1 in 4

Lately I’ve been a bad wife. A bad friend. A bad daughter. And truthfully, a bad person.

And I’m rarely one to make excuses because, as a previous mentor once told me, excuses are only good for those who are using them.

But shit has been tough.

I am 1 in 4.

I never ever thought I would be a part of this statistic. It’s naive, I know.

But truthfully, I never thought it would be me. Because what woman thinks, “Welp, I’ll probably be that one in four. Count me in for having a miscarriage.”

I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy. I wouldn’t wish this on the one person I hate in this world. I wouldn’t wish this on ANYONE.

It is so so rough. I try so hard to be a positive person. To encourage others. Offer others kindness and compassion.

But that hasn’t been me lately. Because I was so damn bitter.

I was angry. I was sad. I was hurting. And I needed space.

Even as time passes. It still hurts. It’s still hard. And I’m not sure if I’ll ever fully heal. Part of me left that Thursday. A part of me I’ll never get back.

People don’t talk about this shit. And if they do, it’s behind closed doors. Which is fine. I wasn’t ready to share publicly for a little while after I miscarried.

Privately I shared. Privately I cried. Privately I screamed. Privately I cursed. For weeks upon weeks.

But I am not alone. I am one in four. And truthfully, I feel like it’s even more common than that. We just don’t share.

People only share their happy announcements. They only share the positive tests. They only share the gender reveals, the nurseries, the name reveals, the birth stories.

They don’t talk about how the doctors/nurses at the ER treat you like you’re crazy. They don’t talk about the emptiness you feel. They don’t tell you how fucking much it hurts, regardless of whether or not you heard the heartbeat. They don’t tell you how lax the GYN is when he tells you, you indeed are no longer pregnant. They don’t tell you about the random fits of tears that come pouring down your face. Nothing.

But, the more space I get from the loss, the more time I have to heal, the more I realize I am so fucking lucky. I have a husband that couldn’t have been more kind, loving, and supportive. I have parents that were beyond supportive and loving. I have friends who were incredibly kind and thoughtful. And their compassion and support has helped IMMENSELY.

Again, I would never EVER wish this even on my worst enemy, but God forbid someone does go through this, there are a few things I want you to remember…

1. Your loss is real.

2. You are not crazy.

3. You are allowed to cry—as much as you want, whenever you want, for as long as you want.

4. Your body is still worthy of love.

5. Your body is still capable of amazing things.

6. You are loved.

7. It is NOT your fault.

8. You are NEVER alone.

So, to everyone who I have not been as present for, I am sorry. I meant no harm. I meant no disrespect. I just needed time to get back to being “me”. And I still have my days where I’m working towards getting back to myself.

To all of you, thank you for understanding.

And lastly, with Mother’s Day quickly approaching, to all the mama’s with empty arms, happy Mother’s Day. You are so damn worthy.

Love,

Me🖤

On edge..like…always

Hi.

One of the multiple things people never talk about is how on edge depression and anxiety make you feel. All day for days on end.

Those days, you’re on the edge of tears. On the edge of screaming. On the edge of totally losing your sh*t. Literally all day long.

And I work really hard to control my emotions and not lose my sh*t but it’s really freaking hard.

Legit. I’m watching an episode of NCIS, and I just start crying. It’s an episode I’ve watched dozens of times. And there I am, crying. I’m writing out my gratitude for the day…and I’m crying. I’m petting my pups…and I’m crying.

It’s like all my emotions are a boiling pot of water constantly boiling over. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to simmer the boiling.

Then one day, I’m okay. I’m able to get through an whole episode of NCIS without crying. I get through my gratitude without crying. I’m actually smiling. I finally feel relief. I’m no longer boiling over. But there’s no rhyme or reason why.

I didn’t do anything differently. I didn’t get more sleep. I didn’t eat anything different. Nothing changed, yet everything’s different.

There is NO reason why I’m feeling “better”. I just am.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful for these days and I’ve tried everything under the sun to make these times last forever, but to date they haven’t. It’s just exhausting battling your emotions all day everyday for so long and then one day you’re feeling totally “normal”. It’s like total whiplash. You don’t know what to do or how to react.

For me, my best course of action is to patch up the wounds, let them begin to heal, and practice gratitude. Gratitude for the good days. Gratitude for the strength to get through the bad days. Gratitude for each day I am given. Gratitude for it all.

Some days I think that’s all we can do. Just say thank you and keep going. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Keep fighting. Just keep living.

Trust me, I know how hard it is, but I promise. It’s worth it. Don’t give up. Please. You are so damn worthy. And so damn loved. Even when it feels like it the least.

