For the last 6 or so months I slipped back into depression due to a medication mismatch. More on that later. But it took me a long time to realise because the movement downwards into darkness is sometimes so…

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The year of the snake, mostly in 2025 did not go to plan for me. I don’t think this experience was unique to me. This happened to a lot of people. It delivered more suffering, more grief and painful life lessons than I cared to learn.

Learning how to “let go” as someone who has masked her whole life and tried in a futile way to feel Maslow’s “sense of belonging” has not (and is not) an easy lesson. It’s taking me years of my life to really understand the concept of letting go and the depth of what it means. I believe I’ll be learning how to do it for the next decade. A lot of neural wiring to change. And new habits are not easily formed for me. And my Autistic tendencies are neurological and fixed rather than flexible in some respects.

I saw my first lunar eclipse. My middle daughter (10) woke early enough to witness it with me. It was calm, and stunning and just felt like new beginnings. Despite that, the following two weeks have been a chaotic shitshow of forms, stress, and honestly what has felt like crisis management health wise for my whole family.

At the conclusion of the year of the snake I saw a black tiger snake. It was shiny and a big one and symbolically slithered away into the grasses by the water like it was saying farewell to me. I also had a flashback to getting my first (and still only) tattoo when I was in Melbourne and had just moved from my home state of Tasmania. I felt wild and free after moving with only $150 in my bank account. Plenty of dopamine at the start of that move that’s for sure. As I sat in the chair with I think her name was Sailor Jane I endured the pain, more curious about the physical sensation than horrified, she said to me “you know getting a tattoo doesn’t fix or change anything don’t you?”. I looked at her and knew she was right, but I also didn’t know why I had chosen the Chinese symbol for forgiveness. And yes, I’m ashamed to say it’s a classic “tramp stamp” at the bottom of my spine. But in my defense that term hasn’t even been coined yet. At Uni years later one of my Japanese friends asked me why I had “anger” tattooed. I found this hilarious because that was the feeling that was much more recognizable and constant in my life than forgiveness.

Back then in my parents driveway circa 2001 (? Never trust a date from the past someone with ADHD pulls out of thin air) my poor friend didn’t anticipate the amount of stuff I would pack and “have” to take with me. Neither of us knew at that point I had ADHD and Autism. I like to feel prepared. More than prepared actually so I always carry around enough things to cope quite well even if a Zombie apocalypse breaks out at any moment. But today with my diagnoses finally revealed it now makes sense that I packed her little hatchback to it’s limits full of stuff I thought I would use (including a surfboard I moved around with me until it one day was the victim of crappy tying down effort by my boyfriends well intentioned older brother). I still didn’t get rid of it. Apologies to you Gus as I believe I left that for you to deal with. Her car was a Honda Civic. And she rolled her eyes as I strategically and to her suprise a bit, successfully filled every spare space of that car with my ”stuff”. Anyway, I now know why I’ve accumlated so many things, and started so many projects. And I’m figuring out when to let go and how to do that. I remember as I sailed of to Melbourne watching the water close off my past behind me the escape felt so good. Around that time I fell in sushi. The song Last Night by The Strokes was playing a lot at that time. There’s a timeline anchor for us.

You know, I hadn’t even gotten in to my Uni course. But I was going anyway and planed to just go and try to get in despite being rejected. Lucky I did because my school transcript didn’t get picked up properly by the Uni entry process. They thought I hadn’t even completed English and Maths. I got a 19/20 for both of them. A reminder to you all not to give up, and to question things and check them!

As someone with Autism it is easy to look back on the year 2025 (and the chinese new year that crosses across it) and just reflect on the feelings. And they were fucking intense. Because I have done so mulch therapy I thought I was developing some kind of emotional resilience I now realise I just don’t have access to as an AuDHD human. As someone with ADHD, I kind of see my past in a “how much fun exciting stuff did I get to do?” lens. And my photo reel is always a fascinating mix of terribly mundane things I take photos of to get ChatGPTs help with and flashes of outdoor adventures all over the place. Thank you ADHD for getting me out and about and experiencing what life is all about. But a lot of time was spent in emotional turmoil hiding from the world. To decompress I literally have to go into my room, pull the curtains and exist in darkness. I get sensitive to light still, and when pain creeps in I know it’s time to REST in all caps. Immediately. Easier said than done with three little ones!

I planned (and did in fact) launch and start a new business in January 2025. Intending to transition my business to a different model, a different brand, a fresh start. I set up my first course, sold a few and then the Universe just had its way with me really. I was tossed into a washing machine and all the great work I had been doing health wise was just null and void. The good habits I’d picked up just dissapeared out of my reach. And I was again a victim and at the mercy of my emotions and feelings and impulses for a good…

Well actually until right now I think.

