Ladybug Landing

Not long ago one of my soul sister friends said to me, fight for your healing. This has been weighing heavy on my heart lately because I have not been fighting for my healing.   Those who know me very well know that I am kind of a melancholy person. I have always been this way even as a child. I guess maybe I was born this way and when you are born with a certain personality trait it is hard to be anything else. I may not be able to fully get rid of the inner melancholy but I can at least try and find things that bring me out of my shell, things that make me laugh, things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. Sitting in my room by myself all the time is not healthy (yes I still do this).  Darkness continues to fall upon me more often than not. The older I get the harder it is to wade through the dark to find the light. I try and allow it to come and go but when it comes so frequently I become discouraged and disappointed in myself causing the cyc...

On this day 4 years ago I found my mom dead in her bed. Over the years I have expressed what that moment felt like and still 4 years later there are no words to adequately put to words what that moment was like. I am not sure how it has been 4 years already and I miss her just as much now as I did the day I found her. The grief has shifted and I am able to carry it differently but I still miss her. 4 years ago I was angry with her. Alcoholism is a hard disease to manage when it has consumed one of the most important people in your life. I lost my mom before she died. I lost the mom I knew she was deep inside that dark hell she lived in. I couldn’t save her. It has taken a long time for me to process her death and her life. I couldn’t save her because I was her daughter and she needed to be able to save herself. But I tried my hardest to save her, or I thought I tried my hardest. I still feel I am not able to forgive myself for walking away from her a few days before she di...

I usually use this blog for moments of growth and reflection. Tonight I want to share a moment of grief that caught me off guard. A moment that took my breath away. I was driving home tonight and I was thinking about random things and had the thought of fire fighters and paramedics and what they see in their careers which lead to the memory that took my breath. Over the years and especially in the beginning of this journey I needed to know every detail of the day Mckenna died. I wanted to hear from others that were involved that day, I wanted to hear their stories. I was given the opportunity to speak with the paramedic and EMT. It's actually a really neat story of how it happened but that may be a story for another time. The moment that I was remembering tonight was from the EMT. When I called 911 I was so hysterical that they could not understand what I was saying so they automatically dispatched a code but they did not say if it was an adult or child. The EMT shared that ...

I may have been built from the fire but I was also lost in the fire .  I have been reflecting a lot on my life and where I am today. A few months back I wanted to join the Glendale Fire Crisis Response team again. I felt I was ready to do what I feel I am meant to be doing. I was finally able to do the ride along in Dec and it felt good to be back on the van. I knew it would be a different experience this time around. As an intern it almost killed me (literally). I had the interview and I was picked to join the team again. Again it felt right and felt like “home” to be at the fire station and being part of the team again. They have training classes and in one of the classes I was drowning in memories. Personally I have had the crisis response team show up for 3 different family members and all very traumatic circumstances. I was drowning in the memories of the calls I went on as an intern. All 8 hours of the class I was trying to swim through the memories without them taki...

I did not know what September 27th, 2008 would bring. I was so full of emotions that day, from the moment Mckenna woke up, to the moment I went to bed without her. It's hard to believe how that can happen. How the day can turn in an instant. The drastic changes from the morning to the afternoon to the evening. I did not know that at around 9 am that I would move a TV and it would fall on my daughter. I did not know that at 2:56pm I would hold her lifeless body as she slipped away no longer the joyful, full of life little girl I woke up to that morning. I did not know that I would walk around in a daze wondering what in the hell had just happened going to bed lost and confused. My life was changed on the morning of September 27th, 2008. 8 years ago today I knew what it meant to be brought to your knees begging for your life to end because the pain was just too much to bare. In these last 8 years, I have discovered the depths of darkness I would go. I discovered who would stay...

Lane Graves, 2 years old killed by an alligator in what is supposed to be happiest places on earth. I can't seem to get him or his parents off my mind. Not too long ago I was having a conversation with a couple bereaved mom friends. We were talking about what it means to say to someone, "I can't imagine". One of these beautiful friends Karla Helbert  said that she no longer says those words to anyone after an interaction with a bereaved parent or someone who went through a traumatic experience. Because in reality, we CAN imagine what it would be like to be in their shoes. We CAN imagine what it must have felt like for that father to run in the water desperately trying to save his son, we CAN imagine the parent leaving home not knowing their child ran after them accidently running them over, we can imagine what it must feel like for the parents who discover they did not drop their child off at daycare accidently leaving them in the car, we CAN imagine the mothe...

I have often thought about the analogy of trees and wind. Trees need to be flexible when the winds blow or they would break and not survive the storm. Rigid, stubborn trees trying hard to go against the wind grow tired, weary and broken. Fluid and flexible trees go with the flow of the wind, bending and bouncing back after a storm.  When I began my journey of becoming a social worker I was the stubborn rigid tree trying hard to control everything around me falling apart in the process. This became more of a challenge than allowing the wind to do what it does and go with whatever direction it goes. It was exhausting. I would come unhinged quickly, shut down and not stay with my emotions. Friends have told me that they saw it happen right before their eyes. 2 years ago I started the MSW program. I was fragile, unstable, rigid, shut down, broken and lost. I never thought the day would come for me to get my Master’s. Graduation felt like a million years away. Every class...