wasn’t sure if we would be in the same car, so she pointed at the kitchen table and I meandered my way there. Searching through her huge bag I find my keys and then suddenly think of the fact that I would need $5 for cover charge at the club, so I looked to see if she had a 5 spot but saw a huge wad of 20 dollar bills. I didn’t think in that moment I just grabbed one, put it in my pocket then turned around to walk and find everyone when she and her sister came raging out screaming at me. Pointing their fingers in my face, calling me names, and yelling accusations of other thefts that never happened. I immediately had handed it to her sobbing and trying to explain that I didn’t even realize what I was doing obviously I would have just asked her! I couldn’t even see straight everything felt in 3D. Well neither wanted to hear anything just kept screaming in my face until they stomped off and I stumbled my way into the car I was riding in. Of course the windows were all put down so that everyone could hear every nasty tidbit. I don’t even remember the rest of the night…. It’s a blur and that is truly frightening.

We got to the club and I stayed until everyone was ready to leave and was put in a car with people I didn’t even know. They wouldn’t even take me to my car only to their house where there were about 4 other guys there that I’d never met. I shudder to think what could have easily happened. That next morning I finally got to my car and drove home hysterically crying trying to call and message her repeatedly- no answer. So I decided to email her saying how incredibly sorry I was that I NEVER ever would have done that … I wasn’t thinking… I had never drank that much in my life and honestly it felt like I was somehow not there looking down at myself when it happened like I was watching someone else. Reason could easily lead someone to realize that if I were indeed intending to steal from her then why wouldn’t I have taken 3, 4, or 5 bills out of the thick wad? I instantly dove in to the worst depression I had felt in a long time and cried the entire day. Eventually she came over because apparently part of what I said in the email scared her that I might try to harm myself (I might have felt like I wanted to die but never would have done that obviously) she hugged me and just said that she couldn’t be friends with me right now. I was crushed. A crushed up 20 dollar bill crushed our 6 year long friendship.

Years later people still only know the fallacious version that they told absolutely everyone about. Slandered me to anyone that would listen and basically in the religion gossip was the most favorite pastime next to their ministry. I was reprimanded for drinking and stealing by the body of elders and received a 1st degree private reprimand (there were 3 levels- private and public reproof then excommunication) and her family was furious that I was not punished more severely. That was a defining moment when I clearly saw how unchristian this christian religion was. Needless to say I drifted away from everything and anyone involved in that whole scenario, and then not too long later met my now ex-husband. We dated briefly, he impregnated me, and we planned to get married ASAP. It’s funny to me still how he knew that I was a virgin with no sexual experience or education and yet didn’t wear a condom- not even once. He said 2 months into it when I had the first pregnancy scare (yes there were 2!) that he would be disappointed if we weren’t because he wouldn’t have an excuse to marry me so soon then….
Anyways I had started going back to the meetings sporadically since my parents were still devout and I lived at home with them. SO the guilt got to me and I told on myself that not only had I indeed committed the sin of premarital sex but I was pregnant. This time I received the 2nd degree of punishment as these were the only offenses I had ever done in my 22 years of life. My former best friend “M” had come back into my life shortly before this saying that she wanted to forgive and forget everything and I was so elated. We talked for hours on the phone like kids again and of course I excitedly told her my big news! She promised not to tell anyone but sure enough she and her family who secretly had this vendetta against me told the entire congregation. I had an old woman who called me her granddaughter come up to me and say “I heard you’re pregnant!!”. Here not only did I now publicly get shamed again but they also went to the elders who decided my punishment demanding that I be excommunicated (or disfellowshipped as they call it). I couldn’t believe it. I fell for the guise that she wanted us to be close again finally after several failed attempts when we tried but it was not sincere. I had invited her to my wedding and still remember her glaring at my ring commenting that it was “So big it would make my tiny hand fall off”.

