Mental Health, Parenting, and Activism: A balancing act
The photo for this blog is a picture of me as Hecate, trifold Greek Goddess of the underworld, childbirth, thresholds, and the Moon, in Fiona Criddle's play, The Flower Debt, which debuted in August of 2023.
Content warning: mention of suicide (not graphic)
I have struggled with my mental health for my whole life, and am constantly finding ways to adapt so as to stay connected to the causes and interests that I’m drawn to. Much of my postpartum experience was terrifying - I spent a month in inpatient care nearly one year ago. Goldie was just 7 months old when James stepped up to care for her full-time while I sought help. I can't overstate the horror of this time last year. I really wasn’t sure that I would survive. This time this year is also challenging - anniversaries can be hard.
While I've made a lot of progress, life these days is still not a walk in the park. The ups are blessed. The downs are somewhere between disheartening and terrifying. I struggle not just with the struggle itself, but with the knowledge that when I’m having a hard time, my people are deeply impacted. I wish sometimes that I could be released into the woods like a werewolf - to tear about and feel how I feel, without having to endure being witnessed by the people who love me.
There are nights when I feel like I have burned everyone who cares about me out, simply by being myself and living the cards I’ve been dealt. I know that this isn’t true - several people in my life have told me, “you can always call.” But it gets old - calling people from a place of misery. I’ve learned that one does not need to be truly on the brink of ending their life to “qualify” for calling 988 - the suicide prevention hotline. Not a lesson I would have preferred to learn, but one that I want to share in case it impacts you, dear reader.
With regards to the people in my corner, I could not ask for a more incredible partner in life and parenting than James, nor for a more devoted family, nor for better friends. Over the years, I have learned to tend carefully to my relationships, especially when I’m on an upswing. If you’ve seen the Mayor of Babytown videos I’ve made with Goldie, that’s what these are - a way to give back. (Of course, they make me cackle and scratch my performative itch, too). Reciprocity helps people stay in the game - and I need my people. Like, need need.
Recently, after learning a bit about Family Constellation Therapy from a coach named Meenadchi, a light shone on a dark area of my heart. She exposed me to this idea that honestly receiving care - accepting it without allowing guilt to adhere to my experience of receiving, is also a form of reciprocity. What a helpful concept.
Did you, in elementary school gym class, ever use a big rainbow parachute? All the kids in the class would take the edge of the parachute. Then we’d lift it up high and sit down underneath it for a glorious moment before it collapsed, or we’d put light objects on top and bounce them around. The parachute only worked if we dispersed around the perimeter and each held our little segment. It’s a sweet memory. In my head, each person in my support network (including me) holds a bit of the parachute, and through this collective effort, I remain here, on the plane, living my life and continuing to INSIST on orienting towards my innate wholeness.
Emotional Retreat Cabin started around August as a way for me, after the difficulties of pregnancy and postpartum mental health, to tap into my calling as a collective care facilitator, and to feel like I was doing something besides keeping myself afloat - I needed to connect with people in this way in order to restore my sense of identity.
ERC is a 40-minute mini retreat that takes place at 12pm EST on Fridays. Depending on what the group needs on a given day, we use a variety of somatic practices, meditation and pranayama (breathwork), and guided visualizations to settle our nervous systems. The real magic is in the co-regulation - the sharing of the practice, along with being heard and hearing others' experiences as we inevitably shift our energy by coming together. I lead this group and am a member, just as I was in my 2.5 years of leading Being Extraordinary, a most incredible year-long journey towards collective self-care through the wisdom of yoga, Ayurveda, among other influences.
Around November of 2023, in response to the US’ direct role in aiding Israel in ramping up the genocide of the Palestinian people, we added an element: after settling our nervous systems and connecting with our Higher Selves, we reorient to the outside world and use 5 Calls to call our representatives to demand accountability.
The changes we seek rely on us taking action in the name of collective liberation, yes. Change also relies on us taking care of ourselves. Once we are better resourced, we have a greater capacity to turn outward.
In the brief share-out after the calls, resistance is often mentioned. I feel it, depending on the day - and I’m so grateful for the accountability that comes with community, because I make the call anyway. When I call, I share from my heart. I tell the answering machine (and occasional live staffer) that I am a mother, and a social worker, and I tell them what I think and what I feel about our country’s involvement in an expanding colonial settler project, our war machines, our leaders’ willingness to prize a foothold in the Middle East and war profiteering over Palestinian lives. Over the months, my voicemails have gotten less angry and tend to come more as an invitation to the listener. As I write, I reflect that it’s a real gift to be able to witness my own growth as an activist over time. Practicing metta meditation - the Buddhist practice of lovingkindness - has proven invaluable.
Many activists - previous versions of me included - believe (consciously or not) that hypervigilance is the only way to access change. Beautiful teachers like adrienne maree brown and the Nap Bishop, Tricia Hersey, and Jacoby Ballard have taught me otherwise. Softening my heart by stoking self-compassion and compassion for others - including those who create immense harm - has not stopped me from participating as an activist.
As someone living with CPTSD, I recognize that many of the patterns in my activism map onto my trauma responses. My experience of trauma has guided my activist identity, which has been present for as long as I can remember, and started to take root in a political sense when I was a teenager. I resonate with the experiences of people living under oppression because I feel how supremacy culture has harmed me, and know what it's like to be traumatized. This has motivated me.
And yet, as I navigate the ups and downs of my personal experience, I need to be mindful of what I put out so that I can continue to live my life; I’m in a tender period, and keeping myself well is a serious matter. As much as I believe we are here to change the world for the better and to contribute to collective liberation, I also believe that we are here to enjoy our lives. And in fact, enjoying my life creates space for me to be much more available, intuitive, and precise in finding my unique role in what I've been calling the Stardust Revolution.
I'm passionate about supporting healers of all ilk (medical and mental health professionals, holistic healers, parents breaking cycles, artists, activists, etc. etc), and fortunate to feel confident in my dharma. I support healers because I know how easy it is to burn out - how easy it is to resonate so deeply with a cause that I end up in a worse, and more incapacitated place with my mental health. This leaves me unable to be of assistance not only to other people, but sometimes to myself and to my family. If I'm not okay, I can't help anyone. And ever since James and I brought a life into this world, my need to care for myself is that much more duty-bound. Perhaps my greatest mission is to help Goldie to be as well as possible in this wild life.