But despite the many happenings in 2025 I’ve realised that a lot of this has been about acceptance of my own real limits. Stopping masking. ceasing to pretend at all. And just be accepting of my wild, ever changing self and my many challenges and sensitivies. Because I have in fact always had to conditions that we in Australia call “disablities” and developed a third in 2017 called Fibromyalgia I believe in part due to never being diagnosed and supported in the ways I needed in childhood and early adulthood. But this isn’t anyone’s fault.

So, here I am, in my newly accepted (but always true) disabled label. I wouldn’t say I’m embracing it but I accept it now. My ego death last year didn’t completely eradicate my sense of pride. For a Leo maybe that’s just a little harder. 😂 And I’m certain I have Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA) so if someone tells me something about myself, my pathological response is always a hard “no” until and unless I decide that for myself. The realization that I’ve hidden my disability related vulnerabilities by achieving and succeeding and being bold has been a hard pill to swallow.

I’ve ceased working at the direction of my long time GP. I know despite the fact I haven’t had the capacity to work since 2017 I know that I’ve learned a lot while trying to push through and continue. Mostly that I shouldn’t have. Haha.

Found this below from around 2020 I think. Still rings true. But add in “son” too.

I hope 2025 bought new lessons and reflections for you all too. Right now my intention is to find ease and flow in life. A fitting one for the start of the year of the horse.

My feelings when I received my Autism diagnosis early this year knocked me for six though. I was not even slightly prepared for the skill regression or depth of grief this one delivered. I thought this second half of the puzzle would potentially deliver me similar feelings but no. The grief was deeper, darker, more painful. And the memories just kept dropping one after the other making me realise just how much I’ve struggled through life and now knowing why. Memory after memory made sense. Meltdown after unexplained meltdown. Failed relationships after failed relationship. Things I could never do that I watched others seem to achieve with ease. The self medication to try to feel comfortable around large groups of people. The feeling more comfortable around people who were high or drunk because, finally, they made more sense without all those stupid inhibitions. The inability to engage in small talk. The sensory assault of just going to a supermarket. They just didn’t stop. And they’re not done yet.

I grieved hard for my 10 year old self, my teenage self, my young adult self. They all dealt with inner turmoil and confusion. Emotional disconnection and disregulation. Complete lack of alignment and inability to understand my own needs or feelings, instead just being absorbed into others over and over until depleted. The inability to manage self care like other humans. Or do the basics like remember to drink water or eat or take vitamins.

I think the stigma surrounding Autism is also much more negative for some reason. And much more connected with the word disability. And for someone like me who has made a life out of perfecting the art of masking. The facade of being fine. Not even, of succeeding over and over in the face of adversity and challenge. It’s all come at a devastating cost to my health and wellbeing though. To my relationships. To my sense of inner peace.

And getting the second layer of my neurodiversity confirmed bought to light the fact that I live with two conditions that often contradict one another. This means that my needs change without warning and severely. One moment I might need loud music to get motivated and moving. The next it might be that I need silence and darkness to just decompress after too much human interaction. The food aversion side of things mean I’ll want something immediately and nothing else will do then the idea of that meal will revolt me so the leftovers go to waste. And I feel guilty.

It’s been about 5 months now since my Autism diagnosis and I’m now also seeing that, for me at least, not having a diagnosis produced a sense of fight in me that motivated me. To kind of fit in. Or survive I guess. Fingers crossed I’m finally going to be able to let my adrenal system get back to homeostasis rather than living in fight and flight mode. Imagine that. I hope this isn’t just another unlikely daydream but time will tell. Now I don’t need to strive, push, fight, I’m feeling a little lost at sea. What’s really happening though I suspect is that I’m finally feeling like I’m able to slow down. Like I have permission.

To just be me.

Unapologetically.

Without justifying why I’m not “normal”. Without expecting myself to be.

And this is the most beautiful transformation I’ve experienced.

Now.

But in the midst of all the processing I honestly wondered how, if, when I would ever start functioning again. Whether I’d manage to get back to the wonderful place of gratitude and love and peace I had managed to find prior to the diagnoses.

But now I feel it. And I hopefully have at least another this amount of time on Earth to explore this newfound sense of freedom.

So many less fucks being given about what anyone thinks of me anymore.

Conversely, so many more fucks being given when it comes to marginalized groups of any sort facing judgement and discrimination. And so much more care and love for those facing a recovery themselves. Whether it’s chronic illness, trauma, acute grief, addiction. Recovery research is my path and I sincerely hope that my lived experience can help those consciously trying to recover in some way, shape or form.

I know I want to help people rediscover their light in times of darkness.

Maybe it’s more about getting comfortable with that fact than fighting against it. The concept of letting go and surrendering is something that keeps coming up in my life. A recovering people pleaser and codependent, I’ve tried to stay sane in the past by controlling as much as possible and trying to focus on and fix and help other people’s problems rather than my own.

And since learning I live alongside my constant companions ADHD and Autism, I now realise why I find all these last minute changes to schedules and plans not just disruptive but disabling. Transitions and change are so difficult for me. I want life to flow in the way I intend it to, for the things I look forward to to always come to fruition. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to change gears more smoothly and that’s ok.

