Blog: Detour From Hell; The Mind of a Hot Mess

Strength looks different to different people. My form of DIY therapy —just me, my thoughts, and whatever my Spotify DJ decides I’m emotionally capable of handling. Now I am comfortable with the apps and how it works so my anxiety is not high. I actually am much less anxious when I stay busy working. Some days the sentimental songs help. Some days they ruin me. And some days I feel guilty skipping them, like the universe is judging me for not being sad enough. But lately, I’ve been letting myself skip them more often without having those guilty feelings, because I just don’t want to feel sad at that moment.

I’ve spent countless hours replaying every part of my life like a reality drama—or perhaps a horror series—I never agreed to film. I think about the things I said and the things I didn’t say; feelings I swallowed because I didn’t know how to express them; choices I made because I didn’t know how to do anything else; and memories that appear out of nowhere like uninvited guests, triggered by the most minor things that bring back awful thoughts.

Everything changed the day Dustin died. I didn’t just lose him — I lost the version of myself that existed before him. I am not the same person I was in 2018. It was not the same life. Extreme grief rewires you in almost every way you can imagine. There’s no “bouncing back.” You learn to walk on different legs. Grief is a topic I will write about soon, but its such a loaded topic, I am sure I will have to break it out into multiple posts. I need more time for that subject. But it will come, although you will hear me discuss it quite a bit in the meantime. I also had a lot of trauma prior to his death, but nothing had affected me like this did (domestic violence, addition, and mental health has been a part of my story for 35 years).

During that time, people constantly told me how strong I was, but I was breaking down and being as bluntly honest as I could—because that takes strength too. It didnt make me any less or weak. But for at least a year, I cried every single day, often at work, which created its own complications. Most days it was just silent tears, barely noticeable except to those who looked closely, but even that made others uncomfortable. It might have been closer to two years, and even now, certain topics trigger tears automatically, regardless of how happy I am. The people that continued to praise me for my strength, they never saw the nights I collapsed, the exhaustion of forcing myself through a world that suddenly felt foreign, wearing a mask I never asked for. Life kept moving while mine had stopped, and I had no idea what I was going to do—there was no light at the end of the tunnel. People are quick to praise someone’s strength after trauma when they seem to be coping, but they rarely see the full reality: you can look strong and still be struggling. I fought hard to appear okay, and yes, I was strong in my own way, but most people only see what you let them see.

The reality is that being strong is not always a pretty sight. Today, I continue to deal with extreme anxiety and the symptoms of Complex PTSD (CPTSD) on a daily basis. I often wake up with my hands and feet drenched in sweat, which is one of my telltale signs of anxiety, for me personally. I constantly question myself and find myself crying unexpectedly. Despite these struggles, they do not diminish my strength as a person! I just have to learn how to work with this new used brain I have.

A few months after his death, I openly asked for supportive friends during a meeting—people who would want to connect with me, without any ulterior motives. After that meeting, I found myself surrounded by a community, and it marked the beginning of my recovery family in NA. And that was not an easy thing to do; far out of my comfort zone.

And today, I am doing better than I have, maybe, in my entire life. Yes, I have A LOT of challenges to overcome. But I am so very excited about the new business, this blog, and the possibilities we can explore! I have already been networking. May even have a possible first gig (offering the first few for free for practice)! I have already had so many comments made about how awesome it is that I have left corporate to do something I care about. And I agree, it is pretty freakin awesome, and I couldn’t be more excited about what impact we can have. I would read articles about other women doing it all the time, but never thought I would get the opportunity. But it’s happening! However, the truth is I am absolutely terrified. Terrified of failing. Terrified of not rebuilding fast enough. Terrified of losing stability again. Terrified that every time life gets quiet, the next disaster is already forming. Happiness almost gives me anxiety in a way because I am waiting for the next shoe to drop; because they have never stopped before so why would they now? But that doesn’t make me any less strong. Because even in the face of fear, I am doing it anyway!

