Don't Minimize Your Fears

Tag: life

  • Maybe you are not where you want to be…But, you are right where you can be “right” now….Trust the process

    Do you ever have the sense of where you are at right now is not where you want to be, yet you are confused on “where” that place is? It takes me back to when you are a junior or senior in high school and one of the questions that is generally asked when met is, “what are your plans after you graduate.” How many of you can relate to that question and how most of the time you have three answers…

    1. I’m not sure yet
    2. I want to be this with certainly at the moment
    3. I’m thinking of this

    Thinking back in my own life, I knew what I wanted to be – A Psychologist. Why? Because I wanted to help others. I wanted to understand the human brain. I wanted to “cure” the broken.

    For those of you who read my story – living with a parent where you witness manic depression at a very young age; seeing the pain, feeling their hurt, scared of what may happen to them, scared of what may happen to me…led me to wanting to fix others even if it meant losing myself and that was my path for the past 44 years.

    Pain, abandonment, fear in general, fear of the unknown, isolation, soothing others to protect them from their pain instead of soothing ourselves can lead us into a life of immorality, addiction, being easily manipulated and lack of self worth to name a few.

    Within the last month couple years I had experienced times of when I felt like my world was unbearable. I lost the love of my life and found myself back with a past partner who I knew was not a good person but he was the “comfortable” place.

    Within the last month, I have been completely losing myself in every way you can think of. I went into an emotional turmoil…doing this by denying what I knew was real and that was his betrayal although he would say it wasn’t happening. The communication or lack thereof, was no longer. In his presence I felt anxiousness, knot in my stomach, lump in my throat. I gave and gave with very little in return which put me in a financial hardship. I prayed hoping that he would learn to find God as much as I have so that he could be fixed from his entertainment of alcohol, gambling, and sinfulness which made me feel like I was losing spiritually. I lost physically by losing 10 lbs in 3 weeks time, losing interest in strength training, being around my loved ones and lack of sleep. I lost mentally when words wouldn’t come to me, I couldn’t even think of how to spell a word and my whole focus was not on the job I was to perform but watching my phone for the delayed texts back, the vague messages. He was the one that I couldn’t find myself to walk away from. Yet, I walked away from the love of my life.

    The last week has been tough. I started writing my blogs while still in that relationship hoping to share my story from where I was back in June of 2025. But now, I realize my story at that time was just a chapter of an ending that needed to take place to write the true healing process.

    For the last three weeks….I have cried, I have felt pain, I have begged for clarity, I have prayed, I have forced myself to get up each day, I have forced myself to eat, if even a little bit. I have dived into feeling the silence, the isolation, the thoughts of being alone.

    But this time is different; I understand the weight of my struggles, and I refuse to succumb to the darkness of depression and the harmful temptations of the past. I believe in my strength, and I know that I will rise!

  • The start of Shadow Work

    After leaving my counseling session, I felt a deep urge to visit the bookstore and pick up my recommended copy of The Book of Shadow Work by Keila Shaheen (which I highly recommend). It was no surprise that I was filled with a blend of anxiety and hope as I looked forward to starting this journey. I have been navigating life amidst so much pain, confusion, and loneliness, struggling to find my way through the suffering. Now, I feel a sense of readiness and a heartfelt plea to confront it all, believing that this could lead me to the relief I’ve been yearning for.

    That evening, as I immersed myself in the first few chapters of the book, a wave of relief washed over me. I found a deep connection in the author’s reflections on experiences that mirrored my own, and for the first time, I truly felt understood and not alone in my struggles.

    A very intriguing part that stood out as I read in the first few pages was this;‘Shadow work, or the act of confronting and embracing the shadow in a spirit of openness, curiosity, and acceptance, wasn’t just about managing or taming myself I wanted to deny or that I disliked. It was about achieving a fuller understanding of who i was, including my potential strengths and points of genus that I might have hidden from myself too. We must contact with and allow acceptance of our shadows. It’s not trying to escape or make it go away, rather, learning to love it as a part of you.’

    This is when I discovered that – To Truly Heal, you must Fully Feel.

    Stay with me as we navigate this journey of shadow healing together; I am here to support you every step of the way.

