Tag: battle

Making Friends With the Wild Things

carissaricci

Have you ever been in a trust fall before? How about one where the person that was supposed to catch you didn’t? If you’ve ever experienced that literally (I hope you didn’t break anything) or figuratively (which can be worse than the physical fall), it can lead to a bit of hesitancy to trust anything again.

At the beginning of each new year, I set an intention for the year ahead. Despite some unfortunate experiences in my past (I’ll let you guess whether they were literal, figurative, or a combo), I went out on a limb and chose “trust” as my word for 2023. My goal was to trust the natural unfolding of life and—more importantly—that I would be able to handle whatever came my way.

Exploring a New Perspective on the Oregon Coast

As we’re approaching the end of the year, I’ve been reflecting on where these months and that word has taken me. Trust started out as an intention, but quickly morphed into a mantra I found myself repeating frequently (usually preceded by the deepest of breaths and the occasional eye roll).

The company I worked for imploding within 48 hours…not sure if I had a job? Trust.

Caught in a major delay on a train from Bilbao to Barcelona…no idea what was going on or if I was going to make it safely to where I was staying that night? Trust.

A number of major appliances going out on me…wondering what might break next? Trust.

My dog facing a variety of health issues…no clue if she was going to pull through? Trust.

And now? I’m facing so many more unknowns in my life. Trust? Well…I’m giving it my best shot. Sometimes I can lean into it, but most of the time, it’s a daily battle.  

When I think back to other times in my life that I’ve been on this side of unknowns, I remember how I felt…just like I do now. I imagine it feels like what a skydiver would feel right before they jump out of the plane. I know that the hardest part is usually the “in between”. The waiting. The uncertainty. The moment right before we jump.

We like to know where we’re headed and what it will look like. Feel like. This season is asking me to take leaps without knowing. Without certainty. Without answers. It can feel brutal to be in that battle sometimes—and there’s the added “bonus” that we also might encounter a few monsters along the way. We often try to run from our demons, but I’ve been exploring what it looks like to let them co-exist with me—asking them what they have to teach me.

And when I feel like running, I go back to these wise words by T.N. Trivett to help keep me grounded:

Turn into yourself. Face what frightens everyone else. Meet your monsters1 and love them like children. Give them a meadow to breathe safe and wild in. Be a shrewd gatekeeper, as not everyone knows what to do with shadowed creatures. Make peace with them and read their maps. They’re hand-drawn in crayon and the colors will point you home.

Sometimes when I’m in the dark and trying to find my way home, I feel like I’m simultaneously too much and not enough. Like I want to apply the “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” philosophy to my life and try to make myself into something that’s “just right” for the world. But the world needs me the way I am…not the Goldilocks version of it. Nayyirah Waheed talks about how “The fear of not being enough and the fear of being ‘too much’ are exactly the same fear. The fear of being you.” And the process of letting go of that fear is an ongoing one.

My life today looks nothing like what I thought it would (even just five years ago), but I know I’m headed in the right direction. I can feel it. I’m tapped into the depths of my soul in ways I’ve never been before. Has it been a smooth road? Absolutely not. But for every bump along the way, I’ve also had moments of deep connection with others that help shore me up and get me through. For every time I’ve felt unsure of my way forward, I’m sent a reminder (in some form or another) that I’ve got this. And when things feel overwhelming, that’s usually when my dog decides to give me a few extra snuggles…letting me know that comfort can often be found in the smallest of moments.

If you’re in a similar spot—struggling to trust and wondering if you’ve got what it takes—keep putting one foot in front of the other. Even if they feel like teeny tiny baby steps. I know that leaning into trust can be difficult sometimes. The days can feel dark. The path forward might appear uncertain. Remember who you are in those moments. Resist the fear of being utterly and completely yourself. The world needs YOU—just as you are. The full, unedited version.

So, let’s kick that Goldilocks and the Three Bears2 philosophy to the curb—it’s outdated, overrated, and just plain boring. If you’re still feeling some hesitation, know that you don’t have to do it alone. Let’s pull that curtain back together and share our magic with the world. It’s time.

