I know that bone-deep exhaustion. That feeling where you know what you need to do, like clean up, but you have zero energy, and the task feels impossibly big. Then the shame and embarrassment pile on, so you're too embarrassed to ask for help. It's a painful cycle. As a fellow "Neurospicy Sister," I live with this executive dysfunction and fatigue. I created this space to help you break that cycle, judgment-free, and find a shame-free starting point.

When my daughter was 11, she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It completely knocked the wind out of me. No one in my family had diabetes, and I had no idea how to manage it. On top of that, she’s also on the autism spectrum and has ADHD. The learning curve was steep, and I often felt like my entire life revolved around her care. I loved her deeply, but I struggled to find me in the process. Over time, I had to learn how to provide love and stability for her while also honoring my own well-being. It meant choosing a different path—one that others didn’t always understand. It’s been lonely at times, but it’s also made me stronger and more compassionate. I want to be here for other parents who feel the weight of it all—to remind you that you’re not alone, and it’s possible to support your child while still taking care of yourself.

Resilience, the ability to adapt and bounce back from adversity, is an essential skill in the modern world. Some people appear naturally resilient. If that's not you, the good news is you can cultivate resilience through conscious effort and intentional practices. Building resilience enables you to navigate setbacks, grow from challenges, and maintain a sense of purpose in the face of uncertainty. Growing resilience requires self-awareness, self-regulation, optimism, self-compassion and a growth mind-set to name a few. I have gone through the twists and turns that life presents: family disintegration, child-estrangement, physical challenges , job and career loss. Though it was rocky, I survived and ultimately thrived. Certain practices strengthen your ability to cope with stress and to recover from setbacks. They foster growth and adaptation. Let’s navigate your current setback(s) together. Let me be your co-pilot in discovering skills you don't yet know you have.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

I am a 70 year old grandmother of two wonderful teen granddaughters. I grew up as the oldest of five with an abusive alcoholic mother. She continued her narcissistic, alcoholic behavior into my 25 year marriage to my late abusive ex-husband. Both relationships took a toll, but after the divorce I was drugged, raped & beaten leaving me with chronic physical pain. Because of this, I am unable to work jobs requiring lifting or standing for long periods, which in turn has caused major financial issues. Living only on social security is stressful, but I am thinking positive. My love for my family, friends & pets helps. My journey continues as I search for work, hopefully helping other people. I was a caregiver for over 30 years, some retail and if course taking care of grandchildren . But, they are fairly independent now and I need to find a job. I worked in a crisis center too helping other survivors, helped lobby politically for funding, answered crisis phones too. Loved that!

For the ones carrying it all but barely holding on. When your days are packed from start to finish, a 3pm Starbucks run still doesn’t cut it, and four hours of sleep feels like your new normal—it’s time to find the culprit. Do you need some YOU time? If you are a parent who's feeling stretched too thin and stuck on autopilot, let’s talk. Maybe you just need to vent about the pressure, hear that your exhaustion isn’t your fault, or finally talk through the weight you’ve been carrying. Maybe you want practical ways to hit reset, carve out time for yourself, or set boundaries that protect your energy without guilt. However you show up, this space is about you—your needs, your voice, and your chance to stop running on empty.

I used to think burnout meant being tired. Like maybe I just needed a nap, a weekend off, or a better planner. But burnout isn’t just exhaustion, it’s a kind of soul-weariness. It’s waking up and feeling like your tank is on Empty, even after a full night’s sleep. It’s dreading your to-do list, feeling numb to things you used to care about, and quietly wondering if something is wrong with you because you just can’t anymore. For me, burnout came after years of trying to be the reliable one. The hard worker. The person who didn’t complain, who pushed through. I ignored the signs: the brain fog, the irritability, the constant fatigue, the Sunday dread. I thought rest was something you earned, not something you deserved just for being human. Eventually, my body and my spirit forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I realized how much I had been running on fear—fear of being replaceable, of not doing enough, of letting people down. Burnout made me rethink everything: how I work, who I do it for, and what I need to feel okay. If you’re feeling depleted, disconnected, or just done—you’re not weak. You’re not failing. You’re probably burnt out. And you deserve space to talk about it.

