Nurturing and nourishing and deeply caring for others was a way of being for me, even as a little girl. What I didn’t have is what I would create and give to others. But in all the giving away of the love and attention I wanted, it was a double depletion. It would be years later when it would catch up with me

.My nervous system took a huge hit, and it manifested as anxiety. It is still with me, and I manage it, but in the beginning when I thought I was losing my mind it was quite prevalent in my everyday life.

I was in my early thirties, a shaking mess, a literal heap curled up on the floor with nothing around me but an empty house and a mattress. And a bundle of constantly firing nerve endings.

I left (escaped) that time of my life, and I had to rebuild from nothing. Just myself and the few possessions I had left and the memories (traumas) of the last two years. I don’t even know how long it took me to find myself again.

But the woman I was wouldn’t be making a comeback. She couldn’t come back if I was to truly live. Her death led to my first rebirth.

And it wasn’t a snap of the fingers and everything righted itself. It took years, and I’m still unraveling and re-threading myself together.

I needed a sacred space where I could feel safe. Something I sought from others I needed to find within me and have it mirrored around me. I would have to find out what brought me pleasure. But feeling at the lowest point of my life, I didn’t believe I deserved to feel anything good.

I had to crack myself open and dig deep.

~Lady J