Healing Attachment Wounds: Internal Family Systems

I have always had attachment issues, from a very very young age. My mother says that I absolutely could not be alone as a child and I constantly needed to have someone with me, playing with me. I was extremely jealous when my sister was born because my parents no longer had as much time to spend with me. As I got older, I would repeatedly cling to one single friend and depend on that person for a sense of security. We would become attached at the hip and I would feel abandoned if that person became closer with someone else. As I got even older, this turned into needing a relationship all the time in order to feel whole. It’s been a lifelong journey of needing others, attaching to others….even if those people were terrible for me and caused me mental anguish. Apparently the mental anguish was better than being alone. 

After my divorce 4 years ago, my attachment issues got exponentially worse. I felt so devastated and alone that I grasped onto anything I could get when it came to human connection. I was addicted to finding someone that would fix my broken heart, but no one was able to do that. No one could do that but ME.

After a series of toxic relationships and mental health breakdowns, I finally took charge and decided I just couldnt live that way any longer. I began seeing a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with a variety of things and got me on appropriate medication. This began to help, but I still felt a strong need for others and depended on them for my sense of well being. 

My mother has been in therapy for many many years and recommended that I try something called IFS (Internal Family Systems). At this point I was willing to try anything and by a twist of fate, an incredible woman in Moab provided that method of therapy and she also took my insurance, which was one of the biggest hurdles for me in getting the help that I needed. I’ve been going for about 6 months now and I am absolutely astounded at the change within me. 

IFS addresses issues from your childhood, specific events that shape and form who you are. You go back in time, in a bit of a meditative state, and you talk to your former self. You learn more about that person and why they felt the way they felt. You learn about why you may have developed specific patterns, and how to nurture all of the different parts of yourself. It’s self love, acceptance and understanding of why you have become who you are today. 

After addressing the events that shaped me, I can't explain how different I feel. For the first time in my life, I feel like I truly do not need a relationship. I don't want or need someone else in my space all the time. I like me. I am looking out for me. I look in the mirror and I love me. I've been going on dates but I leave feeling overwhelmed and just want to be alone. Alone! It’s actually one of the wildest experiences, to change so drastically that I’m not quite sure how to process it yet. It’s both confusion and pure joy at the same time. 

This post is not only for me to express what I’ve been through, but hopefully to let others know that it is possible to heal. It takes work, the desire to change and the hope that it’ll happen. I am beside myself with gratitude for how far I have come, for the practitioners who have helped me and for my own willingness and strength to get through it all. Mental health is something that we all struggle with in some way or another and is part of the human condition. I’ve decided to let go of any shame associated with that, and you should too. We’re all in this together and I’m rooting for anyone who is on this journey. You can do this. So much love!! 💜

Things won't change until you learn the lesson

When it's time for you to learn a specific lesson, the universe will provide you with every opportunity to master it. I never really understood this concept. When the same circumstances would happen over and over again in my life, I would get angry, complain, and act like a victim. I would feel like nothing was going right for me and that I had no control over this. Somehow, over the past year, I've realized that until we master a specific lesson, the circumstances will not stop. It is our changed behavior that matters.

My most recent lesson has been standing up for myself and not allowing others to treat me poorly. So, the universe has provided me with countless people and situations where I can practice my responses. I will not name names because that is absolutely not the point here at all; the point is how I have evolved and how freaking proud I am of myself.

In the past, I would have let the following things slide. I would have accepted the treatment and continued to allow these people to exist within my life for fear of upsetting them. With practice, I am now able to release people while standing up for how I deserve to be treated. All of these things have happened within the past year and here is how I responded:

1) Someone close to me judged me, talked behind my back and was not there for me when I was in the deepest, darkest depression of my life; someone that I have always been there for during their darkest times. They compared my difficult circumstances to their own, claiming theirs had been worse and that I was overreacting to my situation. I had been accepting this kind of treatment from them for a very long time. Instead of continuing to accept it, I released them from my life.

2) Someone I was dating and living with last year was verbally and emotionally abusing me. In the past, I would have continued to suffer because I didn't believe I deserved better. I would have also stayed, believing that I could fix the person and help them to understand their behavior and grow. This time, I packed my things, left, and saved myself from any more pain.

3) The most long term partner in my life told someone that was interested in dating me that I am "just your typical Moab girl with nothing going on". When I heard about this comment, it was like a stab to the heart. So, I confronted them about it and released them from my life.

4) I have been cat sitting for someone for the past few months. One of the cats that this person had rescued had a 3rd degree burn on its neck. The owner was cutting socks to cover the burn but the socks did not actually cover it, so the cat was scratching the wound down to the muscle. I told the owner I would be happy to bandage the cat in a different way so that it could heal and he said that was fine. Somehow, he began to get upset with me (I think it was his ego stepping in) and started to treat me poorly because I wasn't using the socks that he had cut. He told me that I would have to purchase supplies myself to take care of the burn. He began sending passive aggressive messages and treating me like I was doing something wrong by helping the cat. I told him that I genuinely cared for the cat, but that didn't want to be talked to that way and that he could find a new cat sitter.

4) Someone that I have known for a long time was interested in dating me and pursued me for a month and a half, from a distance, while he was traveling. He texted me morning and night, bought me presents, talked about future plans, started to call me his girlfriend and even sent me money to get my passport so that I could travel with him. When he got back from his travels and things were going well, 5 days in he told me he wasn't sure if he wanted a relationship due to his travels, that he needed time to think and that he was having a mid-life crisis. In the past I would have fought for the relationship and tried to prove my worth. Instead, I released him from my life and wished him well.

6) Someone that I know recently decided to tell me that I am fatter than I used to be. In the past, I would have been heartbroken and felt like crap about myself. Now, I ignored it and next time I see this person I am going to tell them how inappropriate it is to talk about other people's bodies. Also, it didn't emotionally affect me. I love my body.

7) A customer who had come into the restaurant drunk decided to tip me zero dollars the other day (after I heard him tell his wife that he had tipped me $12). I walked up to the table and asked if he had meant to leave me nothing and if there was something I could have done better. He said "well yeah, we never saw you" in slurred speech. The wife was stunned and later came up to me with money, apologizing. In the past, I would have ignored this and sulked about it. Instead, I said something.