The following year I did have a son since the pregnancy I had at that time turned into a miscarriage the week before the wedding. My beautiful sweet Lincoln was maybe 2 or 3 days old when she came over to my house to meet him. Holding him in her arms she says to me “I can’t believe you aren’t going to raise Lincoln to be a witness–Do you want him to die at Armageddon??”! I wanted to rip my precious baby from her arms and slap her across the face. My newborn angel is automatically going to be deemed wicked by God and killed because I am choosing to let him decide for himself if/what religion he wants in his life….?!?

That was it. That was the moment I knew I would never ever want to see her again nor be a part of this unscrupulous brainwashing. It was like a switch flipped in my head and suddenly the thought of ever being an active member made me want to vomit. My whole family is still and I try to be as respectful as I can, but sometimes I cannot control my disdain. I’ll find my way back to God if he does exist on my own terms thank you very much Bible thumpers.
In the meantime I am going to just continue living my life trying my best to always do my best. I know I have a good heart and that I nor my son is wicked. I refuse to be bullied by scare tactics like that to make me conform and follow their instructions. Sorry but I’m not sorry Because I know myself now a hell of a lot more than I ever did back then.

Would my life would have been easier had I stayed in that protective little bubble? Most likely yes.
Was this all a series of unfortunate events? Probably. Perhaps though my destiny was up in the stars but previously my nose was tucked safely in a bible so I had no chance to see it. I have wings that need to soar and I know that I cannot be caged ever again. Losing my best friend and losing my religion was godawful and yet a mere drop in the bucket of traumatic things I have went through. C.S. Lewis said “God allows us to experience the low points of life in order to teach us lessons that we could learn in no other way.” So ultimately nothing matters as I would not trade the person I am today to erase all my former heartbreak. No. Not even for the world.

I say build your own! Color outside of the lines and feel Free to be you!

The frustration of One-Way streets

Lately I’ve been thinking… I am so caught up in my caregiver role being mother of a special needs child and a Cancerian woman whose main characteristics are just that of being a nurturer; However I rarely get care in return anywhere near the level of care that I willingly bend over backwards give with no regard. For instance I never got to celebrate 23 of my 30 birthdays with my crazed upbringing, so I assumed that once I did have my first one that something really special would be done… a surprise… a meaningful present and card… maybe even a flower? What did I get for my very first birthday….? Taken to an outlet mall and told to “go buy stuff”. And of course when I found something I wanted he balked at letting me get it. He did but would always reference how I had said I just wanted to browse the watch store but obviously intended to leave with one. Good grief! It never got any better from there either. My first Christmas that year I dropped several hints that I wanted a necklace- nothing crazy fancy but I have always loved hearts being the big softy heart I am so I slipped it out how much I would love a heart shaped necklace that maybe had a little bitty diamond in the middle. He semi tortured me about it shopping together and having me look at necklaces and him complain that they were stupid and too expensive. Then he did end up finding one (that I really didn’t like actually- the first thing I sold when I left him) and didn’t even give it to me until late Christmas morning. So he got to watch me pretend to like the crap present he got me and hide my disappointment. Nice huh?

I would never choose to change my disposition however it sometimes upsets me when I realize that so many others in the world and my little world do not share my same sentimentality and huge heart. Not to martyr myself by any means but it saddens me on occasion. I choose to not dwell on any negativity but we are only human after all. We all have our days when something triggers a past heartbreak and tears us down. We then choose option #1- Let it ruin our day, week, possibly month OR #2- Acknowledge it. Allow yourself to ruminate in it if you need to for a few minutes. Then release it. Write it out, talk to a trusted friend or counselor, go to the beach or whatever natural beauty inspires you and connect with nature which reminds us that we are all made of “Star stuff” as Carl Sagan wrote. So the question is now: a Mountain or a Molehill- which do you desire this moment to be? Just let go. Let go of the pain and focus on any silver lining possible until you truly make peace with yourself. A quote by Helen Keller I will end with is:

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”

Can they invent a pill for Autism Mamas to become stronger?

It is now 4 am.… Insomnia has won it’s battle against me once again.
This week I have not slept barely any hours more at night than a newborn baby.