  • Session 3

    It’s that time again to face the unknown answers to questions I am about to be asked. I find my usual spot in the counselor’s office, this time with a whole box of Kleenex in my lap. I’ve been a complete mess since Sunday, with my heart aching from the uncertainty. The thought of hurting the one I love so much weighs heavily on me. I’m terrified of losing the one person I envision a life with; it’s not just my boyfriend I’m afraid to lose, but my best friend as well. In the three days since our “break,” I’ve lain in bed crying, pleading with God to grant me peace and show me what I am supposed to do with this break. I ask why it was necessary and seek clarity. As my counselor takes her seat across from me, she gently inquires, “How did the last week go?” A tightness grips my heart as I respond, “I asked him for a break.” The tears start flowing instantly, and I feel a lump in my throat, as if I’m choking, while my body trembles, succumbing to a full-blown breakdown. She quietly sits in silence, allowing me the space to compose myself, then gently asks, “Is that what you needed?” What? Needed? I feel so lost, and it’s hard to articulate what I really need. I look down at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. I whisper, “It doesn’t feel right, but I think it’s what I need.” She continues with another question, “Why do you think that?” Inside, I’m crying out for her to stop asking questions that I clearly don’t have answers to. Then, in a moment of vulnerability, I blurt out, “I am not deserving of his love. I cannot love him in the way he deserves to be loved.” Fear washes over me, and I’m left grappling with this overwhelming confusion.

    My counselor, who I appreciate yet sometimes find challenging, asks, “Why do you feel that way?” It’s another tough question, and I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. I respond, “Because the love I receive from him is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. He’s shown me patience, understanding, kindness, and a gentle touch—it’s beautiful but feels like too much for me to deserve. I fear that I don’t know how to navigate this, as it’s such a new sensation, and I worry that if things continue this way, I might unintentionally hurt him. I care for him deeply and can’t bear the thought of causing him pain. It feels safer for me to step back and let him go. Having been through my share of painful experiences, I would endure that pain for the rest of my life if it means he only has to experience it once.”

    Counselor said, “I would like to go back to your childhood. When I asked you about the good times you could recall, it seemed like there wasn’t much to discuss. Let’s take a moment to talk about the struggles you’ve faced.” It felt a bit daunting, but this was definitely easier than the next question. As I looked down at the ground, kleenex in hand, I began to share my story…

    “I spent alot of time alone and when I wasn’t alone, I felt the need to take care of everyone else by feeding their emotions. I felt the hurt for my mom but couldn’t truly understand what she was going through, I saw the pain in my brother for when he could never do anything right in my dads eyes and the image of my dad grabbing him my the neck and pushing him up to the door in the kitchen. I recalled the times when I was told I was adopted, santa was going to kidnap me, or putting my tricycle at the bottom of the mud road knowing it was too far for me to go to grab it. I saw a sister who became pregnant and was in pain from a boyfriend who wanted her to have an abortion only to return and given the silent treatment instead of love from my dad. I saw a newborn baby, my niece be born with a dyaphramic hernia with a lack of chance of survival. I saw a sister that hated me and could do nothing but compare what I had and she didnt. I saw a dad that I wanted to be loved by but always felt like I fell short. In ways that he allowed my uncles to make comments or touch me that made me uncomfortable, or chased around from a friend who wanted a kiss on the lips. I saw a brother who sexually molested me by rubbing his penis between my buttcheeks but knew I needed to remain silent because he was slow and he didn’t know better.

    I witnessed boyfriends who took pride in showing me off, feeling empowered by the attention I attracted from others. Yet, I grappled with feelings of being cheated on, abused, abandoned, and ashamed. I was driven by a deep desire to mend the aspects of our lives that were affecting my children and stepchildren. I felt it was essential to foster harmony with the ex-wives, understanding that it would ease the burden on the kids. I sought to improve relationships with my boyfriends and husbands to build bridges with their ex-partners, putting aside their differences for the sake of the children. I made the effort to set my own differences aside with my kids’ dad, not because it was simple, but because ensuring my children felt loved, seen, and heard was of utmost importance to me. I gave my heart fully to others, often without receiving anything in return, embracing a life shaped by this dynamic. It became my responsibility to maintain peace, to remain silent when necessary, and to shoulder burdens so that others could find relief. I grew accustomed to feeling unworthy, insufficient, or not chosen, and I accepted it as part of my reality”. And then I stopped talking.

    My Counselor gently says, “You have been through a lot.” In that moment, the tears begin to flow. No one has ever told me that I’ve endured so much or acknowledged how well I’ve held it together. She offers a suggestion: “I’d like you to try a method called Shadow Work. It’s a way to reconnect with your inner child, and many have found it helpful in understanding their decisions, shaping who they are today, and working through life’s challenges. It can guide you in releasing any guilt or shame and letting go of burdens that no longer serve you.” She notes down a book and its author for me, then adds, “Our time is up, but I’m truly proud of your courage in taking a break from your boyfriend to focus on finding yourself.” I look at her, my heart heavy with questions, “Will he be okay? Will he wait for me? Will he come back when I find healing?” She reassures me, “If it’s in God’s will and in divine timing, he will.” That reassurance is what finally wrapped me in a sense of peace as I left her room that day.

