mental-health

Being upset on behalf of others only makes matters worse

Something I have noticed over the past year or so is that a lot of my spiritual and emotional unrest occurs on behalf of others. I have porous emotional boundaries and, when someone around me is upset about something, I find myself getting upset about it as well. It’s not even that they are asking me to be upset. I just take it upon myself. 

Ever since I can remember, even if I don’t act like it, I’ve been extremely sensitive to the thoughts and feelings of those around me. I can feel what others are feeling and it affects me deeply. While this sensitivity may be useful at times, it is also a hindrance to my own peace and emotional integrity. 

I don’t know how or why I developed this sensitivity to the feelings of others. At some point in my life, I’m sure it served as a defense mechanism of some sort. If I could sense what others were feeling before they acted on it, if I could anticipate their needs, I could then either defuse a potentially volatile situation or protect myself from whatever was coming my way. 

The problem is that I can’t shut this sensitivity off. It’s like my emotional feelers are turned up to ten all of the time and it’s exhausting. If I’m around people who are happy, it makes me happier. If I’m around people who are at peace, I’m more peaceful. If I’m around people who are hurt or angry, I’m also hurt or angry.

For this reason, I often crave solitude in order to recharge. If I’m going to be around others, I prefer the intimate company of one or two people at a time. Or, if I have to be around a lot of people, I need to know that there is a way out in case I get overwhelmed or overstimulated. 

Where I run into trouble, however, is when someone close to me is angry, hurt, or disturbed by something. Whatever they feel, I feel it too. If they are mad about something or at someone, I find myself feeling the same way, even if I wasn’t mad before. If they are hurt or saddened, I become hurt or saddened as well. It’s not even helpful. In fact, it tends to make things worse. 

My being upset on someone else’s behalf, when they didn’t even ask me to be, has caused me way more grief than gain. It has gotten me into arguments and fights I had no business in and it has cost me a lot of joy and peace. This is not something I’m proud of, but I used to be. 

I used to think that I was doing other people a favor by getting upset on their behalf. I was their ally and I was fighting for them so they should be grateful. As it turns out, however, amplifying negativity doesn’t improve anyone’s life, least of all my own. 

I’m not entirely sure what the solution is, but I know that I’m not solving any problems by getting upset. In fact, I have made many situations and relationships much worse by adding to the conflict instead of being an example of peace and harmony amidst it. In some circumstances, it has cost me or nearly cost me important friendships. 

I know that Jesus expects more from me than this. Being sensitive, being empathetic, is not, in and of itself, a bad thing. In fact, it is kind of a superpower. Like all superpowers, however, it can either be used for good or for evil. Jesus loves me exactly as I am, but he also commands that I “be perfect, therefore, as [my] heavenly Father is perfect (Matthew 5:48, NIV)” which means that if this trait is causing me problems, I must be willing to “cut it off (Matt 5:30).” 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Isolation is not solitude and God is good

One of the reasons the c-vid lockdowns were so hard on me personally is that it is very easy for me to stay home for extended periods of time without leaving the house or interacting with anyone else. Isolation is my default state. And it’s simply not healthy. 

It takes a lot of effort, and has taken a lot of spiritual work, for me to want to be around other people. Left to my own devices, I would much rather hide. With food, water, and electricity, I would gladly stay in the house for long periods of time with no interactions with the outside world. In fact, the longer I stay in, the less I want to or am capable of going out. 

I’m not talking about solitude. Solitude is a healthy spiritual state wherein a person seeks God in the quiet, alone times. I’m talking about isolation. I’m talking about turning my back on God and my fellows. 

Isolation is not about pursuing one’s spiritual depths in a quiet place. Isolation is the unhealthy practice of disconnecting with the world in order to be alone with oneself. In solitude, I practice transcending self. In isolation, I obsess over self. 

The c-vid lockdowns, for me, were about forced isolation. They exacerbated my anxiety, i.e. “self-centered fear,” and amplified my fears and insecurities around socializing. Perhaps most importantly, however, the lockdowns gave me an excuse to revert back to the agoraphobia and paranoia I had spent so many years trying to overcome. 

