Witness protection

As the nerves slowly take over and I can no longer function

I concentrate to keep my body from revolting

It takes everything not to scream and run for the door

My mind begins to wander with a million what if disaster scenarios

And I am brought back to myself

my fears washed away when my eyes meet those familiar eyes

I am blessed with the all reassuring smile

that confirms everything will be okay

What more?  Check out the daily post


I can’t stand me


I can’t me…..

when my ego runs wild, doing it’s best to convince me of all the ways I am broken, lost, damage, no good, not worthy.  Feeding my fears, insecurity by insecurity.  Unrelentless judgment (of everyone and everything) Ridicule.  Shame and guilt.  She’s can be cruel and heartless.  The constant reminders of all the reasons why I must do and be and on and on she goes…

That’s when I can’t stand me.

Want more?  Check out the Daily Post

Reason to believe



She exists.  Even if she is a faint memory.  She is always there.  Watching.  Waiting.  Wishing.  She is the angel you forget about.  The angel you cling to.  Because at the end of everyday, there are those who love unconditionally.  Those who make the world a better place.  And then there are those who eagerly await your return.  All because of love.  She is there.  She is always there.  Sometimes, you just have to look.

Want to read more, check out the daily post!

Home of my Shadow


I have wrestled with this blog.  Her purpose.  For you see it has changed.  It started as a venue for me to stretch and grow as a writer, which she still is.  However, I realize this blog is the home of my shadow.

Here dwells my darkness.  My fears.  Insecurities.  The things I hid under the floor board or tuck away in the closet.

Here my demons are allowed to run free.  To create chaos.  To be seen and heard.

Here lives my shadow, free to express it’s self.  To be part of me.

Here I am whole.



In the hurried frazzledness of life

The constant state of motion

Never stopping

Always going

I miss the sunrise

The sunset

The sun and wind against my skin

I am caught in the trap of living

Forgetting that I am in fact alive

Always moving

Always running

Afraid to stop

Afraid to feel

There is safety in movement

It’s time to be still

And to be again




Today is the first day, another beginning.  Another way we (I) find myself committing to a list of to do’s, goals, aspirations and intentions.  And sometime along the way, I get lost.  I forget.  Get to busy living life.  Yet, I am not really living am I.  I get too busy going through the motions and forget everything I mapped to accomplish.  I want to say this year is different.  That I have a system in place.  That feels clique. Old.  Warn out.  As if I have heard it before.  Because I have.  That is not going to stop me.  I am committing.  Committing to writing.  To creating.  To making a difference.  One day at a time.  One step at time.  Here’s to new starts.  Here’s to hope!

What will you commit to doing this year?

New Year’s Wish


Who better than a writer to create a poetic inspirational New Year wish. I couldn’t have said it better, so in the words of Neil Gaiman, I wish you in the coming year…

“Be kind to yourself in the year ahead.

Remember to forgive yourself, and to forgive others. It’s too easy to be outraged these days, so much harder to change things, to reach out, to understand.

Try to make your time matter: minutes and hours and days and weeks can blow away like dead leaves, with nothing to show but time you spent not quite ever doing things, or time you spent waiting to begin.

Meet new people and talk to them. Make new things and show them to people who might enjoy them.

Hug too much. Smile too much. And, when you can, love.”

Been in a fog

I have wanted to write

Longed to write

So many ideas flowing

and then, I sit down and nothing

feverishly I reach for my notes

and nothing

go to the writing books


inspiration lost


and fog sets in

I sit and wait

sit and try

and the words feel forced

feel contrived and inauthentic

My head swimming in a fog

No end in sight

I set deadlines

They go unmet

I know what I want to write about

And yet I cannot seem to find….