These were ALL tests.....were the people involved happy with me? Absolutely not. But, I think I passed with flying colors.

How Barb Higgins Changed My Life

    

    My sophomore year of high school, one of my friends convinced me to join the cross country team. I truly don’t know how this happened because I was always a sprinter and had no business running long distances; maybe she told me that the coach was really cool or something. Anyway, I decided to join to see how it went. It turned out, the coach was cool. Like, really cool. And 20 years later, we are still friends.

    Two weeks into my long distance running career, I decided I was going to quit. It was too hard. Too painful, my legs were cramping, I couldn't breath, we had to run in the rain….and I was just too weak. I remember the moment that I walked up to her to tell her I was quitting and she looked at me with a straight face and said “No, you’re not” and just walked away. I stood there, a bit stunned, and realized I wasn’t getting out of this easily. I proceeded to make up excuses about why I couldn’t run, one of which was period cramps. And even if it were true and she believed me, she still made me run. If it was raining, we ran. If it was sleeting, we ran. If we complained, we ran more. The season went on and I started to get the hang of it. She made it fun and I eventually ended up going from a 30 minute 5K to 24 minute 5K, which felt like leaps and bounds for me. The best memories that I have from high school are from that team, and it was all because of Barb’s passion. She didn’t just help us create fun memories, she taught us what we were capable of. She taught me not to quit, to trust myself, my body and my mind. I attribute a lot of my athletic success to Barb’s influence and I will always, always be grateful for that.

    The thing about Barb is that despite her positive attitude and her visible passion for life, it has not been an easy ride for her. In 2016 she lost her daughter Molly to an undiagnosed pediatric brain tumor that is something I cannot even begin to imagine experiencing. On top of that, shortly after she was diagnosed with 3 brain tumors of her own and had to undergo brain surgery. But knowing Barb, here she is….not only living her life day by day as best as she can, but she’s competing in crossfit competitions at age 58. She started her own podcast . And even more amazing, last year at age 57 she gave birth to a baby boy, Jack. She is one of the oldest women to give birth in this country.

    If you take anything from this post, please let it be that you can get through anything. ANYTHING. This woman is a testament to that and I will forever be grateful that I was able to have her as a mentor at such a young age. She not only made my experience on the cross country team fun, but she showed me what perseverance was. What confidence was. What passion was. And without that, I’m not sure where I would be. Thank you, Barb. 444

    Also, she was in an incredible commercial filmed in Moab that you must watch. It brings me to tears:

Healing Inner Wounds

    I’ve been having a really hard month as many of you know. And to those of you who have gone out of your way to check on me, I am honestly filled with gratitude and love and I cannot express how much it has helped me through all of the insanity.

    Because I believe vulnerability is strength and only connects us all to one another, I’ve chosen to share what I’ve been going through. This isn’t easy to share, but due to covert verbal and psychological abuse by my boyfriend that I was not truly cognizant of (and honestly I'm not even sure he was cognizant of), I had a panic attack that left me uncontrollably hyperventilating for 25 minutes. I proceeded to experience a full blown mental breakdown where I made some very poor decisions that could have been catastrophic. Despite my brainwashed desire to stick around in the relationship, I chose to break up with him to preserve my sanity and well being, which led me to move back to NH (this is all after giving up my apartment and moving all of my stuff to Massachusetts only a few months ago). In the midst of all of this, I started a new job and had to travel to a different place for a week to train for it by myself while in an extremely fragile mental state. All I wanted was to be under the covers somewhere safe. I was also in my sisters wedding, which was emotionally overwhelming given my circumstances. The fact I am still here right now with a smile on my face is actually quite shocking given that I was pushed to the end of a rapidly fraying rope.

    All of that aside, the whole point of this post right now is not about pity or complaining about everything that happened, because life dishes these things out to everyone and I am not special or unique: it’s about the fact that I am actually okay today. I have been doing absolutely everything in my power to get through this and so, I’m slowly getting there.

    On my long commutes to Massachusetts I’m listening to an incredible self-healing podcast by The Holistic Psychologist that has been truly eye opening and is helping me access parts of my mind that I haven’t accessed before. I’ve been working with a psychiatrist to manage my mental health and found out I’ve been misdiagnosed my entire life; this is amazing because now I can take steps to heal in a way that will actually work for me. I’ve been journaling. I’ve been breathing and meditating. I’ve continued to stay sober from alcohol and have joined various support groups. I’ve been talking with friends and family and started a daily gratitude journal. All I can say is that when you chose to face yourself, take a long hard look in the mirror and actually do the work, you start to see results. I’m nowhere near where I want to be yet, but I’m slowly but surely moving in that direction. I wake up in the morning feeling a sense of peace that hasn’t been there before, and that’s progress.

    I think that I actually, truly, hit rock bottom for the first time in my life and it forced me to face all of the things I’ve been running from for decades. There’s clearly a reason that I attracted and stayed with someone who was treating me in a way that was less than what I deserve; it’s time to heal my inner wounds so that I can first and foremost, love myself unconditionally without the need for anyone else to tell me that I’m worthy. I am finding that each day that passes, the more I trust myself and the more I feel comfortable in my own company. I have so much hope regarding my healing and my future and I hope that by sharing this, there can be hope for anyone else struggling with any type of abuse or mental health issues. Honestly this is the most vulnerable I have been yet in all of the writing I have shared over the years, so thank you for reading it.

Would I do it all again?

    Some of you may know that I have been dealing with extreme neck and back pain for the past 10 years; pain that I have become pretty good at hiding when I needed to. This pain has come along with a plethora of other daily symptoms like migraines, fatigue, body pain, hot flashes, blurry vision, ocd, adhd and depression, dizziness, achy muscles/joints and extreme brain fog. Needless to say, that list is not all encompassing (and who knows if they are related to the neck pain). But, regardless, it has been an absolutely wild journey that cannot be truly explained in one blog post. It's been a journey that has taken a toll on me both physically and mentally as well as affected those that are close to me. Countless doctors and specialists, ER visits, tests, medications, and even surgery... nothing ever seemed to turn up or truly fix the problem. Not to mention the financial burden it has had on me and my family over a decade.