Outside of the spiritual work I had done, which by time c-vid hit I had largely fallen away from, martial arts, specifically Brazilian jiu-jitsu had become a major social outlet for me. In addition to being great exercise for the body and mind, jiu-jitsu was the place I went to be around other people and to connect in a healthy, positive way. But just like that, I was no longer allowed to do jiu-jitsu and I began withdrawing back into isolation. 

Before I had to stop doing it, I don’t think I fully comprehended how important jiu-jitsu had become to my life. It was where I pushed myself physically, stretched myself mentally, and where I saw and interacted with my friends in the second most intimate way I believe one person can interact with another. 

As soon as I realized that our academy was going to be shut down, I began to feel my old self creeping back in. My life started to feel like it was collapsing in on me, my connection to the outside world was being broken, and I started having anxiety attacks. 

I can honestly say that emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually, the lockdowns were one of the most challenging times of my life. So much of the spiritual and psycho-emotional progress I had made over the previous years all seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye. But it was not all bad. 

The lockdowns forced me to take a look at myself and where the foundation I had built for myself in previous years was not as sturdy as it needed to be if I were going to thrive into the future. If I’m being honest, it broke me, but in this brokenness, I began to pray. I began asking God to take away the things that I was holding onto that were blocking me from being the person he wanted and needed me to be. And God answered my prayers. 

Over the course of several years, what was at first brokenness turned out to be exactly the spiritual death I needed in order to be reborn as God would have me. I began seeing a therapist who helped me reconnect with my spiritual path. I reconnected with the religion of my childhood, Christianity, in a new, deeper, and more personal way. I refocused my efforts on being healthier, both physically and mentally, being a better husband and father, and being a better teacher and mentor, both in jiu-jitsu and in other aspects of my life. 

As the result of this transformation, now when I am alone, it is not isolation, but solitude because I know that I am not actually alone. God is with me and much of my alone time is in pursuit of a better relationship with him. But I also appreciate even more the time I get to spend with others, whether it be at jiu-jitsu or with my wife and daughter. 

In the end, as much as I resisted the lockdowns, everything that caused them, and all of the consequences of them, some of which we are still feeling, they helped me to see that God is ultimately in charge. He uses even the worst circumstances to draw us closer to him if we are willing, and his love does not stop pouring out into our lives simply because the world shuts down. As St. Teresa of Avila said, “God writes straight with crooked lines.” 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Please use your inner voice

My daughter had a dance performance at school to day. It was the result of a week-long special program brought into her school where the kids were taught different dance styles from the 1900’s, spanning from the 1910’s through the 1990’s. I have to say, having been born in the late 1970’s, hearing people refer to that era as “the 1900’s” definitely made me feel old. It’s hard to believe that there are twenty five year olds who were born in the year 2000, but I suppose that is how every aging person feels at one point or another. 

Where was I? Oh yeah. My daughter had a dance performance at school today which my wife and I were planning to attend. My sister-in-law was also going, and my wife and her were going to ride together because they had plans to go out after. 

The performance wasn’t until early afternoon, so I went to jiu-jitsu class in the morning. When I was leaving class, I got a text from my wife that said her sister was at our house and she was taking a nap in my daughter’s room. She then sent me a text that said, “When you come home, please use your inner voice.” 

English is my wife’s second language and, while she speaks, reads, and writes it as well as most Americans, sometimes she mixes up slang or common American sayings. In this case, she clearly intended to say, “When you come home, please use your inside voice,” and I knew what she meant. Still, her actual words caught my attention. 

While it is sometimes necessary for me to be told to “use my inside voice” because I can get rather excited and, with that excitement, my volume tends to increase without me realizing it, I can honestly say that I’ve never been told to “use my inner voice before,” at least not in those words. That said, if I’m being honest, it felt less like a typo or misunderstanding, and more like a sign. It’s something I needed to read and it’s been on my mind all day. 

We could all do well to use our inner voice more often. I know I could. There are so many instances every day where that quiet whisper of God is drowned out by the world or by my own selfishness, pride, fears, and desires. Temptations are loud, obtrusive, and easy to give in to. 

