The Messy Middle

It's been some time since I have sent a newsletter, and even longer for a blog post. I have been in the messy middle (which I guess most of life is, but there are times that just feel a bit messier), and I was struggling. This is vulnerable and I want to first warn that I discuss suicide and deep grief below, so if this is not the right time for you to read this that is okay. Next, if you or anyone who you know is struggling with suicidal ideation or are in crisis, please use ​the 988 Lifeline​; also let's just share this resource so we normalize these conversations and so we don't have to scramble when we, or someone we love, are in crisis. I also want you to know that I am well and supported.

My messy middle started this fall with a cold that flared my silent GERD in October, which for me means losing my voice, having a dry cough and lots of mucous. It's both difficult and gross. I got better with medication and some lifestyle changes for a few weeks. I took a 3 day immersion course with hours of restorative practices in November with one of my favorite teachers, Jill Miller, and I realized how deeply I needed rest. I, too, need to be reminded to do the work of slowing down and consciously resting. Then we had a death by suicide in our extended family and another cold, and within a week I lost my voice again and that lasted for a solid 5 weeks. Many of you were alongside me as I struggled to take days off initially and I fell into old patterns of “I’m okay, I’ll get through it.” Suicide is a shock, even if there are some warning signs. And my therapist reminds me over and over that “any grief stirs up all past grief.” This grief stirred up some really deep seated grief that was tucked away. All the while there was Thanksgiving, all the winter holidays, the darkest weeks of the year (based on length of day), a war raging in the Middle East, travel to see my dad in FL, and day to day life. Luckily, I had planned a lot of time off in December. But I struggled with all of this a lot - suicide is shocking and heart wrenching, grief is heavy and deep, losing my voice comes with a lot of emotion, and all of this stirred up childhood memories and trauma. I also reflected on the last flare I had in my early 20s when I was a very different version of myself, and then there was ton of self-doubt around my work ("How can I work without a voice?" "Who am I to be doing this work when I can't even take care of myself?"). Needless to say the layers of all of this was compounding and I was hit by waves of anxiety and panic in the coming weeks. And I did have many moments of joy, beauty, and meaning in between it all. Life is messy, and beautiful.

A picture of sunset after days of rain and wind felt analogous to the moments of feeling okay between the struggles. My throat loved the increased humidity, but traveling with a toddler is tiring.

I found support through many providers and practices: lifestyle changes I knew I needed to make but was reluctant to really ditch (goodbye coffee, alcohol, and social media, hello deep rest), talk therapy, breath work (guided and each morning on my own), restorative practices (yoga nidra, restorative yoga, and meditation), walking in the woods (and even saying hello to some of my favorite trees), tons of writing, connecting to the lunar cycle more intimately, listening to podcasts, medication from my PCP, manual therapies (massage, visceral manipulation, craniosacral work), using salves and essential oils, general grounding practices (walking barefoot, dancing, shaking, sounding, laying in a fetal position), and simply slowing down and lowering expectations. I really turned inward in a healing way and two key changes to my day to day were (and still are) that I got off of social media (Instagram for me) in mid December, and only checking the news once a day. Healing is a process and multilayered.

I share all of this to share my humanity, to share that knowing something is different than experiencing something, and to share that we all have days/weeks/months/years of struggle, not one of us is immune to the challenges and losses that come with life much as we may try to bargain our way through at first. I have come to this work because I have needed it and felt the power of it over and over in various times in my life. Your grief and struggles are likely not the same as mine, but you know grief and struggle in your way. I can feel alone in these times of struggle and not having a voice or capacity to reach out, yet I kept being reminded and reminding myself that "I am not alone." And neither are you. If you share the same loneliness in your struggles, please reach out to those in your support circles and turn to anything that reminds you of your humanity and connection - snuggle with your pets, people watch in a park or coffee shop, listen to a podcast, go for a walk, sit near a body of water, meditate/pray/connect to spirit in some way, dance, take a class of any kind. We are not alone.

I have used January to be a month of deep reflection and just standing in the doorway of the new year (a phrase and invitation that came from ​this wonderful podcast​ episode from Gathering Gold). As we step into February, pass the halfway point from winter to spring, and finally have a week of sunshine and blue skies just behind us, I am taking time to feel the warmth of the sun, to notice how much I brighten when I see a blue sky and the moon, and to very gently think about doing a bit more while still prioritizing my need for slowing down.

Here are a couple more podcasts that really grounded me through this time:

What helps you when you're in the messy middle, struggling and feeling alone? You can share with me, or just remind yourself and those around you because we all need the support, we all need each other, and we often forget how impactful a moment of connection can be.

I will be planting seeds this month and will be in touch when they begin to germinate and establish themselves. Here’s to continued growth and healing.

Erin McCabe