Hollow Holidays

The lights are strung, the carols play,

But joy feels a million miles away.

My daughters' laughter, their shining eyes,

Lost in the void where my spirit lies.

This holiday season, no gifts can mend

The broken road I’m forced to tend.

Court papers, therapy, miles of red tape,

Each moment, a struggle to escape.

Sobriety's a chain I clutch so tight,

Yet demons call to me late at night.

Their whispers echo: "You'll never be free,"

A fight I wage for the best version of me.

My love is questioned, my heart denied,

Though I give all, I’m met with pride.

A love unproven, mistrust takes hold—

A fragile bond, so brittle, so cold.

Felonies shadow my every stride,

A past I can’t flee, though I’ve tried.

Jobs that vanish, dreams delayed,

Child support for love unpaid.

Miles from home, from family’s grace,

Yet compliance demands I keep my place.

Therapy, classes, appointments to tend,

The grind unyielding, it never ends.

Still, beneath the weight, a flicker glows,

A mother’s love that fiercely knows—

One day, I'll climb this endless climb,

And reclaim what’s lost, one step, one time.

For now, I breathe, I fight, I stand,

This broken heart still demands:

I may be fractured, but I’m not through—

I’ll keep rising, for me, for you.

Embracing the Darkness

My daughters are the light of my life—the reason I breathe, the reason I smile, the reason I keep going. Without them here with me, everything feels so dark. It’s getting harder and harder to put on a fake smile, to pretend I’m okay when all I do is cry. I’m so sad all the time, and I hate feeling like this. I just want my daughters home.

I want to be the mom I know I can be—the mom they deserve, the mom I was before all of this. The only thing I’ve ever been certain about in this life is being their mommy. Without them, I have no purpose. My life feels meaningless without them.

I wish I could go back. I wish I had never let them go visit New York. If I knew then what I know now, everything would be so different. I just need my life back. I need my daughters back. I need this pain to stop because it’s only getting worse.

I’m at a breaking point. I don’t know what to do anymore, but I know I can’t keep living like this. If you’re reading this, please send me strength because I truly need it more than ever

Is giving up an option to even consider?

Today feels impossible. My mind is heavy, my heart is broken, and I’m not in a good place mentally. Some days, I can find the strength to fight, but today, I don’t even want to try. It feels like there’s no point. I just want to give up.

I miss my daughters so much it’s unbearable. I wish they were home with me right now. Their presence would make this emptiness feel even a little lighter, but they’re not here. And with Christmas just a few days away, the pain feels even heavier. There’s no hope, nothing to celebrate, and nothing that feels meaningful without them here with me.

I’m sharing this because I know I’m not the only one who struggles, especially this time of year. If you’re reading this, please send some love my way, because I’m really struggling to hold it together. And if you’re feeling the same way, know you’re not alone.

The holidays are supposed to be about joy and togetherness, but for some of us, it’s just a reminder of what we’ve lost or what’s missing. I don’t know how I’m going to get through it, but for now, I’m just taking it moment by moment.

The Weight of the Holidays: Navigating Depression and Custody Battles

The holiday season is supposed to be a time of joy, warmth, and togetherness. For many, it’s a chance to create cherished memories with loved ones, exchange laughter, and indulge in traditions. But for others, especially those missing their children and grappling with the pain of custody battles, the holidays can feel like an unbearable weight—a stark reminder of what’s missing.

As the world lights up with festive decorations and cheerful songs fill the air, it’s easy to feel isolated in your grief. The pressure to appear happy during this time of year can make the struggle with depression even harder. Every carol, every glittering tree, and every image of families gathered together can feel like salt in a wound that refuses to heal.

For parents fighting to regain custody of their children, the holiday season isn’t just emotionally challenging—it’s a battlefield of memories and longing. You think about the traditions you used to share, the laughter of your kids decorating the tree, or the way their eyes lit up as they opened gifts. These moments, now out of reach, can haunt you. The ache of missing your children becomes sharper, compounded by the uncertainty of when—or if—you’ll be able to hold them close again.