Sending you love, hugs, strength, and alllllllll the positive vibes.

Keep fighting, love. You are never alone.

Love,

Me

New Year, Same Struggles

Hi.

I have a love/hate relationship with celebrating a new year.

I love that it means new beginnings, new opportunities, more reasons to be grateful.

But I also don’t love that it means new beginnings, new opportunities, and more reasons to be grateful.

Anxiety makes all this “newness” really, really not fun. New beginnings mean things have to come to an end. Change is scary. New opportunities mean new chances to fail. Failure is scary. More reasons to be grateful means I’m just overthinking all of this and I don’t deserve all the good things coming to me because people have it so much worse than me. Thinking about what I’m taking for granted is scary.

What people don’t get is this is what us anxiety warriors fight every single day. And it sucks. Slap on some depression and it becomes a real party. It’s like throwing together the energizer bunny and a sloth and trying to make them walk the same speed. You’ll go crazy before that happens.

I’ve been struggling these last few weeks. It’s tough being the positive one all the time. People often say “show more than just your highlight reel”, but those are the same people saying “how to rant on social media—don’t”.

There’s such a difference between ranting and unpacking your sh*t how best works for you. When you’re in that place (you know what place I’m talking about), you don’t feel like you can reach out to anyone. You feel so alone. But at the same time, you’re falling apart and just need to share something with someone, or your going to implode. This is what brings about the “rants” people are so concerned about.

Why do you think I write in this blog? It’s a rant. It’s unpacking. It’s not burdening any of my friends or family, but provides me the release I need.

So, if you’re feeling like you’re so overwhelmed find what works for you. Make a post, message a friend, start a blog, start a podcast, go for a walk, pet your cat or dog, go for a drive. Unpack how you want to unpack. Life is TOUGH. New Years are TOUGH. Anxiety is TOUGH. Depression is TOUGH. But guess what…so are YOU.

This entry had no true purpose. I had no idea what I was going to write. And I don’t think any of it flowed. But I’ve been thinking about writing for days now, but have been so overwhelmed with self-deprecating thoughts, I had nothing to share. I’m still not sure I had anything productive to share. But here is my nothing to share.

So, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking the time. You rock.

Love,

Me 🖤

Judge Someone Else

Hi.

So, trigger warning—I’m going to say (write) some shit that a lot of people won’t like.

Unpopular opinion—I unfollow/unfriend anyone who posts about any politics on social media. I even unfollowed my own husband. (I still love him, I just unfollowed him on Facebook.)

And I keep seeing posts saying “If you unfollow/unfriend someone for their political beliefs you’re small minded/racist/ignorant/privileged/a terrible human being. And people are entitled to think that. They totally are. It’s a free country.

But you know what else? I’m free to disagree.

You know why I unfollow/unfriend all those people? Because that shit is negative, and I don’t need it. And I get it, just because I unfollow/unfriend doesn’t mean it’s not happening. But you know what? I don’t need it at the front of my brain. I really, really don’t.

What people don’t get is that I have that negative shit on my mind AS IT IS. EVERY DAMN DAY.

My depressions and anxiety manifests itself as the following: suicidal ideations, feelings of worthlessness, feelings of inadequacy, feelings of lack of control, feelings of being scared to be out in public, feelings of holding back tears, feelings of hatred towards self, feelings of despair, feelings of total loss of self, feelings of lack of confidence in the future, and so much more. I think of that shit nearly every f*cking minute of every f*cking day. Why on EARTH would I want to fill my feed with MORE of the battles I’ve been battling all damn day?

Imagine your worst fears. Now, imagine them filling your brain 24/7/365. Now, imagine adding to them by being connected/following people that plaster images/descriptions of your worst fear all of your timeline. Does that sound appealing to you? I didn’t think so.

So, next time you call someone small minded/ignorant/racist/privileged/a terrible person for avoiding watching the news, or unfollowing/unfriending you, take a second to think about why they’re doing it. Maybe it’s to SAVE THEMSELVES. Instead of continuing the hatred towards them that they already feel towards themselves, give them some grace. And treat them with kindness. I can almost guarantee, they’ll show you some kindness should they ever find you kicked down and beaten.

Love,

Me

Peace out, 2020. I think…

Hi.

So, part is me is beyond ready for 2020 to be over.

The other part of me is scared for 2021 to start.