    The past 10 years has also consisted of me trying to hide the fact that I wasn't well by: continuing to go to work even though I was in extreme pain, feeling terrible when I had to call out and wondering if my bosses actually believed me, making excuses to my friends as to why I couldn't go and do something because I really just didn't want to explain that my unexplained illness was flaring up, feeling stupid because of the brain fog I was fighting to see through, and driving my ex husband and my mother insane with my constant search for answers. The past 10 years has also been full of anxiety and depression due to the uncertainty and impact of my body dysfunction.

    My neck pain has recently gotten significantly worse so I decided to go and see a chiropractor that specializes in the cervical spine (after an old friend of mine mentioned something called "cervical instability"....thank you to Aluna). It turns out that my C1 and C2 are out of alignment. I also have disc degeneration, osteoarthritis, bone spurs and a potential herniated disc for which they have ordered an MRI. All of these things have clearly stemmed from my participation and passion for sports, having multiple falls as well as one very bad fall directly onto my neck back in 2011.

    Honestly, I do feel a bit validated right now after hearing all of this information. It's the "SEE! I told you so!" feeling; the "I haven't been making this up just for attention" feeling. But then there's also the fear...you know, that nagging little feeling that there's no fix, the "what if I need surgery?" question or the worry that it's not the main cause of all my symptoms and I will be left searching for the rest of my days. Thankfully, despite those fears, it's the overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude that I want to hold onto right now. The gratitude to my parents for sticking by me all this time and for supporting me through it all, and the gratitude to my absolutely incredible partner for falling in love with me despite all of my pain.

    The picture below is really how I'm feeling right now; sitting in silence and looking out at all of the things I've done in my 36 years of life. The sports that I played starting at age 7, my adventurous spirit that led me to rock climbing and highlining; all of the things that brought me to life but that in turn contributed to my injuries and where I sit now. I could have chosen a more conventional life and avoided a lot of this. And so the question remains: would I do it all again? As Garth Brooks sings, I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance.

Neverland

When I was 5 years old

I wished upon a star

Sprinkled a bit of fairy dust

Summoning him from afar

I begged and begged and wished and wished

That Peter Pan would come

And take me to Never Never Land

Where age was just a sum

Of all the years that came before

This place was but a dream

No fear, no pain, or sadness there

Merely a place to flee

The struggles of daily life were hard

And I wanted so badly to go

I begged and begged and pleaded to the sky

That Peter would have me in tow

When I was 23, thank God

My dream had finally come true

I found a place in the world just like

The Neverland I had come to know

Wild and free and open and wide

The desert called to me

I fell in love with the sand and the sky

I swore I would never leave

Years went by and I became one of them

The lost boys, they went by

I played and laughed and ran and sang

The real world rules did not apply

No commitment and no real plan

My life was by the wind

I tried and tried for 12 straight years

But I would never truly fit in

I tried to leave many a time

The vortex pulling me back

I drank the water from the natural spring

And that was my setback

There came a point where I realized

There is a time to grow up

We can be kids forever and ever

But will that fill us up?

Adventure and play and fun and sun

Those are all wonderful things

But all in all, and as it goes

We all must spread our wings

Into the unknown, I venture now

Hoping for so much more

Than the life I’ve lived as a friend of the lost boy

I know there is much in store

Remembering you

I got married and divorced and you’ve had a life too But tucked deep within the hideaways in my heart, you’ve been there Just like all of our memories that I hold so dear Seeing you smile again, remembering you, it’s been too good to be true A lifetime ago, before my marriage, it was you

The fibers of you and me

The last thing you ever bought me Was a beige and fuzzy vest     I put it in the dryer And it turned into a matted mess

I spent hours and hours 

Combing out the tousled furr

Hoping I could mend what was burnt and tangled

But that’s exactly what we were

I cried and cried and I didn’t know why

This immaterial vest was no longer new

And it would never look the same

As the day I received it from you

New Life Within Me

Sitting on that thin and wobbly line, I had never felt so frightened and alone. Purely existing in that immense quiet, listening to my own slow breath, I wasn’t sure that what I was attempting was even possible for someone like me. Standing up and falling too many times to count, feeling the sharp line tear at my legs and palms as I caught the line, I felt defeat but also a silent power emanating from the last light. I knew somewhere deep inside of me that I actually did have the strength. I made the choice to stand up proudly, standing taller than anyone in that valley. My first steps were shaky and a light breeze blew past my grimaced face. Focusing solely on a freshly bloomed flower on the opposite cliffside, step by step, I slowly traversed the longest 70 feet I had ever walked. My eyes glued to that new life, I sensed a new life within me too.

Photo by Eric Rsmsn, 2009
Hole Rock Highline, Napa Valley, CA

Roots

Twelve US states and twenty plus moves,

I’ve wandered around, only having myself to soothe

The fear, the unknown, the uncertainty and the strife,

Even if you didn’t know me, you could cut it with a knife

East coast and west coast and everywhere in between, 

It was only a matter of time before I would want to leave

Taught from birth that when things got tough, 

The best thing to do was to leave things in the dust

Sometimes I feel more like a bird than a person,

Wondering what it would have been like to have stayed by the ocean

Instead, soaring from place to place 

Seeking newness, adventure and a new smiling face

Observing those with families and kids,

Sitting inside their white picket fence

I can’t help but think they're more like trees,

Roots buried so deep, they could never leave

The lessons learned and the hearts that were broken,

I wouldn’t trade it for any golden token

This place and that place and her and him,

I wouldn’t be me without all of them

All of the people and all of the places,

I will never forget the countless faces

And perhaps roots are different for us,

Less about grounding and more about love

Divorce and Denial

I used to write, a lot, and it was something I truly loved to do. I wrote about my life and my experiences, which was so therapeutic for me and it was fun to be able to share that with others. As much as I loved that pastime, for some reason it fell to the wayside over the past decade; but tonight, I'm feeling the need to let it flow through me, just as it used to.

Two and a half years ago, I parted ways with my husband whom I was with for 7 beautiful, challenging, adventurous and memorable years. It would be an impossible task to summarize what the  journey of divorce has been like for me, but for some reason I'm feeling the urge to try. 