The fight for custody is a draining process, both emotionally and financially. The legal battles are a constant source of stress, with endless paperwork, court dates, and, often, a feeling of powerlessness. It’s hard to focus on self-care or even daily responsibilities when your heart is consumed by worry for your children and the weight of proving you’re the parent they need and deserve.

Depression during the holidays doesn’t just take an emotional toll—it can affect your physical health, relationships, and ability to function. Feelings of guilt, inadequacy, and hopelessness often creep in, making it hard to reach out for support. But it’s important to remember that you’re not alone in this struggle.

Finding Strength in the Darkness

1. Acknowledge Your Feelings

It’s okay to feel sad, angry, or overwhelmed. Give yourself permission to grieve the loss of normalcy and the time you’re missing with your children. Bottling up emotions only makes them more difficult to handle.

2. Lean on Your Support System

Whether it’s a trusted friend, family member, or support group, sharing your pain with others can lighten the load. There are also communities of parents who’ve gone through similar experiences and can offer encouragement and advice.

3. Create New Traditions

While waiting for the day you can celebrate the holidays with your kids again, consider creating new traditions, even if they’re just for yourself. It might not fill the void, but it can give you a small sense of purpose and joy.

4. Seek Professional Help

Depression isn’t something you have to face alone. A therapist can provide coping strategies, a safe space to talk, and tools to help you manage the overwhelming emotions.

5. Focus on the Bigger Picture

The fight for custody is exhausting, but it’s a fight worth having. Remember why you’re doing this: to give your children the love, stability, and future they deserve. Keep that as your north star, even when the days feel dark.

Looking Ahead

The holidays won’t always feel this heavy. There will come a time when you can share laughter, hugs, and celebrations with your kids again. Until then, take it one day at a time. Be gentle with yourself. Recognize the strength it takes to keep going despite the weight of the world on your shoulders.

The holiday lights may feel dim right now, but they’re still there—waiting to shine brighter when this storm passes. And it will pass. Hold on to hope, for yourself and for the precious reunions that await.

Facing Authority and Overcoming Anxiety: My Journey with Accountability

Walking into my probation officer’s office is one of the most nerve-wracking experiences I face regularly. Every time I step through that door, my anxiety skyrockets, even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not about guilt; it’s about the overwhelming fear of judgment, of authority, and the pressure to be perfect in a situation where perfection feels impossible.

I’ve spent countless hours analyzing why I feel this way. Maybe it’s rooted in the power dynamics—she holds the ability to make decisions that directly impact my life. Or perhaps it’s the lingering shame of my past, the fear that no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be seen as the person I once was. Either way, these appointments trigger a cascade of anxiety that’s hard to shake, even after I’ve left her office.

Despite this struggle, I recently took a big step forward in my recovery and personal growth: I wrote her a letter. This wasn’t just any letter; it was my way of taking accountability for my past wrongdoings, a fundamental part of my journey in Alcoholics Anonymous.

Writing the letter wasn’t easy. Every word felt like peeling back a layer of armor I’ve built to protect myself from the judgment of others—and myself. I apologized for the mistakes I made that brought me to this point, for the pain I caused others, and for the ways my actions affected my life and theirs.

Taking accountability is a cornerstone of recovery, but it’s also one of the hardest parts. Admitting that I was wrong, that I hurt people, and that I have to work every day to make amends—it’s humbling and freeing all at once.

What surprised me most was my probation officer’s reaction. She wasn’t dismissive or harsh; instead, she acknowledged my effort. In that moment, I realized that while she is an authority figure, she’s also human. She sees my progress, not just my past.

This experience has taught me something important: fear of authority often comes from within. It’s the remnants of shame and guilt, the little voice that says, “What if they don’t believe in you?” But by taking steps to own my story and my actions, I’m beginning to rewrite that narrative.

