Tag Archives: fear


I make no bones about it: My mind can be an awfully scary place sometimes. Sometimes, it feels like I am trapped in the forest. My intentions when I enter the forest are always good: I enter it looking for the peace, the calm and the refuge from the noise, hustle and bustle of the outside world. I start walking along the trails, I hear the birdsong overhead and the babbling of the creeks and streams, the trees are all lush and green and beautiful, the sun is bright and warm, and all cares are tossed to the wayside. This trip into the woods is delineated as my thoughts, cares and love for my friends and those around me.

But inevitably, invariably and ultimately, time gets away from me. The dark of night slips up on me, and I find myself without a tent, flashlight, food, blade or any way of communication, to say nothing of my lacking a lighter for a fire. And the howling is distant but growing closer. The yellow dots of light in the far woods begin to draw closer. The wolves are on their way, looking to claim their most fool-hearty victim once again: Me. But these wolves aren’t just any pack of them: They are my fears, anxieties and worries coming back to ravage me one more time.

This week, I found myself once again being held torn apart by my over-revving, overthinking mind. Silence from friends on Facebook when I checked in. People near and dear to me snapping or giving me cold, hard responses when I spoke to them. Overthinking how my friends were reacting to events going on in their lives. Feelings of not being where I think I should be in life. Fearing I had overstepped my boundaries and overstayed my welcome in my friend’s lives. Fearing about over communicating and being a pest to my friends. Worries about other friends and when I will be able to see them, if I can. Worries about moving and money. Losing sleep. Not eating right or hydrating properly. This week, I was lost in the woods. The wolves in my mind were showing their teeth, growling, ready to pounce on the ill-starred and helpless wanderer that had entered their forbidden territory.

Several nights this week, I found myself pinned to my bed with cold sweat rolling from my brow and my stomach turning flips over scenarios, real and imagined. And I couldn’t reach out. Most everyone I could turn to was sound asleep. By day, I could fend off the wolves fairly effectively, but by nightfall, I was tired and beat, and they pounced, each taking turns biting and ripping chunks of me away to keep as their spoils.

Once again, I let my mind get the upper hand on me, and I was a battered and bleeding pile of bones once again, emaciated by the lostness of I in the forest of my mind, and decimated by the voracious lobos that my thoughts, fears, anxieties, etc had manifested themselves as. I had to once again use what few morsels of strength I had remaining to drag myself out of the woods somehow and either crawl back to my safe place, or try to flag down someone and have them bring me back, despite the silence I had endured.

One would think surrender would be the only option, to just lay down and give in and let my mind have its way with me. There has been times in the not so distant past that surrender sounded like a very tempting and viable option. How much more of me could the wolves take before there was absolutely nothing remaining of me? How much more of my blood had to spill before I realized enough was enough? How many more times would I have to stitch and salve my wounds and go back into that forest to search for the light?

But then I re-realized a very important thing, something that, in my fight for survival, I had let get away from me:

Strength in numbers.


I do not have to keep letting the darkness and the wolves catch me unsuspecting. I have near and dear friends. I had only focused on their silences this week without any context behind them; I had in my scared and myopic state hyperfocused on the silence, when I know that these people would drop everything to help me, if I need it. If I do not have the tools and resources of my own, I can call on them and they can lend them, or better still, I can take these friends with me into the woods. I can take comfort in knowing they have the tools to pitch a tent, build a fire, cook a meal and keep those ugly, leering wolves at bay for the night. I do not have to go into the woods alone. I know that, if my fears and worries and anxieties were founded about them, they would reach out and let me know and would give me options to help them. I know these people have my back. I have strength in numbers. And I don’t have to fight alone. It’s taken me 26 years to realize this, but strength in numbers is something that overcome most anything.