I also feel Fibromyalgia who has changed from my captor and abuser now to my protector, waiting in the sidelines, to give me warning signals via my body to retreat even further before the pain becomes greater. I’m grateful for the role it plays in my life now that it’s not my enemy but my friend.

Learning how to care for myself is my most difficult and a lifelong lesson in realizing. I just watched Elizabeth Gilbert and Glennon Doyle two of my most admired mentors from afar and they are still learning. So maybe it’s just a day by day self discovery process. So instead of stressing, I’m going to accept today is slower. The week has to contract yet again. And I need to make even more space rather than gear up a level. To care for my daughter. And to care better for myself.

I’m going to rally against that “I’m not good enough” feeling that tries to come back to me again and again, remove all I can from today to get through the week easier. Do some yoga and stretching at home instead when I can. And retract and rest.

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A lot about my recovery has been in noticing and amplifying the “glimmers”. There’s a book I know which I’m yet to read but it’s on the list. It’s a concept coined from some intelligent human and is the opposite of a trigger. I certainly haven’t recovered from all my triggers yet but I do take note of and really amplify the things that fill my heart and soul with happiness.

This morning I picked these flowers I grew myself. Dahlias have been this seasons obsession. my son calls the orange ones closer to the bottom the “gruffily” flowers and every time he does it makes my heart sing. He loves watering them with me, noticing the flowers emerging.

This note is a reminder to those recovering to find those moments that light you up and grow them, focus on them, fill more of your day with them.

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But when you’re so busy you’re surviving and burning out every week, you have to get creative with ways to really lift your experience and bring joy and pleasure into your life. I’m lucky because I get a whole lot of joy out of just being with my children and seeing them have fun. But it’s not always like this. And at times in my life even their joy was so far out of reach to me that I couldn’t connect in a meaningful way to it.

My mantra for the last few years and still to a degree as I detach myself from my codependency habits has been…

Invest in and focus on myself.

Sounds pretty simple to those who know how to look after themselves and have an innate sense they are worthy no doubt. But, to me, who has lived a life trying to make others happy to the detriment of my own happiness, it’s no easy feat. I’m still learning.

I’m going to share little things I’ve done that have elevated my happiness and have been simple to implement. Buying this white dressing gown was one of them. When I put it on, despite the fact the same mammoth level of work and energy expenditure faces me each day, I step into this mindset of pampering and indulging myself. Pretending that I’m in a 5 star hotel wrapped in a symbol of luxury really does make me feel joy.

If you’re a recovering people pleaser or a lifelong codependent and have incorrectly thought that you are responsible for the way others feel try injecting little bits of joy into your life. They don’t have to cost any money.

And here’s the thing, I didn’t spend $200 on a luxury dressing gown from Myer. My families financial stability is important to me. I found it online and on sale and bought one that is warm enough and fluffy enough. Good enough.

Get creative and I’ll keep sharing mine here and there.

Become the love of your own life.

When I was first diagnosed back in 2017 it was delivered to me as a kind of doomed sentence. Upon reflection terribly negligent of the Rheumatologist. I’ve realised that hope and self belief are the two things that are most important in chronic illness recovery. And he snatched them away in one session. It was probably due to a lack of understanding. He did give me one useful piece of advice and that’s that exercise has been the one thing linked to recovery. When you can’t move and are in seating all over body pain and your fatigue is all consuming hearing this really instills a sense of hopelessness. The idea of learned helplessness is something I’ll be delving more into at some stage.

But for today, if anyone is reading this and has had a similar experience do not listen to a specialist you see once and give them as much power over your own health as I did. We are all our own healers. And I’m living proof that Fibromyalgia recovery is entirely possible.

Here’s a photo of me madly ecstatic after one of my big jigs recently. I’ll tell you a little about my training so far. Because I have ADHD, Autism and Fibromyalgia my training schedule is simple. And it’s flexible. It’s literally increase distance by a km each month and protect your Monday morning big jog at all costs. There are still things that get in the way and should. Like children getting sick or me getting sick. Or important hard to get appointments. But I just let it go and start up again when I can.

I have a beautiful circuit around a local beach that I adore. It’s flatish but also peppered with beauty and different things to admire. It’s around 3.5km for one circuit.

During my jogs I have my Spotify playlists loudly encouraging me along. There’s a water fountain I drink at around each circuit to refuel a tad. I ignore all dictations and calls. But along the way I also drum, tap, and generally act like the weirdo I am. I also whenever possible will light up someone’s day with positivity. A compliment, a smile. I jogged past a group of ex service people setting up and exclaimed “thank you for your service!” one day. I saw a girl drawing a huge piece in the sand and yelled out “it’s beautiful! And clapped”. I’m comfortable being the weirdo I am now and I just let it out whenever possible.