I will be taking my son to several specialist appointments this week trying my best to advocate for his well-being. Unfortunately this is a 1 woman job here.
I have not an ounce of support from family to help with these absolute hell-ish appointments. The goal is getting to the bottom of these potentially attributing factors to his sensory issues. Perhaps it is simply a metal toxicity buildup from those aforementioned shots that I immensely feel affected his sweet yet sadly delayed neurological delays. I found out from a grueling comprehensive blood-work and stool sample tests that he is allergic to so much it is insanely overwhelming.

It does honestly break my heart at times seeing him function on such a lower functioning level. The veil is dropped right now as I am so raw.

He is 6 years old and is so far off from crucial things like even an unprompted sentence of more then 4 words (“I want crackers please.” is his longest).
He puts his shoes on and grabs my flip flops to put on my feet and says
“Ok car!” meaning in his adorable yet mysterious mind that he wants to go somewhere. That warms my heart. I want So so very badly to hear his thoughts that I sob hysterically sometimes wishing that we had a verbally communicating relationship where I could actually hear his sweet voice all the time- instead of his small tantrums when he gets frustrated that he cannot communicate his needs. He has gotten very good at non-verbally communicating these by grabbing my hands and saying one or two words to express his pressing needs. However I realized that if I continue to abide by this that I will essentially continue to be raising a 2 year old son…

This again is what most Autism parents Do not talk about. We want to sugar coat things about how much we have learned and how much hope we have for their futures, yet we do have those days when we fall apart. Our hopes and aspirations can become a light at the end of the tunnel that dims to darkness. I will never ever stop researching, advocating for new therapies, fighting with the insurance companies to cover them, reading every book I can get my hands on for new insight even if it seems like futile effort at times.

We had such a fantastic day today – we truly did. Filled with so many cuddles and laughs. My heart overflowed when he grabbed my hand to stroke his face and tickle his chin and stomach more and more and more! It was so joyous the grin on my face made my cheeks hurt. Yet I am completely dreading his radiology appointment to have a upper GI exploratory MRI where he has to fast (not even water), and the hour drive to St. Petersberg All Children’s Hospital will be sheer torture. If he even has a stethoscope put to him, instrument to look in his ears, or take his temperature it results in thrashing and me usually ending up with a few headbutts and a bloody lip. It is a difficult task and job in itself to be a single mother handling this navigation alone.
Not to sound like a martyr – these are the cards I was dealt and he is my angel. Sometimes it is just plain difficult for me to not bitterly resent his father for never even going to one therapy appointment, one doctors appointment, one specialist appointment in order to get him diagnosed, and also the fight to get him into the best schools and newest therapies. I wish so much I could let go of that (dare I say) hatred.
I know it is not healthy– but sometimes I can’t help but remember all the abuse towards me and then of course the complete lack of involvement of his sons life only seeing him once a week. It not only harbors ill feelings but deep sadness for Lincoln that he doesn’t have 2 parents- he has a mother that bends over backwards for his needs and a father that barely makes any time to care for him. I have said incredibly nasty things that at times I regret… calling him a “sperm donor” wasn’t exactly my finest moment. I at times wish I could take it back but other times feel it was completely warranted.

It is honestly wearing me incredibly thin. My auburn red hair is massively turning grey. Wrinkles are abounding.

Weekends come when I have my one day off yet I feel so exhausted I cannot even fathom leaving my apartment to decompress and that sometimes surfaces in not very healthy ways. Something has GOT to change! I do know that I can handle anything, but sometimes wish so much that it all was not completely on my shoulders. OK enough with the semi negative spewing!

Nothing great in life comes easily.
I’ll never give up my unwavering faith for my sweet Lincoln. I’m reminded of this cheesy song by B.O.B. and Taylor Swift that touched my heart and aptly applies to my situation “I wish I was strong enough to lift not one but both of us. Someday I will be strong enough to lift not one but both of us.” This will be our reality- I do not doubt for one second!