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, tell about some of the people who helps you fight off those wolves when they appear in your own mind!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,



Milepost 264.4 on the Blue Ridge Parkway in my beloved North Carolina will find you at The Lump Overlook, one of 195 scenic overlooks on the 469 mile Blue Ridge Parkway. Following a short trail up the hill, you can see for miles into the picturesque Yadkin Valley region. A plaque telling about Tom Dula (Tom Dooley) stands at the trailhead at the bottom of the hill. Wooden fences lines the hill and adds to the charm of the area. Beyond the hill, there is a narrow paved walkway, offering travelers and tourists a second opportunity to peer into the Carolina foothills. The scenery is lush and green in the spring, and alight with many colors in the fall. It is a place where snapshots are taken, and memories are made.

And for me, it is the place where I nearly ended my life.

In August of this year, I hit absolute rock bottom mentally. I have touched on this in previous blogs, but have never fully dove into it. I found myself to be completely frayed in my personal life, and in my work/creative life. I found myself constantly worrying and obsessing over everyone and everything in my circle. Even in doing things I enjoy, I still found myself straddled by the weight of anxiety, of uncertainty, of FOMO, the fear of missing out. It was completely wrecking my life. Being an empath, it can be very hard to tame your care for others down when you need to. And in my case, these feelings were like kudzu, covering every fiber of my being in a thick layer of choking anxiety vines and leafy panic. But I kept ignoring it. And ignoring it. And ignoring it. I kept lying to myself, saying I things under control, when it was gnawing-no, eating-at me, from the feet up.

Many times, I had visited The Lump Overlook in rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I remember vividly the view, and how sharp the drop-off was from the aforementioned narrow paved walkway down into the chasm beneath me. I had my mind made up. I was going to free myself from these feelings, emotions, worries, panics and fears by jumping from the overlook into the valley below. I didn’t care how long the fall would be, nor what I may or may not hit as this body cascaded into the valley below. I knew I’d had enough. I had reached the end of my rope. A running start and a leap into the valley from the overlook was going to be the solution to all of my problems, so I thought. But little did I know, a new beginning was about to meet my planned end.

I confessed my intentions to a handful of close friends, even going as far to admit I had begged and pleaded my own brother to drive me to the overlook, so I could carry out what was to be my final wish. Shocked and terrified they must have been, but judgmental and critical, they were not. They sat me down and identified what had caused this to build up, things I had wholeheartedly ignored. The stresses, the worries, the anxieties, the fear of not being present, the pressures of making sure everything ran correctly, and that everyone was appeased, both within the group and outside of it. They made a map of progress for me to follow, with careful and concise instructions going forward. And at times, it’s been damn hard to follow. Even now, I get that wrenching feeling in my gut that I should be present, I should have my sleeves rolled up and that I should be getting my hands dirty in the online network we are running. But I know that, if I was insistent, I’d just find myself right back at where I was, and I would have erased every shred of the progress I have made.

Instead, I take those wrenching feelings and tun them into knocking on doors, looking into options for mental health services, emailing potential therapists, and airing out these wrenching feelings to that same close knit group of dear friends. And apart from that, I am channeling those feelings elsewhere, into writing poetry and short stories, and in recent days, even going as far as submitting one of my poems for publication in a physical, hard-copy book! And I’m always looking forward to the future……..some of my early goals for the next year is to find a solid therapist, to visit some more dear friends, to write and publish a full book of my own poetry, and to take some of my music ideas and get them recorded, with the hopes of having at least an EP of my songs released by the end of 2023! Many bright things await me, and it all came when my end and my beginning met, at milepost 264.4 on the Blue Ridge Parkway ❤

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, talk a bit about how you’ve overcome those feelings of anxiety, the fear of missing out, suicidal thoughts, etc. Your feelings and stories are valid, and well welcomed and cherished!

As always, thank you all for taking some time to read this blog! Take care, much love, and may God richly bless


P.S.-Special thank yous to Renee Yaworsky, Diane Coll, Sandie Ingrande and Just Another Badass Warrior co-founder Em Farwell for taking me into their arms and helping me chart a course toward a better and brighter future for myself. Without their care and love and kindness, I do not know where I would be. Thank you ladies, from the very bottom of my heart. ❤ ❤ ❤