I’ll be real. 2020 wasn’t great. Don’t get me wrong, I am VERY blessed for all the good in my life. I will never not be grateful for all the good that happened in 2020. My best friend got married. My other best friend announced that she is having a beautiful baby girl next summer. I got to spend a lot of time at home with my pups. I’ve gotten to spend more time with my husband. I have a roof over my head, food in my fridge, a job that pays me, and a family that loves me.

But alongside all the good, there’s been a lot of hurt. My position at work was eliminated. I’ve lost contact with many of my friends. My social anxiety is through the freaking roof from not being able to leave my house. My everyday anxiety is through the roof from all the unrest in the country. I’ve cried myself to sleep more times than I can count this year. So, yes. I’m happy 2020 is coming to an end.

But on that same token, I am scared for what hand 2021 might deal us. I didn’t really accomplish much this year and I have no goals set for 2021. I’m scared to set goals because who knows what the hell we’ll be able to do this coming year. Who knows what kind of insanity we’re going to be dealing with this year. And I don’t want to let myself down again.

Part of me wants to just crawl in bed and stay there forever. Ignorant to everything and everyone. Not because I don’t care, but because I don’t know how much more I can take. I don’t know how much more I’ll be able to withstand.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to know what’s ahead. There’s no fortune teller. No crystal ball. So, the way I see it, our only option is to walk into 2021 with our positive pants on. So, that’s what I’m going to try to do.

I am trusting that the universe knows what it’s doing. It knows my path and it will guide me in the right direction. I trust that I’ll find my place and I’ll know I’m fulfilling my purpose because of the signs the universe will be sending me.

All this to say, if you’re scared, it’s OKAY. Layered underneath my positive pants are my scardy pants. I’m just trying to let the positive prevail. That’s all we can really do when it’s all said and done.

So, remember, you are not alone. You were not alone in 2020. You will not be alone in 2021. You have never, are never, and will never be alone. I’m here. Right beside you.

We made it, love. Let’s keep going. 🖤

Love,

Me

Don’t let idiots ruin your day.

I don’t even know 𝒘𝒉𝒚 I’m writing this.

I’ve been going back and forth with posting this for almost a week now.

I knew I would get flack for writing this, people would talk sh*t, they’d say I was just doing it for attention, whatever. But I had to post this for the one who’s struggling. The one who hates this time of year because of all the food. The one who hates this time of year because of the family confrontations. The one who just doesn’t think they’ll make it through another holiday season.

I’m writing this for 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

Last week I went to the doctor for an annual check up, and the doctor said, “𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 10𝒍𝒃𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕.”

Talk about a punch to the gut (literally, gut). This year has been so hard for so many reasons. And yes, I’ve gained quite a bit of weight (way more than 10lbs) since March. But let’s call a spade a spade. 2020 has been SHIT for so many reasons.

Maybe you’re not in the same boat as me, but I have struggled with body image and weight since as long as I can remember. Legit, I remember being in elementary school and HATING hitting 50lbs… Now, much heavier than that I’m still struggling with body image and my “ideal” weight.

I was starting to feel better—I’m working out 6-7 days a week, eating healthier and although I wasn’t losing any weight, I was feeling better. And THAT made me happy.

Until, my doctor reminded me of that number on the scale. And frankly, it knocked me down. I cried that night before bed. And I got up and worked out harder the next morning.

And then I reached out to some friends and they brought me back to center. 𝑺𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔, 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔.

They helped remind me that there are SO MANY worse things that could have happened than gaining 10lbs. This year has been hard on most people. We’re living a new way of life. We’re learning a new normal. And if 10lbs is a part of surviving 2020, 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔.

So, in case you’re in the same spot I was last week, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓. Regardless of the number on the scale, the size of your leggings, the love handles over those jeans. 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹. And you always will.

Don’t let idiots ruin your day, especially your Turkey Day. Love you. Exactly as you are.

Love,

Me

What they don’t know…

Hi.

People message me all the time with the sweetest messages about my positive posts on Insta and Facebook. And it truly warms my heart and brings a smile to my face. I love love love that my posts bring positivity and light to others lives. Hearing THAT brings positivity and light to my life. But there’s a lot people don’t know.

What they don’t know is I’ve been meaning to write for a while, I’ve just been totally and completely uninspired.

What they don’t know is that’s actually putting it mildly. What they don’t know is that I’ve been totally down and out lately. What they don’t know is my depression has definitely gotten the best of me these last few weeks.

And before you ask, no, nothing tragic has happened, unless you want to count the end of summer as tragic. I’m just depressed. This always happens this time of year—one of the fun parts of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). Yes, it’s a real thing. It’s not just something people make up around winter time.