I am blind

I am lost

I am tired

And I long to create

To write

My characters cry to me

Visit my dreams

Talk to me

And yet when I sit to write

They are lost in the fog

So I set intentions

And they go unanswered

I have given up trying to force the words

The fog will lift

And when it does

I will be waiting

Sitting at my computer

And the words

The people

The places

Will find me

And I will write my story

It’s in there

It is the seed

Waiting to grow

Waiting for the spring

Waiting for the sun

So I wait

Any day now the fog will lift

I can see the sun peeking through

Ode to a friend


I have this friend, she was like my sister

From lifetimes ago

Our relationship dwindled

Miles and people separated us

And still to this day

I love her

I miss her

Sick and twisted

Right or wrong

We were in it together

Until I realized that I could no longer feed my sickness

Feed her sickness

Our sicknesses fed off of each other

Poisoning us and everything around us

And despite everything

The hurt feelings

The broken hearts

The pain

I still love her

I still miss her

Because she stepped into my darkness

And I her’s

And we still loved each other

Now forced conversation

Walls built high

A longing to go there

Be there

And a knowing of the disaster it brings

And in my heart

I long to see her happy

To see her at peace

I have found my peace


I have found my happiness without her

Something I never imagined

Hopefully someday

She can join me

Beat her demons

Step into the light

And when I see her

And briefly talk with her

A piece of me



To step back into the darkness

To be swept away by the crazy

To be in that place again

And so I extend my hand

Invite her in

Not knowing will I stay sane or go crazy again



As some of you know, when I am not writing, I am a therapist.  I have been contemplating changing my about page on my therapist site, let me know what you think.  Thank you!

You want know I can relate. That I get it, I understand you and your story. Everyone’s stories are different. And at anytime you have the power to rewrite it, how exciting is that? So, here is my story. I hope it helps you on your journey.

I have been sensitive to others moods and emotions since for as long as I can remember. My mom says that she knew ever since I was small I would be a therapist. I had a knack for it. For what felt like forever I confused my feelings with others feelings. I readily took responsibility for others emotions, actions, emotings and projections. Adding to that unpredictable parental moods, created an anxious child. Anxiety would be become a constant companion, for several years.

As a really small child I talked to dead people, mainly my paternal grandmother who haunted my childhood house. I also had an extremely vivid and wild imagination. I loved creating and playing pretend. As I grew, I learned talking to dead people, knowing things in a psychic manner, and being highly imaginative wasn’t very cool, and thus I suppressed it.

My parents did the best they could with the skills they had. However, their childhoods’ were tragic and dysfunctional. Interesting how the wounds of parents transfer to their children.

After my parental grandfather died when I was in the fourth grade, I began my relationship with depression.

When I was 12, my parents divorced after 20 years of marriage. Unable to cope and struggling with depression, anxiety, and puberty, I turned to food to deal. I went from 5 foot nothing and 90 pounds to close to 200 pounds. Towards the end of high school, my eating disorder morphed from binge eating to bulimia and from bulimia to a mix of anorexia, bulimia and over exercising. The only relief I gave myself was pregnancy. I loved being pregnant, it gave me an excuse to eat, not to exercise, not to starve and not to purge. When my daughter was two years old, my eating disorder once again was in full swing, I went through cycles of binging, purging, starving and exercised on average 2 hours a day. Until, one day, I was purging and started to choke. I couldn’t breathe and all I keep thinking was my daughter is in the other room, she is going to find me dead and grow up motherless. I knew at that moment things had to change. Thus began my road to recovery.

Even though, I wasn’t engaging in eating disorder behaviors, I still struggled with self esteem and coping with emotions. I turned to others to dictate how I should be. Entering bad relationship after bad relationship. Finally it all came crashing down, when my dad died, I could no longer pretend I was happy. Again, I sought help. Trying to rebuild my life and who I wanted to be.

I have seen several therapists. Each providing me with massive healing, tools and self awareness. However, I still felt something was missing. I began to work with a shaman and other alternative therapies and found that my healing expanded and I gained insight into me on a soul level. I rediscovered who I was on a soul level! I was able to rekindle gifts, release massive guilt, resentment and anger, and most importantly develop love for myself. Leading me to where I am today, as a therapist. I am a registered psychotherapist with certificates in Child and Adolescent Counseling and Transpersonal Counseling. I have my MA in counseling from Regis. I love incorporating several modalities in therapy. From tradition talk therapy to shamanism, to intuition to art and play. I believe healing is a journey, an adventure just like life. Therapy is expanding and transformative.

I am here because I care. Because I want you to love yourself and feel amazing. I want for you to feel wonderful in your skin, speak from your heart, and shine! To transform your life, to heal and rediscover you, on a soul level. That is why I became I therapist because I love people and I want to help people just like you heal and rediscover your awesomeness!