We don’t have to practice listening to temptation. It will gladly impose itself on us without any effort on our part. Listening to our inner voice, on the other hand, requires a great deal of discipline, effort, and time. This is why practicing silence is so important, why meditation or contemplative prayer are essential components of the spiritual journey. Without making time for silence, without making time for listening to God, we may find that our inner voice is too quiet to hear when we need it most. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

The resistance is like a church bell ringing in my soul

I’m supposed to be writing my graduate school admission essay, but it’s hard. It’s hard because it matters. It’s hard because it’s personal. It’s hard because it’s about me and that brings up all of my fears, insecurities, and self doubt. 

Doing something like this brings me face to face with the stories I tell myself about my worth and my worthiness, about what it means to be accepted, and about what it means to be loved and received as I am, not as I pretend to be. 

Writing about myself, why I want this, and why I am the right candidate and this is the right school for me terrifies me because it exposes me. It exposes me because I refuse to give them only part of me. I don’t know how, and that’s not what they are asking for. It terrifies me because, if I give them all of me, what if that is not good enough? 

This fear, this paralyzing, mind-numbing, soul-shaking fear is how I know it’s important. It’s how I know it’s real. It’s how I know that I have to do it. The fear tells me where to go, even if I don’t want to go there, even if I hate the feeling of moving forward. 

The resistance is like a church bell ringing in my soul. It won’t leave me alone. It calls to me. It draws me nearer. It’s an inevitability. With every passing day and every toll of the bell, I can feel the pull toward the work that I must do. Even as I write this, seemingly in avoidance of the call, it has brought me one step closer to finishing the hard work of facing myself. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Meditating on not saying something stupid and regretful to my wife

At night, my wife wears a night-guard from the dentist because she grinds her teeth when she sleeps. Often at night, before going to bed, she talks to me with the night-guard in her mouth and I find it extremely annoying. My hearing is not the greatest and, in spite of the fact that her English is near perfect, English is her second language which can sometimes make her more difficult to understand than if she was a native English speaker. Combine these two factors with the night-guard, and her speech sounds mumbly to me, which often frustrates me more than it should. 

Tonight, was one of those nights. I came home after spending several hours at the jiu-jitsu academy for kids classes followed by team pictures for my daughter’s wrestling team and, when I got here, it was relatively late and my wife was already ready for bed. My daughter and I both needed to shower and eat dinner, and while we were each getting squared away for the evening, my wife began talking to me about something. She had the night-guard in and I immediately got irritated. 

As I felt myself growing increasingly more annoyed, the thought came to me that I had not yet eaten dinner. I was hungry, tired, and wanted to take a shower. Maybe my irritation had nothing to do with my wife talking to me with her night-guard in her mouth. Maybe I simply needed to eat, clean up, and sit down. It then occurred to me how many of our marital spats might be avoided altogether if one or both of us simply acknowledged that the thing we think is bothering us is not actually the thing that is bothering us. 

Life is funny this way. Very rarely is the perceived problem the actual problem. There is often more going on beneath the surface than what presents itself at a superficial level. But it can be very difficult to go deeper when we are always in a reactionary state to the stimulus that is right in front of us. Without a buffer between ourselves and our environment, the world bumps into us and we bump back into it. It’s like a never-ending pinball game of actions and emotions. 

The very fact that I did not react to my wife when she was talking to me with her night-guard in, in spite of my being hungry, tired, dirty, and grouchy is unusual for me. It is not in my nature to keep my mouth shut when something irritates me. I have a long history of speaking up with the wrong words at the wrong time. I’m very good at making things worse. But I have noticed that something has been different with me lately. Something has been changing. 

I’ve observed that I am not nearly as reactionary as I used to be. I have far fewer knee-jerk reactions to the things that annoy me. In fact, I’ve noticed that fewer things annoy me these days. I have no doubt that this change that has taken place within me is the direct result of a consistent meditation practice. 

For quite some time now, I have been extremely disciplined about setting aside time every morning to meditate before I leave the house. I try to do this before my wife and daughter wake up. Along with my other prayer and spiritual reading, meditation is an essential part of my morning routine. In fact, it is probably the part of my morning I look forward to the most when I wake up each day. 