At first, what I felt was denial. Denial that something so special could end. Denial that someone that I loved so much could leave me. Denial that I was even experiencing pain and hurt. And most importantly, denial that I could continue forward alone. 

I spent quite a few months in this stage, jumping from relationship to relationship, trying to unconsciously replicate what my partner and I had created together. And when I was not able to do that....I felt a sense of betrayal, loss and desperation for an immediate solution to my pain. Looking back on that time, it's as if I was separate from myself in some way, moving aimlessly towards an endpoint that wasn't even clearly defined. 

After many failed attempts at replacing what I had, I buried myself in work. I decided to focus my attention on something other than the loss, because then....it didn't hurt as badly. I ended up finding a job that I liked and even got promoted to a position that paid more than I had ever made in my life. I was so proud of myself and felt like I had "made it" (whatever that even means). Throughout my marriage, the focus had been on my partner's career and he was going to be the bread winner, so this job was such a huge accomplishment to have achieved on my own. 

As much as I learned from this position, how independent I had become, how much I grew and how proud I was of myself, what I didn't realize was that by burying myself in this job I was no longer present. I was distracted from the simple pleasures of life: I was stressed, completely overwhelmed and in all honesty, I had become a part of the "rat race" that we can so easy to fall into. I no longer felt things, almost as if I was numb. I hardly laughed, which is a character trait I have always been known for (for God's sakes, I used to get banished to the corner in elementary school for laughing too much!) I would come home from work and immediately crash on the couch with no physical, emotional or mental energy to spare. Throughout most of that time, I kept telling myself that it was normal, that in order to "make it", this was the sacrifice. But, it got to the point where I could no longer put my own health second.

I recently chose to resign from that position for various reasons and have found something that does not suck the life out of me; for the first time in what seems like an eternity, I am at peace. I think the reason that I feel so compelled to write this tonight is because today.....it was as if my armor fell and I actually felt something. Today, I truly felt the emotion behind some of my favorite songs and I actually took the time to listen to the lyrics; I felt the wind blowing past my car window and allowed myself to enjoy being alive; I was truly moved while watching a movie and shed actual tears onto my friends shoulder; and for the first time in years, I experienced a joyful nostalgia while reminiscing on my life's best memories. 

All of this being said and as painful as the experience of divorce was (and is), I cannot be more grateful to have been through something so hard. Yes, it still hurts. Yes, I still have rough days. But, without it, I would not be the person I am today, and I think we can ALL say that about the challenging experiences we have been through. In the moment, life can seem truly impossible but what we don't realize is that in each and every moment we are creating a better version of ourselves <3

No Mud, No Lotus

       As I sit here in late December, completely ready for 2020 to arrive and 2019 to be in my distant memory, I can’t help but look back and think of all of the events that have transpired over the course of the year. Thinking back on it now, I am confident in saying that this has been, single-handedly, the most formative year of my life thus far and that is quite the statement for me to make considering all of the things I have been through in my mere 33 years of life. As the year began, in January, my best friend and canine companion of 11 years was diagnosed with cancer of the spleen and I had to make the heart wrenching decision to put her to rest. A few months after that, my partner and husband of 7 years and I decided to separate, ultimately ending in divorce. During that same time frame, I chose to leave a toxic work environment that was eating me alive and turning me into a person I no longer liked or respected. Following these three events, feeling completely vulnerable and lonely, I dove head first into a relationship with someone emotionally unavailable, leaving me to feel abandoned not once, but twice. Not to mention, I had also made the decision to get off of an extremely addictive anxiety medication that I had been on for 22 years leaving me in withdrawal and experiencing symptoms of immense anxiety and panic. All of these circumstances combined left me feeling completely lost in a world that I no longer understood; I literally felt like I was bush whacking my way through a dense forest, not knowing which direction was the way out. Saying that this year has been difficult would be an understatement but thankfully, I can also say that I have transformed in so many incredible ways. Despite how horrendous it all felt at the time, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

       First of all, losing a pet is something that I truly cannot put into words that would make any real sense. Making the decision to put her down wasn’t the hard part - she was deeply suffering and the only gift I could provide her was relief. But, as the moment came for me to bring her into the vet, my heart began to slowly tear apart. As I lay on the floor with the one living being who knew me best, I couldn’t contain the tears as they streamed down my face, falling onto the concrete floor next to her soon to be lifeless body. I adopted Belle when I was 21 years old and we had moved out west together, just her and I. She had been there for me through the most difficult times and the very best of times. She was there for nearly every highline I ever walked! On that cold January day as she was injected with the substance ultimately meant to stop her heart, my heart nearly stopped beating as well. I literally didn’t know who I was without her. I laid next to her until she took her last breath and I couldn’t believe that my best friend would no longer be there to snuggle me at night, nearly knock me down with excitement after a long work day or to lay with me when she knew I was devastated (and she always knew). It was a sense of loss that I had never experienced before and I cried for weeks. That dog got me through over a decade of my life and I am eternally grateful for her old soul and unconditional love for me. A few weeks after losing her, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sensation of a dog licking my hand. The strange thing was, it couldn't have been my other dog, Piper, because my hand was lying in the corner where the bed met the wall. I am sure it was Belle. 

Belle and I in 2009

  As I grieved the loss of my beloved companion, my husband and I chose to separate after 7 years together. I won’t go into the details of our separation and divorce because I want to respect his privacy but I would like to share how I felt and how it affected me. When I chose to get married, I had no doubt in my mind that it was the right decision. Actually, I was the one who proposed to him (we had made a silly little bet about who would do it first). I was so sure about it, more sure then I had ever been about anything else before. Unfortunately, it was as if the odds were stacked against us from the very beginning. Throughout our relationship, we continually ran into road block after road block: issues with family, financial barriers, my chronic illness, his career change, housing problems and the list could go on. Sometimes, we both wondered if our relationship was somehow cursed. Things that he would buy me as gifts would constantly end up breaking or go completely missing. Was this a sign? Looking back on our 7 years together, part of me feels like the universe was trying to tell us something: perhaps this was not the partnership we were meant to be in. The funny part about it is, it wasn’t like we fought with one another. Actually, we never did; we got along incredibly well! Of course we had our issues like any couple does, but we were always respectful and caring towards one another. Always. It was somewhat frustrating that we couldn’t seem to convince the universe to make it work and ultimately, the universe was right (it always is!). In the end, my heart was broken and I’m sure his was too. Divorce is truly devastating, it honestly felt a lot like the loss of my dog: a death. I truly didn’t know how to process what was happening to me and my life! So, I unconsciously chose not to face it and jumped directly into a new relationship in an attempt to numb the immense amount of pain I was feeling (sound like a familiar story?).