1 When I picture those demons or monsters, I always think of the book Where the Wild Things Are…my monsters are definitely Wild Things.

2 No offense to Robert Southey. I very much enjoyed the story as a child…but as an adult, it doesn’t have quite the same appeal. #justsaying

Turning Grief Into Action

carissaricci

Trigger Warning: Death, Suicide, Mental Health

This year will be seven years since a good friend took his own life. Seven years. Every time I think about it, I’m immediately transported back to the moment I found out and exactly how it felt to hear those words. I have lost a lot of people in my life. In tragic ways. In unexpected ways. Whenever it happened, the grief cycle felt familiar—until that day. This was different. The denial was THICK. I literally couldn’t wrap my mind around what I was being told. It didn’t compute. This vibrant, charismatic, brilliant, funny, full-of-life friend…gone. And in a way that was unimaginable to me. My brain couldn’t comprehend it.

The next week was spent in the densest mental fog I’ve ever navigated. Coming to terms with the reality took…well, if I’m being honest, I’m still grappling with it. Grieving someone who leaves life in this way is an elusive beast. There is no closure. No rationalizing with it. And the relentless questions like, “What if I had just…?” plagued me as I analyzed every tiny detail of the last encounters I had with him. 

Shortly after I got the news, someone who was trying to comfort me said, “Life is hard. Some people just aren’t strong enough to make it.” My heart rate immediately skyrocketed. I was incensed. I knew that this was coming from a well-meaning place, but in the midst of my deep grief, the anger surfaced. Sharp and ready. Somehow, I managed to regulate myself enough to make a simple statement about how when someone makes that decision, it isn’t because they aren’t “strong” enough. 

Whether for a sprained ankle or chronic anxiety, we all deserve to feel unashamed to ask for help.

Needing support with mental health care does not mean someone is weak or lazy. They are not broken or deficient. They are not selfish. Yet these are some of the very reasons why people often don’t seek help—because they feel like they will be viewed in these ways. Weak. Lazy. Broken. Deficient. Selfish. These descriptors are categorically untrue, but words and perceptions hold a lot of weight in our world. Imagine these words being used to describe you if you broke your leg. Would it feel different to seek care if you thought that’s how people saw you? If they thought you should just be able to “tough it out”? 

I want to live in a world where everyone feels empowered to find the care and support they need. Whether for a sprained ankle or chronic anxiety, we all deserve to feel unashamed to ask for help. When I think about my friend and other bright souls who left this earth too early, the words, “It didn’t have to be this way” play over and over in my head. And that breaks my heart even more. They won’t get to see another sunrise or sunset. They won’t get to spend time with people they care about or make new memories on trips they would have taken. They won’t get to see the incredible impact they had on the other humans in their circle. They aren’t getting to experience their futures which were once full of possibilities. 

We must take action.


View from the end of a pier in Southern California—thinking about all the things.

I invite you to become an advocate in this space if you aren’t already—let’s do whatever we can to normalize this topic. For current generations, future generations, and those we’ve already lost to this battle. Let’s use the fire of their memory to light the way forward.

I’ve heard people say, “Check on your strong friends,” but I’d encourage us to do one better. Let’s check on all of our friends and make sure they know they’re loved and supported.

Whether you’ve lost someone in this way or not, we can all contribute to spreading the message that it’s okay to ask for help. In that spirit, a dear friend has kicked off a dream she’s had for awhile now. Please check out the Phoenix website for some creative ways to remind people that they matter and where to go for support. If you or anyone you or anyone you know is looking for mental health resources, she has curated a helpful list here.

I’ve heard people say, “Check on your strong friends,” but I’d encourage us to do one better. Let’s check on all of our friends and make sure they know they’re loved and supported. Let’s start having the uncomfortable conversations and reinforce the message that there is no shame in asking for help. If you hear someone say things like, “Well, I guess they just weren’t strong enough”, let’s be brave and speak up. It’s long past time to change the narrative…and it starts with each one of us. 

Disclaimer: This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your mental health professional or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have.