  • What’s Changed and Why is this happening?

    After session 2, I felt an urgent need to explore the feelings swirling within me. It was essential to gain clarity because I wanted to do the necessary work to lift this emotional burden. The undeniable truth is that I love my boyfriend, so I understood that it wasn’t love prompting my instinct to withdraw. Yet, I found myself grappling with the question: what was really at the root of these feelings?

    As I sat on my couch, reflecting on my journey, I was enveloped by a blend of frustration and hope, feeling emotionally drained yet yearning for change. After dedicating 25 years to my job, I’ve navigated the intricate web of relationships with unwavering resilience. Knowing my daughter and son are well and safe brings me a sense of peace that anchors me amid the storms of life.

    A profound realization flooded over me: I’ve devoted countless hours to caring for others, and now it’s my time to reflect on what I truly need. From my childhood, I embraced every emotion within my family, finding joy in supporting them, be it caring for my mom during her illness or managing household responsibilities like cooking and cleaning. Nurturing those around me—my boyfriends, my husbands, my kids, and my stepkids—has always been my instinct. Now, as my daughter embarks on her own journey and my son prepares to graduate, I find myself on the cusp of an exciting new chapter. This isn’t about leaving my boyfriend behind; it’s about honoring my own needs and dreams, carving out precious time for my growth and happiness. This newfound awareness has unveiled a tapestry of possibilities awaiting me in the future.

    My boyfriend came over on a Sunday afternoon, and after enjoying a walk in the park and sharing a crustless pizza, I found myself on the couch, feeling a heavy mix of discomfort and anxiety. Deep down, I recognized the difficult decision I needed to make, but it filled me with an overwhelming sense of dread. Rather than peace, I was caught in a storm of fear—the fear of losing him, of making a mistake, of the emotions that could spill over, and of losing myself if he were absent from my life. Taking a deep breath, I looked into his eyes and said, “This isn’t working.” Tears streamed down my face, and my heart felt so heavy. When he asked, “What’s changed?” it felt like a weight that was too much to bear; why was I expected to provide answers when I was still searching for clarity? Nothing had truly changed. I love him deeply and yearn for a future together, recognizing that he is still my person. Yet, I struggled to express the turbulence within me. “I’m trying to protect my daughter, who was hurt when she and her boyfriend were told they couldn’t join us for Thanksgiving. I want you to spend more time with your son, who really needs his dad given his challenging relationship with his mom. I just need some time for myself to rediscover who I am.” Those reasons felt so small and manageable, yet I questioned what the deeper truth was. I felt lost for words, but one thing remained clear: it wasn’t due to a lack of love.

    I walked him to his truck parked in my driveway, feeling the weight of the moment. As I held him tightly in a long embrace, uncertainty filled my heart—was this our last goodbye? I planted a gentle kiss on his lips and watched as he drove away, a deep ache settling within me. What have I just done? Why, God, why has this happened?

  • Session 2

    I find myself in the comforting yet familiar room with my therapist, who gently asks, “How are you doing today?” In that moment, I reflect, wondering how she perceives my state of being. It’s clear to both of us that I’m grappling with emotions, as evidenced by the box of tissues nearby, preparing for the wave of feelings that often accompanies such questions. When you’re in a vulnerable space, even a simple, caring inquiry like, “How are you? Are you okay?” or a gentle hug can feel like a dam breaking, releasing a torrent of tears. That’s exactly what unfolded; as I let those emotions surge forth, I paused to catch my breath and softly replied, “okay.” Deep down, we both understand that this is not the full picture, especially after the outburst of tears, yet she compassionately accepts my response. As she inquires about my week since our last session, I find myself feeling somewhat adrift, admitting I’m unsure if I remembered to brush my teeth before arriving. Eventually, I share how I’ve been gaining comfort from listening to Craig Groeschel from Life Church on YouTube and taking walks in the park to discover those small pockets of peace. Her supportive response of, “that’s good,” encourages me as she asks, “what do you feel in those moments?” I take a moment to gather my thoughts and convey that I experience peace, reassurance, and hope. His words resonate deeply with me, especially when he speaks about feeling lost, filling me with strength and the realization that I’m not alone in this struggle; he has traversed those feelings, and if he can find his way through, perhaps I can too. When she probes into my relationship with my boyfriend, I confess that I feel an instinctual pushback. It’s not a lack of love; rather, it’s the complexity of my emotions that I struggle to navigate. When he reaches out for closeness, I feel a wrenching ache in my heart, a knot in my stomach. I long to draw nearer to him, yet something within me holds me back. This recognition brings forth fresh tears. She gently asks what I wish to do with this feeling. In that moment, I find myself questioning why she asks so many questions and why she doesn’t just direct me toward what I should do. Ultimately, I reveal that I don’t have the answers. He is genuinely wonderful, loving, and caring—the best partner I could ask for—yet the turmoil inside me leaves me perplexed. I understand it’s not a lack of love, and that’s the only clarity I possess. I express how the thought of hurting him deeply troubles me, and it sorrowfully weighs on me to acknowledge that I might be causing him pain. I want nothing more than for him to find happiness; he deserves someone capable of mirroring the love he gives. I want to be that person, but fear envelops me. She then gently states that our time is up. Ugh, “What do you mean our time’s up? I am not finished. I need you to tell me what to do next. I crave comfort.” She suggests, “Should we plan on meeting again next week?” I nod in agreement, thanking her for her time as I leave the session with tears streaming down my cheeks, feeling emotionally drained and without more clarity than when I arrived.