A Song for Mark 

  Diving into a new relationship was really exciting at first. A big part of me was

really hopeful and open to something new. Despite the fact that he informed me of his emotional unavailability and past issues with commitment, I chose to ignore those statements and I believed that I could help him open up his locked up heart. Being an empath at my core, I thought that I could teach him how to be vulnerable and help him learn how to truly love. Maybe teaching someone to love would help me get over my painful divorce? In hindsight, I think this was an attempt to keep myself from feeling the pain that was buried deep inside. Ultimately, and not surprisingly, the relationship met its demise. When something just isn’t working out, there is no forcing it and that is exactly what we were trying to do. As excruciating as the experience was, trying to make a relationship work that just wasn’t ended up teaching me many lessons. I learned that when two energies don’t mesh, it’s best to just accept that fact. I learned that when someone isn’t ready to love, you can’t force them to be ready. And, I learned to wait for what is truly right for me because if I'm not patient, what is meant for me will never find its way into my life.

  Finally, I’d like to speak about what it was like to get off of a drug I had been on for nearly two thirds of my existence (I feel like this topic is actually worthy of its own separate post which I may eventually write). But for now, I am going to be completely honest and open about my mental health and that is something that scares me a little. It scares me because mental health isn’t something people usually talk openly about. It’s not something that is looked at the same way as a physical ailment is. But, in hopes of changing that stigma, I am going to talk about my challenges openly and without shame. When I was 12 years old, I was officially diagnosed with OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). It manifested itself in a variety of ways when I was young but mainly, when I was 5, I began worrying about germs to the point where I would wash my hands so incessantly that they would bleed. As I grew older, I started to experience very unhealthy thought patterns. I began obsessing over things that were completely irrational and made up. For example, I would lie awake at night paralyzed by the idea that someone was going to break into the house and kill my family members, leaving me with no sleep whatsoever. Or, I thought that if I didn't get up and fix the curtains in just the right way, something terrible would happen. There are many other outlandish thoughts that entered my mind as well but they are so disturbing to me that I don't feel comfortable sharing them. The thing is, these thoughts were not just thoughts or fears; they were so intrusive that I could not function within my daily life. I was so caught up inside my own brain that I was often staring into space or completely unable to participate in daily activities. It was like I was a zombie, trapped inside my own dysfunctional mind which was putting miserable and terrifying thoughts on never ending repeat. My mother began to realize that something wasn’t quite right with me and took me in to see a psychiatrist. 

       From there, I was put on a medication called Paxil, which in the mid 90's was deemed safe, even for children my age. At the time, Paxil changed my life for the better, almost immediately! My obsessions were completely gone and I could exist as a normal, healthy teenager. I only suffered a few episodes of severe OCD thoughts over the span of 22 years (although I still exhibited “ tendencies” like keeping things extra organized or “ just so”). Unfortunately, many years after I was put on the drug, the medical community learned that it was extremely physically addictive and caused birth defects in newborn babies. Upon finding this out, it took me 10 years and various attempts to successfully to get myself off of it. It turns out that 2019 was my year for success, but the process was truly unbearable. To explain what it was like, some people compare the process of getting off Paxil to getting off of Heroin. During the transition from Paxil to a newer and much safer drug, I suffered extreme anxiety and panic attacks, nausea, headache, flu like symptoms, and more. I hid these withdrawal symptoms very well because I am an expert at pretending I am okay. But honestly, without the support of my mother and the incredible friends that I have in my life, I’m not sure I would still be here to tell this tale. I called my Mom nearly every day for month's during the transition and I don’t know how I will ever repay her for answering my calls.

  As this year is coming to an end, I am finally finding myself in a better place and feeling a sense of comfort and stability. I am at peace with the loss of both my dog Belle and my marriage. Having left my toxic job at the beginning of the year was the best decision I could have made for myself and I now have a job that makes me happy and I feel both valued and fulfilled. I am no longer dating someone that isn’t right for me and I am also on a safer drug helping me manage some of my mental health challenges. Honestly, I feel a little kooky for choosing to write about all of this on my blog and I deliberated long and hard before publishing because this may be the most vulnerable and open that I have ever been on this platform. But, there is something within me that is always pushing me to tell my story, regardless of how personal or how raw it may be and I have always been this way: brutally honest. I realize that there are people out there that may judge me for aspects of what I am sharing or perhaps not completely understand (specifically the OCD part). But, I am also sure that there are people out there who are going through similar life challenges that may take solace in that fact that they are not alone. What I’ve realized is that life is very much like a roller coaster ride that never ends. There will be ups and downs. There will be moments of pure euphoria and moments of sheer terror. There will be moments when you think the worst is over but there is still more to come. But, as my best friend always tells me during times of trouble “just wait a few weeks, Emily, and everything will be different”. 

My dog Piper and Me in 2019 :) 

Finding Balance in a Different Way

I used to write a lot. I loved to share my life and my experiences with people through words. My life was very exciting back then and I had a lot to share! It was so rewarding to share my life, receive feedback and hear about people's similar experiences. It was also such a joy to serve as an inspiration for others pursuing an adventurous lifestyle and outdoor sports. I wrote about highlining and what that was like for me, some of the internal struggles I was going through and about my personal progression as both an athlete and a human being. When I got sick in 2012 (which you can read about in previous blog posts) I not only slowed down in my outdoor pursuits but I also started to feel like there wasn't as much to write about anymore. I was so used to writing about my adventurous lifestyle yet I was dealing with my health and fighting an internal struggle that I wasn't sure my audience would be interested in hearing about. I started noticing that because I wasn't posting epic photos like I had for so many years, I wasn't getting as many "likes" or comments as I once had. I thought, "maybe people just don't care unless it's about highlining?" I continued to post for a while about what I was going through health wise. Still, I wasn't getting the same amount of feedback as I once had. This was discouraging and led me to believe that my story was just no longer interesting. I slowly started to fade from social media, deleted my public facebook page where I had gained many followers and started to turn into more of a private person. I think that this had to do with the health changes in my life as well as a battle that I've always had with my ego. I didn't really want to be someone that needed attention online to feel fulfilled. I felt like perhaps I was seeking something through social media, validation maybe, that really wasn't what I wanted my life to be about. Whatever my reasons were, I changed my relationship with social media and started to focus on my day to day life; more specifically, my health.

