It isn’t that I lost my voice

I stopped writing. Here and in my paper journals. I stopped sharing everything. There are no pictures of anyone anywhere that you can see unless I let you. I stopped everything that I thought used to give me power. I stopped being so loud. I’ve disassembled my platform, I’ve turned off the mic. But I didn’t lose my voice. And I am not afraid, I just learned the strength of quiet and the strength of silence.

I have thought about the, “one door closes and another opens” idea. It’s true, I guess. As I closed-door after door this year I wondered what the new doors would bring. But if I was honest, I’d have to tell you that a lot of those closed doors didn’t open anything. There was no new door to go through. They just ended things I didn’t need anymore. And when the needs were filled, there wasn’t a new need to take the old needs place. There was just peace with the ending. And I’ve had a lot of ending this last year. I have chosen to not have such a loud voice. Instead, my voice is quiet, peaceful and privileged. You don’t get to hear it anymore unless I truly want you to. It is my new voice. My new door.

I have found a prize in privacy.

Where there was once pride in sharing, in bragging, there is now just no desire to share. I don’t know why. Maybe it was that someone took all these words and stole and twisted and molded them into a platform of lies. Maybe, it’s because I found it just so damn easy to find all the pain and mean on the internet and that taught me, there is beauty in silence and that there is peace in privacy. I am not sure. It feels safe again though. Even as the end of the month approaches and I wonder if the peace will be shattered, I feel safe, for the first time in a long time.

Christmas is here. We spent the Thanksgiving holiday with my Colorado brother and his family. When Kevin died my heart broke into little pieces. It was the beginning of the truth for me that evil often wins. But within those shattered pieces I found a new piece of my family. One that had missed for a very long time. I got nephews and sisters and brothers and while there is nothing that can describe the pain of losing a loved one to mental health: I am so grateful for what I gained because of it.

And it was truly a great holiday. Probably the best one I’ve had in a while despite some hand, foot and mouth and other weirdness. We did all the fun we could in the short amount of time we had. I even got a sleepover with my nephews. Those memories are forever mine and I am so grateful. This door closing was one of those few, another opens, moments. I get Sam and Danielle and Casey and Cameron. And while I wish I had an even fuller house this holiday, I will take what I can get with a grateful heart.

I think I’ll start writing again though. About what? I am not really sure. Mental health? Maybe. It feels a little more vulnerable than it used to, to share my journey. Where I found it easy to share before, hoping it would help someone down a light path, I now know that people, most people, speak a little different. And that evil can find ways to twist words and make completely innocent words into daggers. And while the good won here, it still makes for painful memories. But I miss writing and I feel inspired these days to say all the things I am thinking.

I’ve begun the “note jotting”. The little ideas scribbled on random papers. The inspiration I felt when I FINALLY got to visit the MET in New York. The humility I felt when someone looked at me and told me that I helped keep them out of the sad and let them feel not so alone. I feel inspired to find the medium of oversharing and letting go; which is what writing and blogging have always done for me.

My new friend sent this to me this morning. It’s funny because everything this speaker says has sort of becoming the theme of my “new” life. Please take the time to watch it. I hope there is some room in your “fuck budget”. Sometimes I am so grateful for thoughtful new friends. And it came at the perfect time to remind me of where I am.

Happy holidays and all that jazz. I hope to be here more.

Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

We walk together

This was for you, Kevin.

I have been trying to sit down and write about the walk before I lost all the feelings in the busy-ness that my life has recently become, I just haven’t been able to make the time to do it. It’s been two weeks. I still can’t seem to shake the feeling of sadness that there were 7000 people there walking to prevent suicide. They all, every single one of them, was so influenced by the loss of someone, that it drew them to the Rocky steps to try and end it. We all lost someone. Or many someones. It was profound to see. And also a club I never wanted to be a part of.

I was glad we went. And I am thankful for my team.

We walked for you, Kevin. And we walked for Julia and for Wendi and all the others we’ve lost.


This is the busy season. And it’s been really busy. I think of my friend Stacey as I write that who just posted something about everyone saying that they’re so busy all the time. I think, “hmm, am I one of those people” who complains about a busy they’ve created themselves and then wear like a badge of honor? Because nope. That’s not me. I am busy but I don’t want that honor.  It made me think though about how I can, as a person with a lot going, carve out time for the little things. Coffee with friends. Getting back to the gym every day versus just the days we aren’t filled to the brim with to-do. Even just taking the time to make sure my house is in an order that doesn’t make me feel crazy! And it’s making me feel right now!