I still feel anxious every time I report to her office, but now I see it as another opportunity to prove—to myself, most importantly—that I am not my past. I am a person in progress, someone who is learning, growing, and showing up even when it’s hard.

If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt that paralyzing fear of authority, know this: it’s okay to feel afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back. Take accountability where it’s due, show up for yourself, and trust in the process. Growth isn’t linear, but every step forward is a victory.

For me, writing that letter wasn’t just part of my AA journey—it was a step toward healing, toward proving that I’m not just surviving this process, but thriving in it. And for that, I am proud.

1

Breaking Free from a Toxic Relationship: Recognizing and Overcoming a Trauma Bond

 In a recent self-reflection journey, I have come to the startling realization that the deep connection I

thought was love for my abusive narcissist ex-boyfriend was actually a trauma bond in disguise. Despite

enduring five physically violent altercations that left me injured and with black eyes, I held onto hope

that he would change. The truth is, breaking this trauma bond is the key to setting myself free.

A trauma bond is a powerful psychological connection that forms between an abused individual and

their abuser. It is often characterized by a cycle of abuse followed by periods of affection and promises

of change, which reinforces the bond and keeps the victim trapped in the toxic relationship. In my case,

the intermittent reinforcement of kindness and apologies after each violent outburst created a sense of

hope that things would be different next time.

However, through therapy and self-reflection, I have realized that change will never come from the

abuser. It is the victim who must take a stand and break free from the toxic cycle. It is essential to

recognize and acknowledge the trauma bond for what it is, a manipulative tactic that keeps us locked in

a destructive relationship.

Breaking free from a trauma bond is no easy feat. It requires courage, strength, and a commitment to

your own well-being. For me, it meant cutting off all contact with my ex-boyfriend, seeking therapy and

support from loved ones, and focusing on rebuilding my self-esteem and self-worth. It is a process of

healing and growth, but one that is necessary for true liberation from the chains of abuse.

Today, I stand empowered and liberated, knowing that breaking the trauma bond was the first step

towards reclaiming my life and my happiness. I am no longer held captive by false hopes of change or by

the cycle of abuse. I have broken free, and I am now on the path to healing and recovery. And I know

that I deserve nothing less than a healthy, loving relationship built on respect, trust, and mutual support.

Overcoming Domestic Violence and Prioritizing Mental Health

Domestic violence is a dark reality that many individuals face behind closed doors, often shrouded in

silence and shame. I recently found myself in a harrowing situation with my now ex-boyfriend that turned physical, causing me immense fear and pain. It is crucial to emphasize that domestic violence is never acceptable, no matter the circumstances. This disturbing experience opened my eyes to the importance of seeking help and escaping toxic relationships.

Fortunately, a caring neighbor overheard the commotion and rushed to my aid, offering support and assistance to help me safely retreat to my car and leave the volatile situation. Their timely intervention was a lifeline during a moment of despair, reminding me that there are good Samaritans willing to stand up against abuse and lend a helping hand.

It is crucial to acknowledge that domestic violence occurs much more frequently than we care to admit, often lurking in the shadows of fear and manipulation. However, it is essential to break the cycle of silence and seek help from dedicated organizations and support systems. Your safety and well-being should always come first, regardless of the challenges you may face.

As someone already battling PTSD, anxiety, depression, and panic attacks, the trauma of this altercation has further exacerbated my mental health struggles. It is imperative to remember that self-care is not selfish, and prioritizing your mental health is a sign of strength, not weakness. You are not alone in your journey towards healing and recovery.

Remember, you matter, and there is a network of compassionate individuals and resources ready to offer assistance in times of crisis. Let's break the silence, seek help, and empower ourselves to overcome domestic violence while nurturing our mental well-being.

Overcoming Relapse and Embracing Recovery

 Recently, I found myself in a difficult situation that left me feeling vulnerable and defeated. After a physical altercation with my now ex-boyfriend, I felt the weight of my mental health disorders weighing heavily on me. As someone who already struggled with instability, the altercation triggered a relapse that I never saw coming.