And at the end I sit and stare at the sea without music. Listening to the waves. Appreciating the sunshine.

I want to jog a marathon distance before I’m 45. To show those struggling with chronic illness recovery is possible. I won’t be joining an event. I prefer to do it alone and quietly and don’t want to make a big fuss of it. It’s just for me, and just for anyone who needs proof that healing is possible. Hope and belief to grab on to.

For the last ten years I’ve actively been trying to choose happiness. I’ve also been actively trying to recover from Fibromyalgia. There have been traumatic events in that ten years including my husband dying suddenly in 2017 which have put huge new mountains in front of me to conquer. I’ve lived a lot of this time in darkness and some in despair and anguish. But I always find my light.

The last five years I’ve been undertaking regular targeting trauma therapy including EMDR. But I’ve finally received a complete diagnosis that helps me understand myself which has lifted a lot of the confusion from my life. Everything now makes sense. When I first realized Autism might come into the mix with me it didn’t make sense but this was because of the ADHD. They both are such different and unique conditions that they are very hard to identify.

Also, as females, gender roles in Australia in my time have encouraged girls to be “good girls” and people please and be compliant without complaint. It’s nowhere near as damaging to females as it used to be but we still have a long way to go. Like so many others my familial norms included stoicism, emotional repression and toxic positivity. These landed me with dysfunctional perfectionism as one of my collected labels along the ways. All making it harder to get into a psychologist and be comfortable being vulnerable about how much I was really struggling and the emotional damage I have carried and continue to carry. “I’m fine” and “Good” have been my bullshit false responses I’ve dealt out in the past to “How are you?” Mostly because surface level social stuff makes me feel nauseous. The alternative to this discomfort for me is oversharing and trauma dumping and this is intense. Then, I usually get traumatic stories relayed back to me and I don’t know what to do with them. So, I now have really high boundaries around any social interaction which have taken a lot of time and energy to build.

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I, like many women my age (I’m 43), was bought up at a time that self sacrifice in women, particularly women, was seen as admirable. Even today, when I spend time with women a generation older I can see they are stuck in this mindset. Martyrdom was sold as the ideal image of the woman, particularly for Mothers.

I’m here to say f*ck that. What a crock of utter shite. As someone who drank this nonsense cool-aide unknowingly and just “kept trying” harder year on year I can safely say it landed me with a chronic health condition which stripped me of my health. It killed my vitality and every good humming part of energy from my life. Striving landed me burned out, hopeless, desperate and bed ridden in agony and without an inch of energy to even manage the basics.

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After years of therapy and focusing on my recovery whilst also focusing on my beautiful children I’ve learned a lot. For me, I’ve always been neurodivergent and this added to my difficulties when I became a Mother. I’m academically smart and sailed through school grade wise even at my most dysfunctional which included much clubbing, experimental drug taking and impulsive, erratic dopamine seeking behavior. But when the realities and demands of babies and children and the sensory overload that came with it hit, the stress piled on and all those things I could do to pretend I was getting by didn’t work anymore. I glitched out regularly. I needed more decompression time but got none and everything felt more and more suffocating despite my intense deep love for my children. My relationships suffered, I couldn’t connect with anyone and I shut down emotionally. And this was the start of my body and brain declining rapidly.

The thing is, the message should never have been that self sacrifice is admirable. Mothers today have the hardest of all jobs. Yes, we have freedoms women didn’t have a generation above us and we’ve come along way. But we’ve also passed through the “I deserve a career too” phase of feminism advancement (hooray!) and now have landed in the “we need two incomes to pay for the cost of living for our family” phase. And for neurodiverse women in particular, these expectations are WILDLY unattainable and damaging in some cases. One of the biggest problems is that perfectionism and hyper independence is something us ND women develop along the way. For me as a result of traumas layered one on top of the other. And for me at least, one of my biggest issues was that I put the pressure on myself to achieve and strive and prove myself over and over again. To someone else my resume looks amazing. But the stories behind the scenes were of dysfunction and a life of struggle, ever present and sometimes crippling anxiety. Depression was a regular guest in life. In fact until recent years I was a slave to my emotions and felt confused and lost. 7 years of therapy and research and commitment to be happy later and that’s all different now. Oh and completely giving up alcohol was a huge positive step for me.

But my point is I generally suffered silently. Because women were just supposed to be aspiring to a Stepford Wives image rather than dancing around freely at festivals in the middle of the forest. Because I wasn’t living up to the standard of a “decent woman” in the eyes of males and other females, I felt like a failure constantly. And when I became a Mother my mind and body went into overdrive trying desperately to become that image despite it not being who I was. Or who I wanted to be.

The thing is, as an AuADHD woman and Mother I had to learn to “try less” and “just be” more. To practice self care. And be compassionate, loving and accepting of myself and the parts of myself I previously saw as “flaws”. To process my emotions, be able to identify them and be able to identify my needs and advocate for them and protect and provide for them.