Health became my number one focus after that. I was working daily to try and discover what was causing my symptoms and finding new ways to manage them. It was all trial and error because despite my Lyme Disease test being positive, no doctor could tell me how to manage it or what to do to feel better. Being sick like I was, honestly, was one of the hardest things I've ever been through in my life. Although I had a tremendous amount of support from my husband, my family and my friends, I had never felt so alone. I think that's the most challenging part about being sick. Nobody, no matter who they are, is going to completely understand what you are going through. I became not only physically sick but also a bit depressed. I couldn't escape my own body and my body was not a place I wanted to be anymore. As time went on, I fell deeper and deeper into isolation. I was not as active due to my symptoms and not as social due to the emotional aspects of being sick. Daily tasks were difficult, not to mention trying to work. Eventually, my mother-in-law gave me the opportunity to see an Integrative Doctor who was trained to think differently than most MD's and that's when everything started to change for me. This doctor tested my gut for dysbiosis (imbalance) and food allergies which ultimately altered my whole life's trajectory. I was able to eliminate foods that were causing tremendous inflammation in my body as well as restore balance within my digestive tract, allowing me to feel more and more normal. I honestly couldn't believe it. Being sick for so long, I had lost hope that I would ever feel normal or like myself ever again. It's still a shock to me when I wake up and am able to function like a real human.

Periodically throughout the years I would get messages from people about my past: how I had influenced them, how they had enjoyed watching my videos or how I had even taught them to slackline at one point. These moments continually brought me back to that time and how it felt being such an influential person. I felt, each time someone reached out, that I missed what I did and I missed sharing my life on such a deep level. But, how could I find a healthy balance and be sure that I didn't get sucked into social media like it so easily lures us? I am writing this now because this is something I am still struggling with. I want to share my life with others, I want to write and be open about my life experiences, my emotions and all of the things that I find important in this life. But, I want to be sure that I am staying balanced. I find it ironic that I was so great at physical balance when I was highlining yet I still struggle with balance in other areas of my life today. I suppose that's part of all of this: figuring out how to live on this planet the best way that we can. I want to continue to be honest about what I'm going through because not only does it help me to write it out, but perhaps it will spark a conversation about issues that are not as often talked about. Thanks for listening and until next time!

Fighting Chronic Disease - My Story

It was 2012, early spring, and I had just returned to the desert town of Moab, Utah from a brief hiatus from the small town life. Moab is an incredible place if you love adventure but being only about 5,000 people or so it get's overwhelming at times, your typical small town drama. I had decided to take about a 6 month break and spent some time in the Denver/Boulder, Colorado area with some friends. Upon returning to the desert I started to notice that I was much more fatigued than usual but blew it off thinking I might just have a bug or something. Weeks and weeks went by and not only was I fatigued but I began to have severe cramping in my shoulder blades; I found myself constantly asking friends for shoulder rubs (and thank you for obliging, by the way). One episode was so extreme that I was actually brought to the ground and begged my friend to please just make the cramping stop. I prayed that he may actually have magical powers and could perhaps suck the pain right out of me; unfortunately he was not magical. It was so debilitating that I could hardly breathe. We had driven about an hour out of Moab and were preparing for a long hike to rig a highline but I was completely incapable of continuing. What's interesting is this was not my first experience with being brought to he ground by muscle cramps. I had had these cramps before, many years prior. My first "back spasm", as I have come to call them, was in 2008 in my college dorm room in North Carolina. At that time I was brought in an ambulance to the hospital because the spasm had lasted over 5 hours and I literally could not get off the floor of my room. That posed a problem for the EMT's as they didn't know how to get me out of the second floor dorm room. I ended up crawling slowly to the chair and they carried me down the stairs in a seated position. For those of you that have never had a back spasm, it is not minor. The muscles tense up so tightly that it actually pulls muscles from back, your sides and even your chest. It felt like the air was being squeezed right out of my lungs. Any move that I made triggered even more tightening of the muscles. At the hospital the doctor reluctantly gave me a muscle relaxant shot (right in the bum), some pain killers and more muscle relaxants to take home. I could tell, though, that he wasn't quite sure I was telling the truth about my pain. He had this look in his eye that perhaps I was a drug addict just begging for more.

The thing is, I'm actually a very strong person and can typically handle a lot of pain. I think I inherited this trait from my father who brought me up as an athlete, having me on ice hockey skates at age 3 and on an all boys team by age 7. I have always been a tom boy and someone who refuses to go down easily. But this was different. Not only was I having fatigue and spasms but an array of other symptoms began to rear their ugly heads; I started to keep track of them all. There were so many symptoms at one point that I felt silly even telling the doctors about all of them. I'm sure that some people in my life thought I was a hypochondriac, thinking something was very wrong with me when it wasn't, and that was one of the hardest things to deal with. I felt very alone. As many doctors as I saw, as many emergency room visits as I made, not one person seemed to care enough or believe me enough to look deeper into the issue. My symptoms ranged from periodic nausea, dizziness, repeated infections, muscle and joint pain, sensitivity to light, heart palpitations, chest pain, achey body and eventually severe anxiety and depression. I couldn't seem to find someone that would help me investigate this so I decided to begin my own investigation.