The aftermath of the fight left me feeling ashamed and disappointed in myself. I felt like I had failed in my journey towards recovery. The feelings of guilt and self-doubt consumed me, and I doubted whether I would ever be able to overcome my struggles.

However, as I took the time to reflect on what had happened, I came to realize that relapsing is just a part of the recovery process. It is a setback, not a sign of failure. It is a reminder that healing is not a linear path, but a journey filled with ups and downs.

Once I accepted this truth, I found the strength to pick myself back up and continue moving forward. I sought help from a therapist and leaned on my support system for guidance and encouragement. I began to see relapsing as an opportunity for growth and self-discovery, rather than a reason to feel defeated.

Through this experience, I learned that recovery is not a destination, but a continuous journey of self-improvement and self-acceptance. It is about embracing our vulnerabilities and using them as stepping stones towards a brighter future.

So, if you find yourself in a similar situation, remember that relapsing is not the end of the road. It is a chance to learn, grow, and ultimately recover. Embrace the journey, and never lose sight of the strength and resilience that lies within you.

Crimson Craving

A tempest rages, wild and deep,

Where passion's embers fiercely sleep.

Your essence, a narcotic, sweet and strong,

To which my soul eternally belongs.

In dreams we intertwine, a fiery plight,

Lost in the darkness, bathed in light.

A hunger gnaws, insatiable and keen,

For moments stolen, a forbidden scene.

Your laughter, music to my ear,

Dispels the shadows, calming fear.

With every beat, my heart does yearn,

For your embrace, where souls discern.

A captive soul, in longing's hold,

Your name whispered, a story untold.

In this inferno, I'm consumed by fire,

Aching for your touch, my sole desire.

Celebrating 120 Days Sober: A Milestone Worth Acknowledging

Reaching 120 days sober is a significant achievement worth celebrating. It marks not only a physical milestone in abstaining from alcohol or substances but also a mental and emotional journey towards self-improvement and growth.

In these past 120 days, I have experienced moments of clarity, strength, and resilience that I never knew were possible. Each day without succumbing to the temptation of addiction has been a victory in itself. I have learned to cope with challenges and stress in healthier ways, finding solace in meditation, exercise, and creativity.

While the road to sobriety has not always been easy, the rewards have been immeasurable. My relationships have improved, my mind is sharper, and my soul feels lighter. I am more present, engaged, and grateful for the small moments that make life beautiful.

As I reflect on my journey to 120 days sober, I am reminded of the courage it took to make the choice to change my life for the better. I am proud of the progress I have made and excited for the possibilities that await in the future.

Here's to celebrating 120 days sober, and to the continued strength and perseverance needed to stay on this path of healing and wellness.Cheers to a brighter, healthier tomorrow! May the next 120 days bring even more growth, joy, and peace. 

Here's to embracing the journey of sobriety with open arms and a hopeful heart. Cheers to a brighter, healthier tomorrow!

Always remember tho:

* It's okay to ask for help. My support group has been my lifeline.

 * Celebrate small wins. Two months is huge, but so is one day, or even one hour, without a drink.

 * Be kind to yourself. This is a journey, not a sprint. There will be bumps along the way.

I'm not naive enough to think it's smooth sailing from here. Sobriety is a choice I make every single day. But today, I choose to celebrate. I choose to be grateful for the strength I've found and the incredible journey that still lies ahead.

#sobriety #fourmonths #recovery #120days

Three Months Down, a Lifetime to Go

Hey everyone, it's me again. Today is a special day. I'm officially 90 days sober! It's been a tough road, but I'm so incredibly proud of myself.

Those first few weeks were brutal. The cravings, the mood swings, the feeling that I'd never enjoy myself again... it was a lot. But something inside me knew I had to keep going.

What's changed? Honestly, it feels like everything. My mind is clearer, my body feels stronger, and my relationships are so much better. I'm sleeping deeply and waking up with a sense of possibility that I haven't felt in years.