There are many different forms and styles of meditation and I have tried several over the years, but the one that works best for me, and the one I have stuck with for the longest, is called centering prayer or contemplative prayer. There’s just something about this particular style of meditation that really resonates with me and, like I said, I look forward to my quiet time each morning. 

It took a while before I started to see results from my meditation practice which was a bit frustrating when I first started out. Like most of us, I wanted to see immediate, noticeable results. I wanted instant gratification and instant transformation. Spiritual change is often slow change, however. Unless you have some kind of life-changing white light or burning bush experience, you are likely to have what I have heard referred to as “the educational variety” of spiritual experience. That is, if you practice consistently, change will come slowly, over a long period of time. 

As I said, one of the changes that I have seen from my meditation practice is that I am less reactionary. It’s as if meditation has given me a built-in pause button that allows me to process stimuli for a moment before reacting to it. This buffer between the world and my reactions to it has saved me from making things worse on multiple occasions. And what is most interesting to me is that this pause simply comes. It’s not something I initiate. I’m not doing it. It’s just there.

If not getting myself in trouble by saying something stupid and regretful when my wife talks to me with her night-guard in were all that meditation gave to me, it would be enough. Meditation has become one of the most important things that I do every day and, as I said, I look forward to it each morning. I can honestly say that there is no other single practice that has had a greater impact on my mental, emotional, and spiritual well-being than meditation. But I know I have only scratched the surface on the depths of this practice and I look forward to going deeper. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Guidelines for a morning prayer practice

I tend to overcomplicate and overthink things, and this often results in my being overwhelmed and overextended. If I don’t have a routine and a structure to my day, I can be all over the place and the time will get away from me without my ever having actually accomplished anything. It’s not that I just sit around doing nothing, but that I lack focus, or rather that I get overly focused on the wrong things or too many things and gain no headway on anything. 

I’ve never been diagnosed, but it’s quite possible that I have some level of ADHD. When I was a kid, ADHD diagnoses were much more rare and, not being physically hyperactive, I suppose I didn’t cause enough trouble to warrant attention. It wasn’t until I was in my early 40’s that it occurred to me that ADHD doesn’t necessarily mean a person has to be physically hyperactive, but it can also mean that they are mentally hyperactive with no outward signs of hyperactivity at all. 

Following this train of thought, I reflected back on my life and my complete inability to pay attention to things that didn’t interest me, coupled with an absolutely laser focused obsessive attention on things that did. In school, I either got A’s or I got C’s and D’s. It all depended upon my level of interest in the subject or the teacher. Eventually, I found things outside of school that interested me more than school and I stopped attending altogether. 

Fast forward many years and this dichotomy of inattentiveness toward things that don’t interest me and obsessiveness toward things that do still rings true. It’s both a blessing and a curse, a double-edged sword if you will. However, by accepting to the best of my ability the truth of who I am and how my mind works, I have learned to harness this aspect of my nature as more of a feature than a bug. 

As an aside, I have a friend who insists that there is no such thing as ADHD. He states that there are two types of people: farming-minded people and hunter-gatherer-minded people. Farming-minded people, he theorizes are those who can sit still, stay in one place for extended periods of time, and pay attention, even when it’s boring. Hunter-gatherer-minded people, on the other hand, are always active, can’t sit still, and tend to be always on the go, unable to stay focused on the mundane, but capable of completely obsessing over that which interests them. 

Either way, not wanting to be a victim of my own mind, I have had to develop certain tools that make it possible for me to focus on what matters and accomplish the things that need to get done. Perhaps the most important tool in my toolbox is routine. Having a set routine, at least to the degree that it is possible without being overly rigid or driving my wife crazy, helps me get more of the important things done without my mind wandering to all of the unimportant things that distract me from my goals. One of my most important routines is my morning prayer hour. 

Almost every morning, I wake up at around 5:30am to do my morning prayers. Some days, I wake up earlier and some days I give myself the grace to wake up later, but it usually averages out to around 5:30am. This time is significant because it’s an hour before my daughter wakes up to get ready for school and I need that full amount of time to give the time to my prayers that feels best for me. 