I started doing research day in and day out. I think I started to worry my boyfriend (now husband) as I was constantly on the internet reading article after article about this disease and that disease. Each symptom that I had related to so many different illnesses that it was difficult to narrow it down. I went from one minute thinking I had Lupus to another thinking I had Multiple Sclerosis or Fibromyalgia or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. So many diseases and so many symptoms my brain was mush after a while. At this point I had made so many doctor's visits that I think I gave up on that approach. I started to monitor my own health daily and at least try to manage the symptoms the best that I could. I started to notice what foods made my symptoms worse and about 3 years into it I figured out a pretty good system for myself. Very low carbs, very low sugar and hardly any alcohol. Those were the three things that effected me the most. Although I had it somewhat under control, I still felt somewhat helpless. What was wrong with me? Yes, I was managing the symptoms and was able to function on a daily basis, but not without discomfort and always having in the back of my mind this mystery illness. Not to mention my three vices happened to be what made me feel worse; I just wanted to be normal and go out for a drink with friends without suffering the consequences.

Eventually I went to see a new doctor in Arizona where my husband and I had moved for a basic check up. I explained to her casually what I had been through and that something was wrong but I didn't know what. This time I wasn't desperate for answers; this time I went in there with no expectations as I had lost hope when it came the medical field. Despite my attitude, I have to say, this Nurse Practitioner was the first medical professional to actually take the time and listen to me. She made eye contact. She asked me questions. She wrote everything down. I could see in her eyes that she was actually quite concerned and even curious about what might be wrong. We did many tests and labs, as many as I could afford, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. My liver was fine, my kidneys were fine, I didn't have diabetes, my blood tests were normal. Nothing was coming up. Defeated once again I felt like maybe I just needed to accept that I would never know. Perhaps not knowing was my reality.

As defeated as I was I felt like I was getting closer and closer to figuring out this mystery. Having tests that came out normal actually gave me more to work with; the process of elimination. One thing that had really stood out to me over the years was my sudden intolerance to alcohol. I had always been able to drink previously with no issue (other than some swelling in my hands and feet which is something a lot of my family members experience). But now, it made all of my symptoms worse the next morning and my hangovers were intolerable. My whole body would actually ache, my muscles and even my skin would ache. I know that sounds strange but it felt like a full body bruise. I started to research this and I came across an article that had something to do with how Lyme Disease patients struggle to process alcohol and it can actually feed the Lyme Bacteria, in turn making symptoms worse. It was like a light bulb went off. This was the first article I had read that seemed to point me in the right direction. A lot of other things during my research had made sense to me in the past but I had never found anything this specific to a symptom I was having. At my next doctor's visit I was getting more lab's done and last minute I asked if they could add on the Lyme Disease test. The phlebotomist checked and said that would be no problem. I was excited. Perhaps this was it? Would I finally have my answer? A week later I went back in to go over my results. "So everything looks totally normal here", as she scrolled down the lab report, "Everything is fine on these tests. It seems like you're blood sugars are normal, you're liver enzymes...wait a minute, what's this. Emily, your Lyme test is positive."

I went home that day in disbelief; still to this day I have a hard time believing that I actually know what is wrong with me. I have Lyme Disease. I have to repeat that to myself over and over again. I have Lyme Disease. I got so used to researching and not knowing that my brain doesn't seem to comprehend that there is no more searching to be done. It is time to heal now. But, unfortunately, healing from Lyme Disease is not that simple.

In your ideal Lyme Disease case, which many of you may be familiar with, the patient discovers a tick on their body followed by a circular red rash that is very distinct. This then develops into flu like symptoms and then, hopefully, a doctor's visit. Antibiotics are administered and then most patients go  back to their normal lives. In your not so ideal case, which many people are unaware of, the patient does not realize they have been bit by a tick, does not develop the typical rash and develops flu like symptoms which are then treated as just that: the flu. If the patient does not get treated with antibiotics right away the Lyme bacteria have time to spread into the body: the muscles, the joints and in more severe cases the nervous system and the brain.

My case is the not so ideal one. I don't exactly know when I contracted the disease. I did grow up in New England and was born 60 miles from Lyme, Connecticut where the disease was originally discovered (and is rumored to actually be a bioweapon created by man, which is a whole different blog post alltogether). My Mother says that when I was 3 years old I had a very large tick on my neck but I never developed a rash or exhibited any symptoms at that time. In high school I have vague memories of being in contact with ticks but have no specific memorable events. All in all, I don't know when I contracted the disease but I do know when I started to develop symptoms. Some doctor's theorize that the human body can manage/fight the bacteria up until a certain trigger event, whether that event is the onset of an additional virus or extreme amounts of stress, either one can produce the onset of symptoms. Whatever the case, it seems that the typical Lyme story is not applicable to in all cases. The diseases has also been nicknamed "The Great Imitator" due to it's resembling many other illnesses. To top that off, the bacteria of Lyme Disease comes with "co-infections": infections that it travels with, like friends or buddies, or pals. These multiple bacteria strains live together in a bio-film, a protective casing, which render it un-detectable, protected from harm, and very difficult to diagnose.

I never imagined that I would be affected by chronic illness. Having always been a healthy and active person I feel somewhat blindsided by all of it. Life seems to do that, doesn't it. On minute you're walking highlines across the desert canyons and the next you're chronically ill. On the bright side, I am not one to give up. My father not only trained me as an athlete but he also taught me to keep pushing forward, no matter the circumstances. This will not take me down. As difficult as walking highlines once was for me it does not compare to the challenge this disease has presented. I thought I had reached my peak when it came to challenges, I thought I had done the hardest thing I could do, but I was very very wrong.

My life now is very different than it once was. I am still the same person with the same adventurous spirit but I am limited by how I feel. Some days I feel great and am up for a long hike or rock climbing or anything fun. Other days I am fatigued and achey and don't want to get off the couch. This is not only hard for me but it is also hard for those around me to understand. I think it's hard for people to truly understand the disease and that every day is different. I find myself feeling lazy on the days I can't get up. I blame myself for not pushing through it. This is something that I am working on. I don't want to feel guilty for how I feel and right now that is one of my challenges.