Of course, there are still challenges. Temptation lingers, and some days the weight of it all feels heavy. But here's what I've learned:

 * It's okay to ask for help. My support group has been my lifeline.

 * Celebrate small wins. Two months is huge, but so is one day, or even one hour, without a drink.

 * Be kind to yourself. This is a journey, not a sprint. There will be bumps along the way.

I'm not naive enough to think it's smooth sailing from here. Sobriety is a choice I make every single day. But today, I choose to celebrate. I choose to be grateful for the strength I've found and the incredible journey that still lies ahead.

#sobriety #twomonths #recovery

New Joy's of Parenting

I remember the day Joshua was born like it was just yesterday. The feeling of overwhelming joy, love, and gratitude that washed over me as I held him in my arms was indescribable. I was a new wife at just 21 years old and a first-time mother to the most beautiful baby boy I had ever seen. Everything felt so perfect, so right, and so full of promise.

As I navigated the ups and downs of motherhood, learning to breastfeed, waking up in the middle of the night to comfort my little one, and embracing all the new changes that came with being a new mom, I felt like I was on top of the world. Nothing could bring me down, and the joy that I felt just got stronger as the days passed.

But then, when Joshua was just three months old, my world came crashing down. Joshua passed away, and my heart was shattered into a million pieces. The pain of losing him was unbearable, and it felt like nothing would ever be right again.

Looking back, even though my time with Joshua was short, I am grateful for every moment we shared together. Through him, I experienced a love that was deeper than anything I ever knew existed, a joy that was more profound than any other I had ever experienced, and a sense of purpose that I had never felt before.

Although I still miss him every day, I carry his memory with me as a testament to the joy and beauty that he brought into my life. Even in his brief time here, he made a tremendous impact and taught me so much about love, life, and what really matters in this world.

Being a new wife and first-time mom to Joshua was a truly special and beautiful experience. Although it ended too soon, the joy that we shared together will always hold a special place in my heart and laid the footsteps for the rest of my journey into adulthood. 

I have since become a mother to two more beautiful children, and while the pain of losing Joshua will never fully go away, it has taught me to cherish every moment with my family. I am grateful for the lessons that Joshua taught me about love and life, and I know that he continues to watch over us from above. Being a mom is not always easy, but the joy and love that come with it make every sacrifice worth it. I am proud to be a mother and grateful for all of the joys that come with it.

This was the first time my (now ex) husband and I
took Natilee to Joshua's grave.
I was pregnant with Kaylee at the time, due 
to deliver any day.

From the Trenches: A Mom's Fight

Some days, it feels like I'm at war. 

Not a war out in the world, but one raging inside me. 

It's a battle against depression, a relentless enemy that saps my joy and colors my world gray. 

It's a fight to stay sober, to keep pushing back against the cravings that threaten to undo everything. 

But most of all, it's a battle to be the mom my daughters deserve.

The ache of their absence is a constant weight. When I lost custody, it felt like my heart got ripped out. Every day without them is a reminder of my failures, of the times I wasn't strong enough. The guilt and shame are heavy burdens to bear.

But amidst the darkness, there's a flicker of hope. I'm in therapy, slowly making sense of the tangled mess of my emotions. I have good days, days where I catch a glimpse of the woman I could be. I'm attending support groups, finding strength in the stories of others fighting similar battles.

It's a long, hard road. There are setbacks and tears. Some mornings, just getting out of bed feels like a victory. But I won't give up. Not on myself, and definitely not on my girls.

To other moms in the trenches: You are not alone. Even when it feels like the whole world is against you, there are people who understand. 

You are stronger than you think, more resilient than you can imagine. 

Keep fighting. For yourself, for your children, for the light waiting on the other side.

If you're struggling:

 * National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 988 (or 1-800-273-TALK)

 * Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

Disclaimer: This post is not a substitute for professional mental health help. Please seek qualified treatment if you're struggling.

Calling All Poetry Lovers!