I never want to be the “winner” of busy. Even when I am. I also never want my busy to get in the way of my relationships with the people I care about. It makes me think of Kevin and the week he was gone. He’d messaged and I was “too busy” to call. I was rushing out to vote and then, I forgot. Too busy and now too late.

Don’t be too late because you’re too busy.

October 1st we walked in honor of my brother. Suicide is preventable. Tell your story. Tell mine if you need to. Let’s stop this together. e

Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.

Fluid

This was definitely, one doozy of a week. Today, it’s all over. The past.

On Friday, of all the days of the week, I found a small lump on my left breast. This is not something out of the ordinary. I check, a lot because when I was a little younger, I’d had a few lumps and bumps here and there. I remember the doctors saying, “cylinder normal, marble bad” and so as I grazed my fingers over the spot again, I felt my eyes well up. Of course, being Friday at 9 pm, there was nothing I could do but wait and cry and I did and then I called the first thing in the morning for my Wednesday appointment.

Six months ago. I might have never made the call. I’d have had a)no health insurance and b) no strength. I have both now.

The midwife doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about. I’ll go for an ultrasound and, I think, a mammogram, for peace of mind and then this also will be in my past. I do not have breast cancer; I am not 1 of 8.

It is my new year.

I am no longer willing to be a victim. I am going to use my voice and my brain to save myself. I am no longer waiting to be saved. Relying on people to help me; begging through tear-filled eyes, “help me”. That didn’t work out for me. Or did it? It got me here. To this place where I feel strong and able. Where I still occasionally doubt but have the whereabouts to ask questions. Even when it inflames those who are asked. Maybe it did work out for me. Maybe, it helped me to stop being so weak. Sure, it was ugly and cruel and everything in-between but maybe, it was my awakening? I am not really sure. I will take it for what it is. I felt sad that no one rushed to “save” me for a moment. But in thinking back, I saved myself. Because I didn’t roll up into a ball on the floor, I became strong and not a fragile, shattered thing, I didn’t because that’s the thing I never wanted to be.  I chose to be the victor and not the victim. And while I fully believe I am actually a victim here, I don’t want that title. So if you do? Take it. Because it means nothing to me anymore.

That’s all I can do.

Anxiety Monster

For once in my life, I feel like my anxiety is under control. I think that a cocktail of therapy and the right meds have tremendously helped but I also, fully believe letting go of the things that fed my anxiety monster, have helped too. I let go of the fear. I let go of the worries about what people think. I let go of all the people who didn’t really matter. But not before setting up boundaries even if they were extreme ones. And I listened to my therapist when she said to be careful of setting too many boundaries and very tall walls. That taught me all things are fluid.

Life is fluid. It’s all about fluidity.

My life is fluid.  My circle is ever-changing. There are people and things I never expected to be there and I have lost things and people I never thought I had to let go. I have happy and sad but I am no longer counting the steps to make sure my path is the right one. I have chosen to be fluid, flexible and to go with the flow. Like a river, I am both following the route created for me and ever so often pushing through the mud for a new pathway.

Life is fluid; like the river. I am a river.

I’ve really started to focus on completing my tasks for my doula training. Oh my, the reading. For as smart as I am, it’s hard to keep what the books say. I don’t know when that happened. I used to devour books and remember ever words as if they were my own stories. I think my brain has just been so full of gross that it couldn’t remember. And as I let go of the gross, the good stuff will stay put. I have so many books to read and I am actually looking forward to reading them. It’s going to take me what feels like forever but I am going to get it done. This is for me. A passing of the torch perhaps. Providing women, good, strong women the support they want and deserve and I feel like, with my ability to see all corners of the childbirth world, I can and will be an asset to all. I am excited. I am ready to start. I am tired of waiting for the what next. I think yesterday was the last day. The end. It’s over.

It is a new year. Like fresh water. The rain. It’s over, it’s a new year.

 

 

 

 

Hi! I’m Gail, the voice behind Mimicking Motherhood. I started blogging after the birth of my 2nd child as a way to connect with far away family. Things have definitely changed since then. Now, mama to five, this is a place to help connect with other mothers, who feel like me.I love to make and write all while trying to figure out how to be myself in the world of anxiety and depression. Glad you stopped by.