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This sounds simple. But for me, I felt disconnected from my emotions and needs for the majority of my life. My societal and familial obligations and expectations were driving me and my choices. Not anymore. I’m firmly in the drivers seat of my life. I know how I feel about things. How to use my voice and be heard and how to express my feelings respectfully. I have broken free of co-dependency and any ideas or perceptions of myself I may have been trying to create. And I’m myself unapologetically.

If you’re reading this and you can’t answer the question “how do you feel about that?” in relation to challenging parts of life day to day it’s likely you find it hard to connect with your feelings too.

Here’s the thing. I think that self sacrifice was all wrapped up in the idea of the perfect wife and mother generations ago and there’s this hangover of this old mindset still kicking around. I feel for the women living back then who were neurodivergent and didn’t know and silently suffered and struggled in high heels trying to bake when their mind was going a million miles or daydreaming. I feel for all the women who put themselves aside. Repressed their own hopes and dreams and served their own needs second to their husband. I hope if anyone resonates with this and is reading this you can start rediscovering your own hopes and needs starting today and live them out one by one because it’s never too late.

I’m excited and hopeful for my daughters. And for my son. I can’t wait to teach them all I’ve learned about self acceptance, emotions, health and wellbeing. That you can be kind, respectful, loving and contribute positively without abandoning your own self, hopes and dreams.

Today I am the hot mess Mum who rocks up at school sometimes late. I’ve driven off with my boot open a couple of times of late. Sometimes stuff falls out of the door. I can’t keep up with school notices and our meals are pretty simple but nutritious. I have decompression periods on Sundays and bursts of energy and adventure. I plan work around my cycle and I jog which I love. I do things that bring me joy like grow flowers and read books and explore creative outlets. I don’t go to big social events. I don’t bake or volunteer at school for things I know will stress me out. But I am going to buy a massive speaker and dance with the kids as an activity to teach them about their mind body connection and that there are left of field adults out there too and that differences are worth celebrating. My kids are loved, respected, heard, cared for. But like all parents I’m aware I’m incapable of meeting their every need.

I’m living life free and as me.

It’s not easy. In fact it’s fucking hard. Over and over again. It’s mess and tears and realizations and grief and compassion and disruptive and expensive. It’s emotionally exhausting and time consuming and uncomfortable.

It’s deciding to meet your authentic self. It’s questioning everything your parents taught you and everything you’re told by culture and society to filter it through your own values. It’s reassessing everything and getting to know the real you. It’s saying “no” as a default until you sort through what you really need and want in life. And falling in love with yourself for the first time.

It’s destroying all you know and a rebirth of kinds. And the light at the end of the tunnel finally comes closer and closer.

It’s fighting so your children don’t have to live the feelings you have. The emptiness. The constant confusion. The sense of abandonment.

For me, my ADHD diagnosis was at the end of this seeking and hard work. The end of codependency. A new lightness and freedom I now live with day to day. Hope and a deep sense of inner peace.

I feel for my ancestors. They didn’t have the tools or ability to work through things like I have. They, too were neurodiverse but living in an exclusionary world. A place that felt unsafe to be themselves. It would have felt unsafe to unmask and be themselves. And the roles, particularly of the women, were set and rigid. My generations past coped and still cope with two equally damaging coping mechanisms. One accepted and admired, the other shunned and shamed. In both we abandon ourselves. Overworking and the pursuit of achievement. And the other a scale from self medicating to addiction. Both emotional suppression techniques I’ve engaged in myself.

I’m grateful that the support I have allowed me to embark on this cycle breaking journey. And that the time I live in is open enough to allow shifts in the right direction.

We are only just at the tip of the iceberg when it comes to trauma and understanding how it affects our minds and bodies. I’m going to be right there learning about this listening to the experts brave enough to break protocol like Bessel Van Der Kolk and Gabor Mate.

If you’re doing the same keep going. I’m not “there” yet and know that this is something that needs to be worked at my entire life but I’m committed. To truth telling. To paving the way for a more peaceful existence for my children.

Having both ADHD and Autism is exhausting. The best description I can come up with is that it’s like having two personalities within me that constantly disagree. A small decision like “should I do the laundry now or later” can become a fight to the death between these two sides of me. And some days this is every decision!

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It’s a steep learning curve as an adult learning how to sail this way. The first time I went last weekend I capsized the boat within the first five minutes. Because of course my ADHD brain missed the one crucial bit of information in the briefing session. If you feel like the boat is tipping release the main sail people. 😂 I also got a nice whack to the head with the boom which didn’t hurt at the time but was a bit tender to the touch afterwards. So first lesson got all those important lessons out of the way!

If you had told me 10, 7, 5 or even 3 years ago I would be honestly feeling like I’m living my best life at 43 I wouldn’t have believed you. But dogged determination and a whole lot of therapy and hard work has gotten me here. And I’m happy, healthy and brimming with energy and excitement about what the future holds.