One challenge with whatever condition I have, whether it be ADHD or hunter-gatherer mind, is that I can even overcomplicate prayer. For this reason, I have created a set of guidelines for myself that keep me on track. I don’t always adhere to these guidelines perfectly and if I tried to, I’d probably get burned out, but I use them as guardrails to ensure that I stay the course. 

The guidelines I made for myself are strict, but the order is not strict. In fact, the order is one place where I give myself flexibility so that I can follow the spirit, as it were, and also so that I don’t get bored. Keeping this in mind, here is a list of the things that I require of myself during my morning prayer hour. Again, the order changes from day to day. 

  1. Biblical Reading: I use the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops’ daily Bible readings for mass which I receive in my email inbox every morning. This allows me not to have to think about what to read from day-to-day. The readings are provided for me so I can save that creative thought energy for some other task. 
  2. 20 Minutes of Silent Prayer: I use the Centering Prayer app. I’ve been using this app for quite some time now. It’s free, simple to use, and follows Father Thomas Keating’s guidelines for centering prayer. There are plenty of other prayer and meditation apps out there and I’ve tried several, but this one just seems to suit me for now. 
  3. Spiritual Reading: This is where I really let the spirit guide me. I have a stack of books next to my prayer chair and I am in the middle of several of them at any given time. Did someone say ADHD? Some of these books are old books of spiritual wisdom, some are more modern, and some are books of spiritual quotes or sayings. Some days I read a little bit from a few of them and other days I stick to just one. This freedom keeps me interested which is what makes the practice sustainable for me. 
  4. Spiritual Writing: Every day, I write and publish something for my blog Meditations of a Gentle Warrior. These are short prayer-like poems (Psalms?) which serve multiple purposes for me. On one hand, they help me listen to what I feel like God is saying to me and to channel that creatively. On the other hand, these prayer-poems are an act of sharing. I put them into the world with the hope that some reader somewhere may feel moved by upon reading them and, therefore, by God through them, bringing that person closer to him. Additionally, I feel called to creativity and writing is one way by which I answer that call. 

As I stated above, these are merely guidelines. I follow them to the best of my ability, but I’m not perfect. That said, at night when thinking about the following day, I always take this prayer hour into consideration. My time with God in the morning has become the most important part of my day. With it, I feel closer to him. Without it, as my therapist once said, “It’s amazing how quickly things fall apart.” 

Adhering to this structure may seem burdensome to some, like it robs one of spontaneity and creativity, but I find the opposite to be true. By starting my day off with structure, with a routine, I don’t have to think about what I’m going to do first thing in the morning. I know exactly how the first part of my day is going to go, give or take. By not wasting precious energy and attention on the beginning of my day, I am therefore freed up to direct that energy and attention elsewhere, like on my daughter and my wife. 

It’s important to note that I did not develop this routine overnight. It has been worked out over a long period of time with things added and removed as the spirit directs me, but I have been using this iteration for a while and it seems to be a good fit for me for now. As my wife says to our daughter, “Subject to change.” It’s a practice and the important thing is that it requires practice. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

Grappling with a ghost

In December of 2020, Jerry Seinfeld did an interview on the Tim Ferriss Show where, among other things, he talked about helping his daughter develop a writing habit. One recommendation he made to her was to set a time limit on her writing. “Just do an hour,” he told her, “Nobody writes all day. Shakespeare can’t write all day. It’s torture… You have to have an end-time to your writing session. If you’re going to sit down at a desk with a problem and do nothing else, you’ve got to get a reward for that. And the reward is, the alarm goes off, and you’re done. You get up and walk away and go have some cookies and milk. You’re done.”

As someone who is often plagued with all-or-nothing thinking, this really hit home for me. It’s important, when building a habit, to start small. Ask yourself what amount of time and effort each day is both sustainable and productive. It has to be both if you are going to stick with your practice, and that is really what building a habit is. It’s a practice. Your practice has to be sustainable because otherwise you will quit when it gets too difficult or inconvenient, but it also has to be productive because, if you don’t see noticeable results, or at least progress, you are also likely to quit. 