  • My Story

    It was not until June of 2025 that I truly discover I had an ongoing issue, an addiction that over the years I tried to numb through anti-depressants, discussions with counselors, distract myself through keeping myself busy. And all that numbing, talking, busyness worked until it did not.

    I have been blessed beyond measures for so many things in this life. My biggest and most treasured are my two kids. For someone who was not sure she wanted kids, well God proved me wrong. And how thankful I am that he did.

    Growing up, I had this vision of being a wife and a distinguished career that was it. I wanted to make sure I did my part to provide for the life that I could share with my husband. I wanted to be the best wife. I wanted to take care of his every need, I wanted to take on his pain, cheer him on in his success. I wanted to be the person he knew would have his back one hundred percent and I was willing to do that through every bit of me with nothing asked in return.

    Isn’t that crazy? To think I wanted to give all that love without expecting any of that love back.

    My mom (strongest person I know), she became a manic depressant. I was around four. I recall the days when she could not get out of bed and I would find myself lying beside her, soothing her by rubbing her back as we laid in the dark bedroom listening to the tapes her psychologist gave her to help her relax.

    My dad (hardest worker ever) was not the most affectionate person and never had much to say and if he were here today, he would say that is exactly true.

    When I was younger, my dad, one that I wanted to make happy, make him laugh, make him proud, feel accepted, and feel safe with. I built this image of what I wanted him to be – yet it was not how it was. I do not say any of this out of disrespect – I say it for what I saw it as through the lens of my grown-up eyes.

    There were situations that happened – things dads should protect their daughters from – not laugh it off. There are times when dads should tell them to stop, but let it continue, there are times when dads should see fear, pain, and do whatever it takes to protect. But he didn’t.

    My family was poor, not because they did not work hard. My mom was a stay-at-home mom; my dad worked two jobs. It was cheaper for my mom to stay home to take care of us kids than to pay daycare and with having a brother who has disabilities played into another factor.

    I have been asked about my childhood when meeting with different counselors and for the life of me, I can’ t remember much from what I have already told you. My counselors would ask – what were some good times and as I sat there hoping something would come to mind…nothing.

    When I shut my eyes and really think back from what life looked like from age 4-10 it was – seeing hurt, feeling pain, self-entertainment, isolation. It was lonely. One day I was listening to the radio, and I heard this song from Michael W Smith – Place in this world. It spoke to me – It was like he wrote it from thoughts, words, feelings I had.

    Age 10 – my niece was born. I was so excited, never jealous. She got so much attention; my parents adored her. I used to watch my dad sit with her and although I was happy with the relationship and love he shared with her I wondered why he wasn’t like that with me?

    I got my first real boyfriend at the age of fourteen. I felt a sense of love. He was there for me, which made me feel known, seen, heard, until he cheated on me 2 years later.

    The hurt, the pain, the sleepless nights, the questions of why? What did I do wrong? I am not deserving of love. Do not allow myself to get close. My mom took me to the Dr, and I was medicated with anti-depressants. The doctor said give it 2 weeks and you should start to feel better and eventually it did. I went back to school. I started feeling like me again. The pain was starting to subside, but it still did not change my thoughts. From then on, I had many relationships and now thinking of it – I continued a pattern.