Yes, I’m now one of those annoying people living their best life. When I was chronically ill though, healthy, vibrant, happy people seemed like strange mirages. Somehow not real. Somehow not possible. Some part of me even thought maybe there was some luck or fortune bestowed upon these people I could never feel myself. Maybe the deep wound of “I’m not good enough” having its limiting effect on my mindset.

Total honesty until now I’ve been living my life dissociated, depressed and anxious. Childhood trauma kicked off a life of confusion and negativity. I leaned on alcohol and drugs like most do to numb the feelings. I’m now over 3 years living a sober life. Although never an “addict” I managed to avoid the stigmas but let me tell you upon reflection even at a culturally acceptable (even admired can you believe it!) level my drinking was extremely problematic to my mental health.

Anyway, this post is just a small one to celebrate a huge win for me. This was my major bucket list item for the year and now I’ve got an exciting new sport to enjoy. Growth, Freedom and Adventure are three of my personal values and sailing encompasses them all! With a lofty goal in my sights to one day sail to Port Davey on the West Coast of Tasmania for some exploration of some of our gorgeous States most wild and inaccessible areas I’m giving myself even more to look forward to.

To anyone out there thinking this isn’t possible, you’re wrong. You, too can recover and heal if you need to. Then live your best life too. Beyond the challenges and fear there are great things ahead.

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Fibromyalgia Recovery Green Smoothie Recipe

1 teaspoon of vital greens powder (a tonne of good shit in this - many super everything’s and pro and pre good gut stuff) I’m in Australia but if you call a health food store and tell them you want a green powder with pre and probiotics and as many superfoods and greens packed in as possible they will hook you up.

1 banana (fresh or frozen) 🍌

Small handful frozen blueberries 🫐

Small handful frozen raspberries or strawberries 🍓 or mango 🥭

1 cup of coconut water

1 cup of almond or soy milk

A big heaped teasooon of your favourite natural yoghurt

Honey or tiny bit of vanilla essence if you want some more sweet

And ashwaganda powder (quarter of a teaspoon) if you are suffering from anxiety

Warning ⚠️

This smoothie does not look appetizing. In fact it looks so bad that when I whip one out and take it with me I get funny stares and looks of distaste. What it is though is packed full of great vitamins and stuff that will get your system an injection of goodness.

And there’s no need for evil Kale 🥬 to make an appearance so bonus!

After getting my ADHD diagnosis I realised how often I forgot to eat. And because I’m always experiencing the sensation of time melting and disappearing I’m often running out the door without remembering to eat. Within 5 minutes I have this made and in my car seat holder, ready to horrify another onlooker and at the same time exercise some significant self care for my body.

Try it and see how you go. And if you don’t like something about it mix and match and change it up. Try different fruits or measures. And try to avoid dairy milk just in case. It can be an allergen for some.

The honest truth is that I lived a decade in depression and despair. From 2013 to 2023 my life was peppered with trauma, illness and challenges in every area of my life. They came thick and fast and I had no idea how to deal with it all. And there was so much of it including those two huge big T traumas that I quite often thought the darkness would never end. But it has.

I didn’t realise it at the time but becoming a Mother for the first time sent my self identity and mental health spiralling due to undiagnosed neurodiversity. I was quietly battling it all alone, feeling “not good enough”. Not knowing what was happening, just that my mood was consistently low or erratic, I couldn’t regulate my emotions or express them freely (because I was dissociated without realising it) and that my physical body wasn’t working. Despair and desolation were constant feelings. And my grief and loss bought the kind of emotional torture and pain and anguish that felt unbearable at times.

Become the women we dream of being. Love our life, our way. 

I drew this picture and wrote this quote on our chalkboard in our beautiful character cottage in countryside Tasmania. It was to remind myself not to lose myself in love or others. But I did. Because trauma and patterns are not easy to break and change. I plunged back into darkness and lost my way again. Again and again in fact. It was also to show my daughters a moment of inspiration and intuition and beauty that somehow emerged from me as if my magic.

Over the last couple of months someone I love mentioned to me offhandedly, “I felt happiness again. I don’t remember how long it’s been since I have.” This reminded me of that point in life. When we become depressed and plunge into darkness there’s no signpost moment to tell us we are going down. But when we start to rise up again in our level of self-awareness our bodies and minds align and we notice. And it’s a beautiful moment. 

So, for those of you who are in your darkness I want you to know that one day this will happen to you. The stars will align and it might catch you by surprise. But it will certainly remind you what it feels like to FEEL joy in your body and soul once again. 

When you do feel it get curious. And chase it. Find it, wherever it’s hiding. Mine when it returned was a bit like Tinkerbell, a cheeky elusive little sprite popping up, not really explaining why, then disappearing again just as quickly. Self-reflect on your behaviour and create plans on how you can try catch it in a game of hide and seek. Then when you do, hold it, enjoy it then let it go until the next time. 