But the thing that really struck me about what Mr. Seinfeld said was that the reward for writing is to be finished with it. That, for him, the reward is not in the writing process itself. Rather, the reward is that it’s over, that he gets to stop, to get up, and to move on to something else. I can see the truth of this in my own writing practice. Like many writers have said before me, “I don’t like to write. I like having written.”

Writing, especially when it’s personal, is difficult. The best way for me to describe it is that it feels like I am grappling with some hidden, mysterious force inside me. I am simultaneously attempting to submit it while also submitting to it. Much like my jiu-jitsu practice, writing is not something I dreamt of doing or even necessarily desired to do before I started. It’s something I felt and feel compelled to do. It’s like chasing a ghost that is also chasing me. 

Also, like my jiu-jitsu practice, writing is often painful. It’s a struggle. It’s a fickle mistress. Some days, it leaves me feeling accomplished, inspired, and fulfilled, but other days, it leaves me feeling hurt, frustrated, and disappointed. In the long run, however, I am always glad to have done it. I’m glad to have shown up to practice, to have put in the effort, and to have faced myself in the process. And so, for better or worse, day in and day out, I will continue to grapple. 

Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity

To read my poetry and shorter writing, please visit Meditations of a Gentle Warrior and subscribe to receive my daily meditations in your inbox. 

I reserve the right to give myself a break

I reserve the right to give myself a break.

For years, decades if I’m being honest, I never gave myself a break. I took days off and I took vacations, but I never really rested. I just pushed and pushed and pushed until one day it broke me.

I broke from doing too much, from never slowing down, and most importantly, from not knowing how to say “No.” One day, my whole world came to a screeching halt and my body and mind shut down.

I began to have anxiety attacks. I was forced to take a break. I was forced to rest. I was forced to reevaluate my life and my priorities.

A lot of healing has happened since then, but I still have the capacity to overcommit, to overwork, and to put too much unnecessary pressure on myself. But now, when I feel that happening, I reserve the right to slow down, to unburden myself, and to take a break as needed.

My mental, emotional, and spiritual health require that I rest, but it took me pushing myself to the breaking point to realize that.

I am terrified of my creative voice

I am terrified of my creative voice. It frightens me because it sounds a lot like my pain. 

I am hesitant to enter that place inside of me because I am afraid of what I will find, I am afraid of what will come out, and I am afraid that I will not be able to leave once I enter. 

I dance around this fear and I do good work, but it isn’t my work, not in the truest sense because it is impersonal. What is personal is the pain, the grief, the anger, and the shame, but I am afraid to go there. 

I want my art to be uplifting, I want to make a positive impact, and I want to make people happy, but I also need to dig deeper. I need to dive into the pain. I need to unearth the lessons it wants to give me. I need to not be afraid of what I will find because all I will find is the truth. 

I am still searching for my creative voice because it exists on the other side of fear and I have not yet gone there. I have not yet become truly vulnerable, and there is no art without vulnerability. 

Even this is merely writing around the truth, not diving into it headfirst without hesitation. Even this is a form of hiding. This is me avoiding the real work. 

This is not my creative voice. This is something else. 

So much to write about

There is so much I want to write about, but I get stuck. I get stuck, not because I have writer’s block and not because I don’t know what I want to say, but because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid that if I share my experience and my feelings, that I will make others unhappy. 

This isn’t an irrational fear. It’s based on my lived experience. For as long as I can remember, my feelings have been a secondary concern. For as long as I can remember, I have had to withhold, reframe, or filter my feelings in order to protect the feelings of others. For as long as I can remember, my feelings have been held against me. 

Since childhood, my experience, or my interpretation of my experience, has been questioned, ignored, or dismissed outright. My truth has been twisted and manipulated until I begin to question myself. I’ve been made to feel like I’m crazy for having needs, for having a voice, and for wanting to be seen and heard. 

This is not self pity. This is my experience, and this is why I’m stuck. I’m not stuck because I have nothing to write about but because I have so much that I want to say, and I’m afraid to say it. But I have to, not because I want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I simply want to process my hurt in a way that others feel seen and heard, and so that my experience may benefit others.