I'm Bethany

Here's a little view of my life.

My living room floor is scattered with plastic farm animals and Bluey toys.

Didn't I just pick those up?

I don't remember the last time I showered, but I sure would like one. Alone. With the door closed. Maybe some music... or even better, silence.

I have no idea what's for dinner, but I know two out of three kids won't eat it and will probably have Uncrustables instead.

As I'm typing this, I have three loads of laundry to fold, another to wash, a toilet to scrub, and at some point I want to sit down with my kids and actually be present with them.

And that's just home.

At work, there are emails and phone calls to return, protocols to write, and assessments to complete. Those things have a way of staying in my head even when I'm not there.

For a long time, I would have looked at all of this and thought:

This is why I'm struggling.

Now?

It's just life.

Unrelenting, beautiful, unhinged life.

And I don't want to build a life where I have to get everything under control before I can be okay in it.

The Season I Couldn't Keep Doing It

For my entire life, I never thought I was allowed to not be okay. I was so busy always taking care of everyone around me that I never stopped to think about how desperately I wanted support too. So I kept carrying everyone, pushing through my discomfort within my own body.

And because of that, I had to sleep with the TV on so that I didn't have to sit with my own thoughts. Thoughts that were waiting for a moment to point out and analyze anything that went wrong that day, or 10 years ago. For instance I still have a 3rd grade memory that plays every now and then from when I said suc-sex-ful instead of successful and all the class laughed. It doesn't need to be recent for my mind to remind me.

It got so bad that I eventually reached a point where I didn't want to live like this, a stranger in my own body, fearing anything that could go wrong, and what would happen if I couldn't keep everything going if I continued to be everything for everyone else and no one to myself. And just to be clear, I do not mean this as a rock bottom way. I mean this as a something needs to change.

And because of that I was afraid I would disappear without ever knowing who I am. So I started researching ways to try to fix this on my own. And as a nurse I had more knowledge about the body and brain than others, plus I had access to research and professionals daily.

So I worked my way down the list. I tried everything. Breathing exercises, nervous system tools, grounding techniques, cold water, meditation. Short ones, long ones, guided, silent. Before the moment, during, after.

And one by one, each thing failed me.

Here's the thing about trying well-researched, scientifically-backed tools and having none of them work — it doesn't make you think maybe these aren't right for me. It makes you think there must be something wrong with me specifically.

So I added a new layer of shame quietly on top of everything else, and kept going.

Then I found outside help. I scheduled with a therapist who specialized in mind body connection.

She led me through a visualization where I discovered a box and the goal was to open the box just a little so we could begin unpacking past traumas that could be influencing my present.

I was never someone comfortable with being vulnerable, and in this moment the floodgates opened as if all the trauma I had carefully packed away released all at once. I started bawling, talking about abandonment... And then the session ended. I never went back. In fact I slammed the lid on that box wrapped a chain around it, and have not touched it again.

I wasn't ready to face my trauma then.

And what was really crazy was that when I stopped approaching myself as something to be fixed, suddenly my trauma didn't feel so present.

I could unpack it, or I could not.

And that felt like the best thing to come out of all of this so far.

The Moment Everything Changed.

One morning my daughter had a bad night.

I hadn't slept. I had to go to a job I had grown to hate, and from the moment I opened my eyes I was already unraveling. I knew it and I still couldn't stop.

Everything was wrong and nothing was wrong and I was coming apart over a coffee mug. And then for the first time in my entire life, I slowed down just enough to hear her.

Not my daughter crying.

Not my husband asking what is wrong.

The voice inside my own head.

You are a monster for not picking up your daughter. You are the worst mother. You are completely out of control over a coffee mug. Why are you like this? Why are you broken?

I had never noticed her before, and she had been there through sll of it.

While I was trying the breathing exercises, she was whispering, this isn't going to work for someone like you.

While I was trying to fix my nervous system, she was telling me I needed fixing.

Only she wasn't an intruder. She was a tenant who had been there so long I had stopped noticing the rent she was charging.

And that morning, I didn't try to evict her. I didn't argue with he, or replace her with a toxicly positive affirmation.

I just noticed.

And stayed.

And listened.

That was the beginning.

Not because I finally found the right answer.

Because I finally started collecting information about myself instead of constantly trying to correct myself.

Why I'm Here

I don't have you figured out.

And that's good.

I don't want to be an expert on you. You're the one living your life.

I don't have myself figured out either.

And I don't want to.

Every day I have different wants and needs. I'm still figuring things out too.

The goal isn't to have all the answers.

It's to be able to find out.

To notice what comes up, try things, learn from what happens, and trust yourself enough to decide what to do next.

Where Do You Go From Here?

So you can see what I already know: you are exactly the person you need to be right now.

If any of this sounded like you — the noticing, the tenant who won't leave, the version of you that's still in it — I built a way to help you see your specific pattern more clearly.

Start with the free one-minute experiment. No quiz, no pressure, no wrong answers. Just pick what fits into your life, just as you are.