Whenever anything related to Dustin comes up, it acts as a trigger that often upsets me. I mean just about anything. This could involve receiving new information, working on the process of seeking justice for him, seeing a picture, or simply hearing a song. Just because I have found a new partner does not mean I have stopped loving Dustin; that couldn’t be further from the truth. I am just as committed to seeking justice for him now as I was the day he died. I still have his phone for the police, should they ever decide to do their job, and I believe that is all they will need. I’m just waiting for someone to hear me—truly hear me. If anyone that has any contacts in KS reads this, has some kind of reach or contact, and cares enough about these senseless fentanyl poisoning murders that are labeled as accidental suicide overdose, please contact me! I started to make progress with a couple of people, but in each case, they eventually stopped responding, leaving me back at square one.

Justin eventually came into my life, and I had all guards up. But he accepted me at my lowest, the red flags never came, was incredibly patient and today he loves me more than I could ever ask. I have alot of baggage. But he doesn’t care. He never has. And we are a team. He is an amazing man. When I thought it was hopeless, he was the one who talked me out of that mindset. When I came home from getting let go the last time, I will never forget what he said to me, “I don’t care how little you make, or how much the education will cost, figure out what you really want to do with you life that will make you happy. Figure that out.” I had never had that opportunity. He is the person who is supporting my career change, literally. And he seems happy to do it. I used to think accepting this help would make me weak, because I am used to being so independent. Accepting help does not make me weak. And I had spent so many years taking care of other people. Why is it so bad to let someone help me while I pivot into something that could be spectacular for both of us!

As a result, I started brainstorming, and the conclusion I reached was quite unconventional. I mentioned to him that it felt too outside the box, I didn’t know if I would be able to get enough business, and then he had another perfect response, and he said, “I don’t think you would ever be happy inside the box. You’re meant to be outside of it.” That also meant so much to me. He makes me a stronger person and he was right. I am already getting things going with the business that i wasn’t even sure could happen, and I may have my first client! Accepting that help and then working my ass off to figure out what I wanted, that took strength. And doing what I am going to be doing is going to take strength…… and alot of faith . I will never doubt that I am a strong woman, because that is a fact. If I am still alive, breathing, and standing….. I’m a damn strong woman.

If you have been able to relate to anything in this, remember you are not alone. You’re living your life. Just do the best you can and don’t let others’ opinions on how you should live your life affect your decisions if you know it’s not right for you, because no one knows what you are going through until they are in your shoes. Love yourself. As long as you keep going while your struggling, you are one strong ass human being and probably don’t give yourself the credit you deserve! No matter what, don’t give up. PLEASE – don’t give up – I am proof there is always another option. So I have a call to action for people who can relate:

• If your grieving, or could relate to my post in any way, give yourself permission to heal the way you need to heal. And I challenge you to do at least one of the following:
  • Let yourself grieve without apologizing or explaining
  • Tell someone the truth today if your not feeling ok
  • Show compassion – to yourself and others
  • Let’s try to change the way we respond to grief — starting at workplaces since we spend about a 1/3 of our life there
  • Stop judging grief – start learning about it
  • Choose empathy over assumptions

Just remember, it’s ok to not be ok. It doesn’t make you any less strong. You’re just human. Emotions are human. And grieving is healthy. Let’s try to normalize not shaming people who show emotion. Life sucks sometimes. And as much as we want to keep it to ourselves, that isn’t always possible, or good for anyone around. So please, share with someone you trust if you are struggling. And know that even if your surviving isn’t the prettiest….. your f**king surviving, which means you are strong! Because it is not easy to live in today’s world.

“It takes courage to decide to live” – Les Brown (and I take that quote quite literally).

Talk to you soon for next weeks all over the place rant 💚 (may be on subject — may not 🤷‍♀️I try though lol). Love you all – stay safe – love yourself — do something to care for yourself, something you would enjoy, even if its just a soothing bubble bath…… which is next on my agenda! Good night everyone! Have a great week!