I’ve figured out where it is for me. But it’s taken years, almost a decade of consistent work, therapy, reparenting, researching and self-discovery. But I no longer have to look, it’s now a warm feeling enveloping my middle area and its constant and not leaving again. And for those in darkness this is absolutely possible. 

My timeline is unique. I had years of challenges in both mental and physical health, relationships, self identity. Deaths, grief, diagnoses, the birth and sleep challenges that came with becoming Mother to my third child (eternally grateful for this). 

If you’ve read to this point chances are you’re in darkness now or know someone that is. I believe the secret to healing (even when we’ve been told we can’t) is that we need 100% commitment, absolute faith and unwavering persistence. To heal we need time self reflect, learn how to grow and change and let go. Get help from the right professionals and work at it week in week out bit by bit and learn to rest. 

Because at the end of the tunnel of darkness there is always light and it’s fucking radiant let me tell you. 

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I know there are difficult and horrific things going on globally. My boycotting is not related to my level of care for others either. I continue and serve and give in my life now I’m able. It’s just that the feelings the news evoked were so negative within me and I’ve been trying for 7 years now to find my way back to health.

I used to connect “keeping up with global events” with my sense of intelligence somehow and maybe even my personal worth. But now I realise this was just an inherited mindset. I am so much more free and happy now I’m just focusing on my local community. My fears are more grounded and realistic. My mind less clouded by factors in earnest mostly out of my control.

If you haven’t come across it yet and if you’re an empath (particularly one never taught about boundaries and conditioned to think you’re responsible for other peoples feelings - spoiler alert: you’re not) we all have a “circle of concern” and within that a much, much, smaller circle of control.

I think healing is all a process of letting go of responsibility for others feelings. Of finding and articulating our own needs, even if it means digging deep and saying them out loud.

For those thinking not reading the news is apathetic of me, I do my part and I’m a responsible human. I’m working to improve and reduce my own impact on the environment and also teaching my children how to contribute locally and within our household. I contribute time and energy to causes close to my heart regularly.

But here’s the thing.

Watching the news doesn’t add anything positive to my life. It never has. And ignorance is bliss as they say. So I’m giving you permission to ignore the news.

I recommend instead using your energy to research your own healing and health. To find and read recovery stories of others with your chronic health condition who are now thriving and happy. Gather those feelings of hope and inspiration and hold them tight. They will grow little by little as you experience break through after breakthrough.

And to numb and avoid those negative feelings when it gets too much with a healthy dose of fiction and fantasy stories, whatever format you’re able to consume them in in your current state.

Keep healing.

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I set myself a realistic goal at the start of 2024 to jog 10km outdoors by the end outdoors. And today I clocked 8km outdoors.

My training “schedule” has been pretty ADHD and had to allow for kids getting sick and I’ve tried to make the bigger jogs in my cycle stages that are more conducive to cardio exercise. Having said that it’s “rage week” this week (aka luteal phase) and I forgot and just did this one so oh well!

I’ve done 10km on the treadmill but outdoors is so much more challenging with the elements and inclines. For some context my last Fibromyalgia flare up was probably two years ago. And I’ve just gone through a Tasmanian winter without a hint of one. A few aches here and there and fatigue which three kids and running your own business will deliver either way.

I’ve set myself a goal today to do a marathon by the time I’m 45 so in another 1.5 years. Pretty sure if I nail that there won’t be too many people able to convince me I haven’t fully recovered from my “incurable illness”.

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I am evolving. And rewilding.

I am no longer a slave to my emotions, my phone, my ego, my friendships, my work, my career path, my goals, my desires or anything else.

I’ve been shedding “shoulds” for years now. Saying “no” until it now feels comfortable. Focusing on my own path and world, and not contributing to others agendas or playing the roles they would prefer I play.

The memories and specific moments in time I moved further from my true self have been popping up. They’ve been interrupting me at strange times, taking me back like little bursts of applause, celebrating the progress I’ve made. I’ve had the feeling of returning to my younger self. Reconnecting with her. Seeing where I took a wrong turn and seeing where I abandoned myself.

I’m experiencing a reconnection with my spirit and soul. My authentic self. Yes it sounds woo woo and whack and crazy. But it’s true. And it’s the best fucking feeling. It’s indescribable. And slow. And somehow building and foundational. It’s a movement towards feeling secure. And safe.

I used to talk to spirits and hear them too. I could feel them encouraging me, lifting me up, helping me glow and shimmer. The moment this stopped was when my brother told me I was scaring him. I didn’t want to scare him and stopped searching, stopped listening. I’m sure as I continue to realign with myself I’ll redevelop this intuition and I can’t wait.

Carrying the idea that I’m terrible at art and then recently rediscovering a school report showing I got all As. And then my daughter using the word “creative” as one of the three to describe me. Both of these things took me by surprise and make me glow!

My grandmother’s voice keeps returning to me reminding me to “write. write. write” out of nowhere like a reminder. I can see her sparkling eyes. She was spiritual and gifted and wild.