Expectations Schmexpectations

Today I got to thinking about the nature of expectations. We try to send out as much love, respect, care, peace, and honesty into the world- However more often than not disappointment sets in and it stings like salt to an open wound. Perhaps our bar was simply raised too high in our minds and hearts. Perhaps we were told things that filled our heads with dreams of the future only to find out later they were a fallacy. A person’s intention is not always to receive and then in return give back all we have given out. This is something I have endeavored to learn but have not mastered.

* A moment of TMI *

I married my first sexual partner at 22 years of age, so when I left him I experienced what most people get out of their systems in college- “playing the field” so to speak ( I was 27 years old at this time). Since I had only been with one man I never had known how badly it can wound you when the most intimate part of yourself is shared with someone only to later find out their intentions were only to “get some”.

I came to the conclusion after a severely bad breakup recently when I had finally felt that I found a real, honest, caring man. So I fell for him instantly. I was NEVER going to be just another notch on some jerks bedpost. No! I realized that I was worth much more and respected myself much more than that! So after things fell apart I took a very long hiatus of celibacy ( no need to disclose how long But mannnnyyyy months ). While I felt the pain of loneliness since I wasn’t feeling the pleasure of physical contact I became even stronger in my resolve to truly love myself again. Thankfully in these months I have flourished with my goals for my son and his therapies, for me resuming college, and my health. The Mind/Body Connection is no joke. I had been ignoring myself and my passions in order to spend time with my previous love ( realizing now there were many things we didn’t have in common that could have become a real problem if either party was not willing to take an interest in each others interests ) and neglected myself I realize now in retrospect. Hindsight is 20/20 after all.

Seeking out love never seems to work. It is just supposed to happen when you least expect it so they say. Yet I had focused so much mental capacity in trying to find someone to potentially have a future with. I reopened my online dating site after my Heart-annihilating breakup ( Yes I make up my own vocabulary sometimes ) and proceeded to connect with a few men; however I didn’t feel the spark. Now don’t get me wrong ( especially if they read this post ) I wanted So badly to make that spark truly happen… They were sweet, we clicked, and I had so many good times. However the feelings I had for them I realized were only a friendship connection not a romantic one. I tried so hard to make myself feel that way but unfortunately you cannot choose who you fall in love with. Someone can be absolutely perfect on paper, outwardly, and inwardly- but that doesn’t mean they are perfect for you. Those utterly amazing butterflies in your stomach are needed. In this past month I have done quite a lot of reflection and truly feel awful for leading these men on since they were such good people. I was too scared to tell them I had realized what I felt, and that what I wanted was only a relationship as friends.

——

*Back on topic*

My expectations were always high…. I crave romance- not just lust or lukewarm love. I want fireworks. Sparks that fly. I want to bond over similar interests, try a plethora of new things together, see the world, and take a million joyous photographs together.

I have coined an epiphany phrase: Communication, Compromise, and Chemistry -The Trifecta of a lasting partnership. I’ve never truly felt all three in any previous relationship. Those darn endorphin/serotonin rushes blocked the red flags since I fall head over feet so quickly. I don’t exactly believe in love at first sight, but I believe in intuition at first sight when you have a date whether it is the first, second, or third that you can indeed start falling in love. I know at the two week mark. To my detriment however since people can conceal their true self ( I did divorce someone who flipped an abusive switch the moment we got back from our honeymoon ) and once I fall in love I am in love. Unshakable, Insatiable, Overpowering love. I swallow a lump *Welp* and say to myself “Uh-oh what have you done setting yourself up to be crushed?! “- since once I have fallen I cannot get back up from my emotional, caring, and loyal nature.

Self-preservation has got to be prevalent and foremost in order to protect ones mind and heart. You Have to take care of You and then the people you love. Especially when it comes to that one special person you have become so vulnerable with bearing your soul to. Being guarded is not what I am proposing but being Aware is. This is the only true way you can properly take care of yourself and be able to take care of others fully without comprising your well-being.

Put the oxygen mask on yourself first~