But I don’t even think my SAD has even really kicked in yet. I think I’m just having a rough time.

Things are good at home. Things are good at work. My family is healthy. My pups are happy. I’m just…not.

And there’s nothing anyone can do, so I’m not posting this for attention. I just have seen a lot of prayer and positive vibes requests across my timeline lately and I want to reach out to each and every one of them and let them know that if they’re struggling, they are not alone.

However many months into this bullsh*t, it’s okay for us to have rough weeks. It’s not assumed it’s going to get easier just because it’s our new “normal”. Whatever the eff that means.

So, if you’re like me and you were finally doing well only to have it all fall apart again, it’s okay. You are not alone. I’m rebuilding right beside you.

What they don’t know is I love you. You matter. You are more than enough.

Love,

Me 🖤

1-800-273-8255

You matter. You matter. YOU MATTER.

Make the call. Send the text.

It might not seem worth it right now, but trust me, just do it. Reach out. Ask for help.

Hell, message ME.

Don’t let that darkness consume you. You are so damn worthy.

Call- 1-800-273-8255

Love,

Me

Stuck in the Middle

Hi.

Lately I’ve been feeling seriously stuck. Stuck in how I’m feeling about the world. Stuck in how people say we should be acting, reacting, thinking, advocating, fighting, rioting, etc.

I’m stuck in the middle. Stuck between feeling passionate and feeling muted. I have really strong feelings about shit that’s going on these days, but with everything going on, I don’t feel like I have the right to share it. But because I’m not sharing it, it comes off like I don’t care. But I do care. I care a lot about all the shit that’s likely to start a Civil War Pt. 2. But I want to keep those feelings to myself because I don’t feel like arguing. I don’t feel like being beaten down by people with opposite opinions. Everyone has an opinion, and I care about everyone’s opinion, but I don’t want to be suffocated with it—which is all that happens when you share your opinion on social media.

You’re like a metaphorical punching bag getting the shit beat out of you, while also throwing yourself in front of punches aimed at your friends and family who are also trying to respectfully share their opinions as well. Frankly, I’m over it. And I have been for a while. I don’t remember the last time I shared anything political on my pages, and I don’t plan on sharing anything political for a long time to come.

It’s not worth the bullying. It’s not worth the pain. It’s not worth the tears. It’s not worth the anxiety attacks. And it’s not worth the BULL SHIT people put you through when you try to express your opinion.

Because in reality, everyone has an opinion, but no one wants to hear it—they just want to brainwash you with their opinion that they deem factual.

So, here I am. Stuck in the middle. With lots of passions and nowhere to express them.

So, if you feel stuck in the middle, I hear you. I see you. I feel you. Your opinion matters. You matter.

Love,

Me ♥️

Really not sure…

Hi.

I’m really not sure what I’m going to write about.

I’ve been feeling drawn to write for weeks, but just don’t know what to say because I don’t want your time to go to waste. But I think that my lack of what to say something that needs to be heard (read).

I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING. I don’t know how to feel with all the bull shit going on in the world. I don’t know to feel with all the depressing shit surrounding me. I don’t know how to feel about where I am in life. I don’t know how to feel about where our country is going. I don’t know where I am going next. I don’t know who is beside me now. And I don’t know who will be there beside me moving forward. I legit don’t know ANYTHING. And it SUCKS feeling this way.

It’s like feeling lost and alone and scared and mad and sad and confused ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

And I’m not saying all this to get messages saying, “You’re not alone.” And I’m DEFINITELY not saying all this to get messages about politics and other bull shit. I’m saying this because I can’t imagine I’m the only one out here feeling like this.

I’m close to tears (if not in tears) every single day. I’m so overwhelmed. I try to delete all the Toxic Tiffany’s off my timeline, but it’s hard. I know it’s all about having the right mindset and practicing gratitude. But when I can’t get out of bed in enough time to shower every morning, much less do affirmations and gratitude, I struggle. I know I need to get up earlier. I know I need to work out. I know I need to eat healthier. I GET IT, KAREN. But if you don’t have depression in the way I do, you don’t freaking get it. You’ll never get it. And truthfully, I hope you never do. I hope you never have to feel the pain and anguish I feel every freaking day. I wouldn’t wish this shit on anyone.

All this to say, you’re not alone babe. This rant probably didn’t accomplish anything for anyone other than letting me release my anxieties, but I do hope that someone, somewhere, reads this and feels a little bit of comfort that they’re not alone on this shitty ride called 2020 that we’re stuck on.

Take care of yourselves.

XX,

Me