The moment in time someone asked me to go with them to Africa as they had nabbed a spot with National Geographic. I said no.

The moment that I didn’t get into the choir for a school play when I was so nervous to try out (and now I realise my name was probably just missed off the list because everyone else got into the choir and could be involved, why didn’t I ask why?).

The times I’ve just stayed in the background in relationships, putting my dreams on hold, not speaking up, not daring to talk about them for fear I might not be worthy of making them happen.

The many many times I was corrected and given unsolicited advice about how I “should” be doing something. Relentless, constant, harassing.

The moments when I’ve looked at what my friends enjoy things like shopping, going to the hairdresser, going out together for dinner. Berating myself for not liking what they like and trying to shift myself into someone I’m not.

The times that I’ve succumbed to cultural norms even if they didn’t fit right. Hair straightening. On trend clothes.

Trying to “do the right thing” and be a “good girl”.

Only now I realise, I’ve been floating above my body, unable to feel grounded and myself. I’ve been lost, wandering, confused. And now I’m starting to feel grounded and at peace. I can feel the positive vibes humming at times in my body now. I’m no longer floating, I’m not just firmly grounded in my own body and feet. But travelling inwards further.

I’m not a good girl. I’m a wild one.

I don’t like rules. And I don’t do conformity.

And to admit that openly makes me feel free and light.

I don’t give a shit about status or wealth building or appearances.

I care about feelings and adventure. Justice and freedom. Equity and connection. Wellbeing and creativity. Truth. And love.

These days words emerge from out of nowhere that I haven’t heard or read anywhere. They point me in the right direction, give me reassurance and guidance. They help me in this healing journey.

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I wasn’t taught but my pride was the biggest barrier. And my deep sense of feeling unworthy that I’ve now left behind. I didn’t even recognise it when extremely sick. But it was there and one of the emotional wounds that was contributing to all this illness in my opinion. I tried to do it all myself. And that was my mistake.

If I could go back I would tell myself “dig deep to figure out what you need and then articulate this clearly to those trying to help you. Let them in and also find a way to give them clear instructions. You’re not a burden. You need help to heal and people who love you there willing to help. Tell them you need nourishing, healthy food you can just heat or even better just grab and eat (and for this to be restocked and maintained). Tell them you need them to talk about their own lives, not ask about yours because you want to hear stories of positivity and hope. Tell them you don’t want them to ask how you are anymore because the burden of reassuring them is too much. Tell them you need them to take the kids on fun nature filled adventures to shift the guilt away from you. Tell them you need them to reassure you. Tell them you need them to take on the financial responsibly of the household, to look into insurance, to do all the mental load work that goes along with the kids while you reset. Tell them you don’t want to be invited to social events because the idea is overwhelming.”

Whatever it is you need, find it, dig deep and figure it out. Don’t be afraid of asking. Trust they love you and you’re not a burden. Not doing this early on was one of my biggest mistakes. I hope you can learn from it and it helps with your healing journey.

If you know someone with Fibromyalgia share this with them. The recovery tips will always be free. And I plan to keep dribbling them out and reflecting on my recovery path to deliver them in bite sized pieces. They won’t ever be long posts. When we have chronic fatigue everything takes energy, even reading so they will be short and sweet.

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About a year ago I decided that this was going to be my mantra. I knew that I focused on other peoples problems to avoid my own and that I needed space to reconnect with myself and work through things. When our rental that was modest and ok and worked fell through after we were accepted due to the landlord not ensuring one of our conditions that was verbally accepted not putting it in writing I felt devastated.

My heart was set on the space and I was left crying and upset. But, this disappointment like so many others in my life was a blessing in disguise.

The Chinese Farmer Story is one that has hit me hard the last few years. It’s an ancient Chinese Buddist story and has been a great one I’ve returned to to remind myself I don’t really know what’s coming next. Have a read here of the basics. I’d like to find a more accurate historical retelling one day.

A chinese farmer is met with experiences that on the outset appear they should evoke a specific kind of response. For example, a horse of his runs away and someone says “such bad fortune!” To which he replies, “maybe yes, maybe no, we will see”. The moral is basically that things that occur that seem to be a certain way on the surface end up being surprising. I’ve fallen in love with it and me not getting this rental was a good example.

After I got back on the horse (terrible pun intended) I searched again and came across a few rentals. Two were at a higher price than I would usually allow myself. One was within original budget and worked. One I fell in love with and honestly as I walked in door my thought was “I don’t deserve to live in a place like this”. I was wrong and every day I am here, the views have been therapeutic to me. The sunrises I have seen here have offered me so much grace, so much peace, so much hope.

This intention to “focus on and invest in myself” has helped me learn how to excercise self care. How to let go of the idea that valuing myself and my needs is selfish. It’s not. It’s the path to emotional freedom, healthier relationships and a happier me. And I’m getting better at it every single day.

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