Get ready to be inspired! I'm thrilled to announce that I'll soon be launching a brand-new tab dedicated entirely to my poetry.

Whether you're a long-time fan or new to my work, this tab will be your go-to spot for everything I create. Get ready to immerse yourself in a world of words, emotions, and vivid imagery.

What to Expect:

 * A collection of my best work

 * New and exclusive poems

 * Insights into my writing process

I can't wait to share my passion for poetry with you all. Stay tuned for the launch date – coming soon!

In the meantime, why not…

 * Follow me on social media for updates

 * Share this post to spread the word!

Breaking Free: Navigating Divorce After Domestic Violence

Breaking Free: Navigating Divorce After Domestic Violence

Divorce after domestic violence is not just the end of a marriage—it’s the beginning of reclaiming safety, dignity, and peace. It’s a journey marked by courage, legal hurdles, and emotional healing. For many survivors, it’s also the first step toward rewriting their story.

Understanding Domestic Violence

Domestic violence isn’t always visible. It’s a pattern of control—physical, emotional, sexual, or financial—used to silence, isolate, and dominate. It can happen to anyone, regardless of background. And it’s never the victim’s fault.

Preparing to Leave

Leaving an abusive partner is one of the most dangerous moments in a survivor’s journey. That’s why safety must come first. A safety plan—like securing documents, identifying a safe place, and informing trusted allies—can be life-saving. The National Domestic Violence Hotline is a vital resource for building that plan and finding local support.

Legal Protection and Divorce Options

Once safety is secured, legal steps follow. A protective order (restraining order) can help shield survivors and their children from further harm. It may also include custody provisions.

Divorce itself can take two paths:

- Fault-based divorce allows survivors to cite abuse as the reason for ending the marriage. This can offer validation but may require sharing painful details in court.

- No-fault divorce avoids assigning blame and may feel safer emotionally, though it doesn’t guarantee protection from the abuser.

Working with a family law attorney who understands domestic violence is essential. They can help navigate custody, support, and legal protections with care and expertise.

Custody and Support Considerations

When children are involved, their safety becomes the heart of every decision. Courts prioritize their well-being, but survivors may need to provide evidence—police reports, medical records, or witness statements—to support custody claims. Protective orders can offer temporary safeguards, but long-term arrangements depend on the court.

Healing After the Storm

Divorce after abuse is not just a legal process—it’s a deeply emotional one. Therapy, support groups, and advocacy organizations can offer space to grieve, rebuild, and grow. Healing also happens in quiet moments: journaling, walking in nature, meditating, or simply breathing freely.

Self-care isn’t indulgent—it’s essential. So is patience. Healing takes time, and every step forward is a victory.

You Are Not Alone

Leaving an abusive relationship and navigating divorce is overwhelming—but you don’t have to do it alone. There are people, resources, and communities ready to walk beside you. With support, safety, and time, you can rebuild your life and create a future rooted in strength and peace.

---

Its scary but so worth it!!

It's hard enough being a mom to two young daughters - the sleepless nights, the tantrums, the constant balancing act of work and home life. But adding domestic violence into the mix? It's a whole other level of difficulty.

I know from personal experience just how tough it can be to survive domestic violence while also trying to be the best mom possible. My ex-husband was abusive, both physically and emotionally, and it took me a long time to gather the courage to leave him. But when I finally did, I realized that my journey to healing had only just begun.

For starters, there was the trauma of it all. Living with domestic violence can leave lasting scars, both visible and invisible. It's not just the bruises and broken bones - it's the anxiety, the fear, the feeling of helplessness. And as a mom, I had to find a way to work through my own trauma while also being a source of strength for my daughters.

Then there were the practical challenges. Suddenly, I was a single parent with no financial support from my ex-husband. I had to figure out how to pay the bills, put food on the table, and keep a roof over our heads. This was especially difficult because I had to start from scratch - I had no job, no savings, nothing to fall back on.