    Try harder for attention, look better, do things I did not want to do if it meant I would be “recognized, loved, held, accepted, if even for a little while. That felt safe. The bare minimum – that was all I need to have the comfort, closeness, safety and not forever but just for that moment.

    And if they wanted to stick around to show me they really cared, they really loved, they really wanted me in their life, I pushed back.

    I have been lucky enough to truly experience what I felt was three wonderful loves in my life. I have also learned to push them away by breaking them – intentionally until they left me. I thought by breaking my own heart first, I would be easier than them breaking mine.

    I was a sinner through numbness, anti-depressants, alcohol, and cheating. I had in my mind – anti depressants (numbed my pain so I did not feel it as much), alcohol (make me brave to do the things I knew I didn’t want to do but did, and cheat to drive them away if they wanted to stay, because staying was so foreign to me. 

    Anti-depressants robbed me of healing what I needed to be healed from. They numbed the pain but never took it away. They falsely made me feel I was okay when I was not. They eased the anxiety and worry without feeling it.

    Alcohol – Made me brave to do acts of sin. If I were under the influence, it would be acceptable, it was more enjoyable because I could not feel how I was just being used at the moment. It gave me courage to put myself in a position of danger not thinking about the outcome.

    Cheating – Pushed away those who loved me because it was too much.  It was a safe “fake love” because it would not last –  love lasting was my biggest fear – because that was not my life as I knew it. Love lasting meant I would be seen everyday – not just at the time that worked for them or through convenience. Love lasting meant they would keep me safe, protected, and that is also what I felt I did not deserve. Because up to now, the only one that did that was me, antidepressants, and alcohol. Which leads me back to November 2024, when I destroyed myself all over again.

    I was in a committed relationship of 3 years, 1 year engaged. Up to that engagement, it was amazing. The love was safe, strong, secure, happiness, longing, the most peaceful feeling I had ever experienced. He proposed on July 11, 2023 – most romantic engagement. So thoughtful, so prepared, on the beautiful beach of Anna Maria. The next day I was a mess. I felt withdrawn, sick, unsure, what just happened? Is this for real? Why is he doing this when eventually all the happiness we have is now going to end? This kind of love does not work like this for me…  And that is when it all began. Overthinking over analyzing, the fear of not living up to his standards, not good enough, feeling like things from the past repeated all over again. The ease of love was beginning to fade, I blocked it out by starting a full-on strength training again, I started to bring outside temptations, I felt myself pushing and pushing him away. I found the need to focus more on my work while putting him on the back burner. I choose distance instead of time.

    When it all began to feel like too much, yet he wanted to stay, I broke. My heart aching, tears falling, as I stood there looking at him saying I needed a break.

    But why?

    A break from safety? A break from patience? A break from security? A break from being seen? A break from being heard? A break from time together? A break from the most amazing, generous, giving, loving, honoring, diligent worker with an extraordinary love.

    What is wrong with me?  I Am Not Deserving of that Love.

    So, we took a break. My love for him remained, but I found peace. The peace of familiarity, the peace of isolation, the peace of not enough, the peace of not deserving, the peace of numbing, the peace of drinking, the peace of temptations.

    But heres the thing – when he finally walked away on June 29,2025 that’s when I realized….he wasn’t only walking away because he knew his worth, but because he saw my worth and he wanted me to begin to see it too – He Saved me!

    I did not feel that way at the time. I did not see what would come until my heart stopped beating in a way it had never stopped before. When the ache haunted me every second, when the tears fell with no holding back, when the only arms to hold me that used to be his was my own.

    When my peace was gone no matter what I tried to do to fill in the time; spending it with friends, family, through isolation, work, alcohol, antidepressants, I knew at that point I had a choice. A choice to continue to feel lost instead of found. A choice to numb instead of feel.  Or to take the path I needed to take back in my teens and that was to heal.

    Today, I am on my way to sobriety. Because I no longer want courage for things I know are sinful. I am gradually getting off the anti-depressants so I can feel the pain to heal, not numb it, and I have repented my sins of all cheating.

    The road ahead, although not easy, will be loving, safe, healing, happiness, truth. I am enough. I do deserve. I am worthy, I am exactly who I was created to be and now is to start living out that purpose.  I may not be where I want to be yet, but I am a lot of things I wanted to be two years ago.

    From my story – please know that we are responsible for our ending. We get to decide who gets to be there, how we feel and what we deserve. Confronting our fears is scary, healing through pain is not easy, but losing the love of your life is a nightmare. Do not lose yourself to “your” nightmare.

    Who has experienced something similar and wants someone to walk beside them through the excruciating moments? I am here, please reach out! You are not alone.