Treatment also effects the way I feel. Right now I am taking various dietary supplements, monitoring my daily diet, seeing a naturopathic doctor here in Flagstaff and undergoing Ozone Therapy. Lyme Disease thrives in low oxygen environments therefore by infusing the blood with oxygen it creates an environment that the diseases no longer thrives. You may be thinking, "But we breathe oxygen everyday, right?" Well yes. But, our bodies can only access a limited amount. By infusing the blood with even more oxygen it really kicks this disease in the butt. When the bacteria dies, it emits toxins into the body which cause what is referred to as a "Herxheimer Reaction" or "Die off". The toxins make you're usual symptoms much, much worse. It's the "feel worse before you feel better" idea. As I delve into the healing process I am so grateful for those that support me and love me. I thank you. I also thank you for taking the time to read this and perhaps gain more understanding not only into my story but into the story of all "Lymies" out there going through the same thing. Until next time, onward and upward. Through the challenges we blaze, as without them life is meaningless.




(If you are interested in learning more about Lyme Disease, the website that I have found to be the most useful is www.lymedisease.org)

Why you haven't seen me online for a while.

It's been a very long time since I've written on my blog, the last post being about an individual that I knew who died BASE Jumping and how that had effected me. I guess that says something in and of itself....I think it had more of an impact on me than I originally thought it did. 

For the longest time I was very, very involved in the outdoor adventure community. Living in Moab, Utah (the now mecca for outdoor adventure sports) and myself being a slackliner and highliner I surrounded myself with all types of athletes from rock climbers to other highliners, BASE Jumpers, Wingsuiters, "rope swingers", mountain bikers, and many others. It was a thrill and I felt like I was in my element. I loved it; it was so empowering to be surrounded by other adventurers and in some respects we inspired and encouraged one another to push our limits. I felt like these were my best friends and that I was happier than I had ever been. But on some occasions it seemed to be the opposite. In order to be successful in the extreme athletics that we were involved in it started to become competitive and those that I thought were my friends somehow became my competition, which was never the intention. Not only that but people were starting to get hurt, and people were even dying.

I started to feel like it wasn't worth it anymore. People were injuring themselves and dying all around me. I had a friend in 2011 fall while rock climbing which resulted in brain damage. In 2012 there were multiple BASE Jumping accidents; people were crashing into the rock walls after jumping and having to get rescued and flown to the nearest hospital. A friend of mine broke her femur base jumping and is now, I'm sure, stuck with thousands and thousands of dollars in medical fees. Another person I knew passed away while BASE Jumping and then a year later, two more. Then, another rock climbing accident that resulted in death. At that point I really started to question why I was involving myself in such risk in the first place. While I was on a highline I felt free, I felt challenged and I felt powerful. I loved the feeling of accomplishing something after pushing myself and trying so hard. So much fear was involved and overcoming that fear was when I felt invincible. But was it really worth it?

For a while, I was very well known within the slacklining and highlining community. (Please see my website www.slacklinedynamics.com if you would like to see some of my accomplishments). I was one of very few females who could walk a highline successfully, especially long ones. I was walking pretty long lines and was able to perform a variety of tricks in the exposure of lines hundreds of feet high. I could keep up with the boys. My ego was flying high and I felt like that was what I was meant to be doing and I thought that I would be doing it forever. But, the thing was....I wasn't making any money doing it. Nobody was willing to pay me to highline whether it was for a periodical, a tv show, a performance or whatever else it was. I kept getting the following words "Hey! We would love to feature you in our magazine/newspaper/article/tv show but we can't pay you....this will be great exposure for you!" At first I thought this was alright and I let it slide. At least I would get exposure so that in the future people would know who I was and then would be able to pay me! But years started to go by and I kept hearing the same story over and over again...."This will be great exposure for you! Sorry we can't pay but you will be on TV!". I was really starting to get frustrated and so the passion that I had for what I was doing started to dwindle as it became harder and harder to get by.

The two things that really started to separate me from the sport that I had once loved were the injury and death's surrounding me and the lack of pay. At one point I was living out of my car with my dog just so that I didn't have to pay rent so that I could actually continue to do what I wanted to do, which was make it as an athlete and an artist. It was an experience that I chose to go through because I thought it was my best chance.

I started to realize that perhaps my type of athlete and artist just don't get paid and that's how it's set up to be. In order to get attention and get published to "eventually" make money I needed to have photographer's, but when the photographer would then contribute their photo's to the media they would request money from whomever was publishing the story. A lot of the photographer's would say "Hey Emily, so if I do get paid a decent amount of money for this I will certainly split it with you". But alas, that didn't happen even once within the four to five years that I was seriously pursuing the sport. So all in all, the athlete or artist doesn't get paid but the person holding the camera and/or the publisher or magazine or TV show does? I was out there performing my art and ultimately risking my life and I all I was really getting was my ego stroked? There seemed to be something very wrong with that picture and it seemed that I was just getting jerked around, manipulated and used for someone else's benefit. Without the artist/athlete.....there is no story to begin with so how is it possibly that I wasn't getting compensated?

Eventually I became more than fed up with my situation and moved away from Moab, Utah. Nowadays, I hardly slackline anymore. I have hosted and taught at a few women's slackline events which is something that I still very much enjoy, but I rarely slackline on my own. Nowadays I work full time for a company in Arizona and am loving life more than I ever have before. Since I have fallen away from the "big dream" of making it as an athlete I am able to stop and smell the roses. Working full time I make enough money to support myself and my family. I have a nice roof over my head. I no longer stress about "getting this gig or that gig" or getting paid for a performance or an article. Instead I work for my own money and get paid fairly for it. I enjoy my days off more than I ever had and I experience such joy in the little things like my dogs, music, flowers, weather, my fiance, just a normal everyday hike or being safely on the ground rather than up in the sky.

All of this being said I think the main point that I would like to make is that there is something very wrong with how athletes and artists are compensated. The way that everything is structured really doesn't allow for these individuals to succeed. It takes way more work and hardly any compensation for it, and sometimes it involves risking your life. I know top-athletes to this day that do not get paid fairly for what they do and what they have accomplished. I wanted to bring some light to this and also explain why I have dropped off the radar a little bit. I still love the sport and love what it has given to me and my progression in life. I am incredibly grateful. Having been able to push myself to those limits really helped me develop as a human being in ways that I can't explain. I am a different person and a stronger person than I would have been without it. Perhaps someday in the future my excitement vigor for the sport will return and you will see me out there again but for now I am very happy where I am....on the ground. :)

PS- Oh yeah, and I've also taken a pretty big interested in the search for Sasquatch. Perhaps I'll start writing about that on my blog instead....