But the hardest part of all was seeing the impact that the abuse had on my daughters. They were so young at the time, but even then I could see the fear in their eyes. They had been witness to so much violence and instability, and it broke my heart every day to think that they had to grow up in that kind of environment.

Despite all these challenges, I knew that I had to keep going. My daughters were counting on me, and I couldn't let them down. It wasn't easy - far from it - but I found that there were things that helped. Talking to a therapist, finding support from other survivors, and rediscovering my passions (like volunteering at a local shelter) all gave me a sense of purpose and helped me move forward.

And while the road has been long and difficult, I can say with confidence that we made it through. My daughters are both thriving, and I feel like I've finally found my place in life as a mom. Domestic violence is never an easy issue to face, but with the right support and mindset, it is possible to survive and to thrive - both as a survivor, and as a mother

Unimaginable Pain

Losing a child is devastating. Losing your only son at just three months old from sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS) is unimaginable. It was a pain that I never thought I would have to endure, and it marked the beginning of a long and tumultuous journey that would lead to domestic violence.

The first few weeks after losing my baby were a blur. I was in a constant state of shock and disbelief, unable to comprehend what had just happened. I didn't want to leave my house or be around anyone. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see his smiling face, and my heart would break all over again.

As the weeks turned into months, I started to feel a deep sense of anger and resentment. Why did this happen to me? It wasn't fair. I wanted my baby back. But the reality was that he was gone, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

This sense of hopelessness and despair started to take a toll on my relationship with my partner. We both grieved the loss of our son, but we did so in different ways. He became distant and uncommunicative, and I became needy and demanding. I wanted him to grieve with me, but he didn't know how to.

The tension between us grew, and it wasn't long before we were arguing all the time. Sometimes, the arguments would turn violent, and he would hit me. At first, I thought it was just a one-off, a momentary lapse of judgment. But it became a pattern, and the violence escalated.

I was trapped in a cycle of grief and abuse. I was mourning the loss of my baby while being battered by the man I loved. It was a dark and lonely place to be, and I didn't know how to get out.

It took me a long time to realize that what was happening wasn't my fault. I didn't cause my baby's death, and I didn't deserve to be abused. The grief that I felt was valid, and the violence that I endured was not acceptable.

It took a lot of strength and courage, 2 miscarriages and giving birth to 2 beautiful daughters and 7 years to leave that relationship and start over. The road to healing was long and difficult, but it was worth it. I got the help and support that I needed, and I found a way to honor my son's memory without letting his death destroy me.

Losing a child is one of the most painful experiences that anyone can go through. But it doesn't have to be the beginning of domestic violence. If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse, reach out for help. 

No one deserves to suffer in silence.If you or someone you know is experiencing abuse, reach out for help. There are many resources available, including hotlines, shelters, and support groups. 

It's important to remember that you are not alone and that there is help out there. Domestic violence is never acceptable, and it's never too late to get out of an abusive relationship. Take the first step towards healing and safety today.

When the First Light Fades: Navigating the Loss of a First Child

When the First Light Fades: Navigating the Loss of a First Child

There are losses that bend the soul, and then there are those that break it wide open. Losing a child—especially your first—is not just a chapter in your story; it’s a tear in the fabric of your being. It’s the silence after a song that was never meant to end.

In the beginning, grief arrives like a storm with no warning. Shock, disbelief, and a sorrow so heavy it presses against your chest with every breath. The world feels unfamiliar, as if joy has been drained from its colors. Days blur. Nights ache. And the question—how do I go on?—echoes louder than any answer.

For many, the pain doesn’t fade—it reshapes. It morphs into guilt, anger, and the haunting weight of “what if.” You may find yourself replaying moments, searching for signs, wondering if love alone could have changed the outcome. These thoughts don’t make you weak—they make you human.

The loss of a first child often leaves a unique imprint on mental health. Depression and anxiety may linger like shadows. Joy can feel distant. Connection, even with those closest to you, may feel strained. And sometimes, the sight of other families—whole and smiling—can sting in ways words can’t explain.

Grief is not linear. It’s a labyrinth. And in that maze, you may encounter unexpected emotions: jealousy, resentment, isolation. These are not signs of failure—they are signs of depth. Of love. Of longing.

It’s okay to seek help. Therapy, support groups, even quiet conversations with trusted souls can offer a lifeline. There is no “right” way to grieve, but there are gentler paths through the pain.

The ripple of loss touches more than just the parents. Siblings, grandparents, extended family—they all feel the shift. Relationships may strain under the weight of unspoken sorrow. Physical health may falter. Fatigue, headaches, and a weakened immune system are common companions to grief.

And yet—amid the wreckage—there is a flicker. A memory. A moment. A way to honor the child who changed you forever. Some parents plant trees. Others write letters. Some simply whisper their child’s name into the wind. These rituals don’t erase the pain, but they offer a place to rest within it.

The ache may never fully leave. But over time, it may soften. You may find yourself laughing again. Loving again. Living again—not in spite of the loss, but because of it.

To every parent walking this road: your grief is valid. Your love is eternal. And your story—though marked by heartbreak—is still unfolding.

When Love Turns to Fear: Surviving Domestic Violence

When Love Turns to Fear: Surviving Domestic Violence

Domestic violence doesn’t wear a single face. It can happen in quiet homes, busy cities, and behind the doors of people who seem to have it all together. It doesn’t discriminate—man or woman, rich or poor, young or old. Abuse can find its way into any life, often disguised as love.

When someone you trust begins to hurt you—physically, emotionally, or sexually—it can feel like the ground beneath you has vanished. You may question your reality, your worth, your strength. But hear this: you are not alone, and you are not to blame.

Abusers are skilled at twisting truth. They may convince you that you deserve the pain, that you provoked it, that you’re lucky they stay. But none of that is true. You deserve safety. You deserve respect. You deserve peace.

Reaching out for help can feel terrifying—especially if isolation has been part of the abuse. But there are lifelines. The National Domestic Violence Hotline is one of them. So are shelters, therapists, legal advocates, and trusted friends. You don’t have to walk this path alone.

If you’re in danger, call the police. Domestic violence is a crime, and your safety matters. Officers can help you find shelter, connect you with resources, and begin the process of reclaiming your life.

Healing from abuse takes courage. It’s not a straight line—it’s a winding road with setbacks and breakthroughs. But with support, you can move forward. You can rebuild. You can rediscover joy.

If you have children, protecting them is vital. Abuse leaves invisible bruises on little hearts. Talk to them gently, honestly, and remind them: none of this is their fault. They deserve safety too.

Your body may carry the weight of trauma—fatigue, headaches, tension. Your spirit may feel frayed. So make space for self-care. Whether it’s a walk, a bath, a journal entry, or a moment of stillness—these acts are not selfish. They are survival.

Legal help can also be a powerful tool. Protective orders, custody arrangements, divorce filings—these steps can feel daunting, but they are part of reclaiming your power. You have options. You have rights.

Domestic violence may leave scars, but it doesn’t define you. You are more than what was done to you. You are resilient. You are worthy. And your story—shared or silent—is a beacon for others still in the dark.

Welcome to my journey!

Welcome to My Journey

Life has a way of testing us, and I’ve faced more trials than I ever thought I could endure. My name is Robin, and this blog is my space to share my story—raw, unfiltered, and real.

From battling multiple mental health diagnoses to navigating the stigma of being a felon, my journey has been anything but ordinary. I’ve fought tooth and nail to reclaim custody of my daughters, wrestled with the unimaginable pain of burying a child, and survived the darkness of domestic violence. Sobriety is a fight I take on every single day, alongside the challenges that come with just trying to make it through life.

This isn’t just my story, though—it’s a testament to the resilience we all have within us. I hope that by sharing my experiences, I can connect with others who’ve faced similar struggles and create a space where honesty, healing, and hope thrive.

Thank you for being here. Let’s walk this path together.