I’ve spent way too many nights trying to fall asleep with a brain that insists on replaying that one awkward moment from three years ago or analyzing every possible outcome of a decision I haven’t even made yet. Sound familiar? Overthinking can look like productivity on the outside like you’re being thorough or responsible. But on the inside? It’s often anxiety wearing a clever disguise. It’s fear of failure, fear of regret, fear of what people will think. And it can leave you stuck in loops: what if I mess up? What if I’m too much? What if I’m not enough? I used to think I just needed to “think my way out” of feeling overwhelmed. But that strategy kept me spinning. What actually helped was learning how to name what I was feeling underneath all the thoughts, to pause the mental ping-pong match, and to stop treating myself like a problem to be solved. If your mind is constantly racing, if you’re tired of second-guessing yourself into paralysis, or if you just want someone to help you sort through the noise—I'm your girl.

I used to say "yes" when I really wanted to say "no " just to keep the peace. But all it did was leave me exhausted and resentful. I realized later on that people weren’t trying to hurt me, they just didn’t know where my limits were, because I didn’t speak up. That’s when I learned that boundaries aren’t about pushing people away, they’re about protecting yourself. When you set clear boundaries, without guilt or apology, you show others how to treat you with the same respect you give yourself. Soo...let’s talk about how to do that in a way that actually works. Everyone has their own boundaries, its just time that we gain clarity on what they are, why they are important, and what they mean to us.

For many years, I thought something was wrong with me. Turns out I was on autopilot just existing and taking care of everyone but myself. Until I woke up and realized it was working for me anymore. I'm a woman who’s been broken and rebuilt more times than I can count. From surviving toxic love, living in survival mode, and rebuilding from rock bottom—my journey has taught me that healing isn’t linear, but it is possible. I created something amazing that turn my pain into purpose and help others glow through what they go through. Faith, grit, and grace have shaped everything I am and actively becoming.

In 2019, my dad suffered a heart attack (needed a quintuple heart bypass surgery) and the doctors found an Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm. I moved back in with my parents 10 hours away for 5 months to be a caregiver. The stress of his recovery, limitations, adjusting to new life and diet, and the unknown of whether the aneurysm would rupture was overwhelming and exhausting. We lived in fear for 3 months of whether or not he would be recovered and strong enough to have the surgery to fix the aneurysm. Every day we faced the challenges of if we would get another day. The doctors informed us that if the aneurysm ruptured, he would die within minutes. I slept on the couch for 5 months watching him recover and wait. The emotions that he felt and I felt were something that cannot be explained unless you have been there. Every day was a gift and a challenge. A 5 bypass surgery is very difficult to recover from. We had to learn to slow down, be vulnerable, push ourselves, and live a whole new life. We spent everyday learning new exercises that were exhausting and sometimes arguing to just try. I wanted him to do everything to get better, but he was tired. I was tired, too. All time stopped during those days. The only thing that was real was living in that living room next to him and just praying for another day. Our only outlets were doctors visits, tests, cardio rehab. Watching my dad unable be strong and unable to take care of himself was devastating and depressing. I hurt for him. I hurt for me. Every test was stressful. Every day we waited. The whole world stopped those 5 months. But we got through it. And he made it to the surgery. He recovered and he is well. I moved back to my house. I had no idea what a caregiver went through until I became one. The challenges of taking care of someone and living with them, giving up all of yourself and not knowing if they will make it another day is stressful on everyone, but the most important thing I could do for him and me.

There was a time when my body and mind felt like strangers to me. Living with chronic health conditions stripped me of my mental health so deeply I began to question whether I wanted to continue at all. I was far from home, an immigrant in the U.S., dealing with divorce, financial instability, and a total lack of support. Healing isn't one big moment, but several small, sacred ones: daily meditation practice rooted in Buddhism, quiet journaling sessions, tons of art, and a slow, beautiful reawakening of my inner child. Over time, I realized I didn't need to fight my reality—I needed to learn from it. Now, I help other AFAB queer folks who are curious about spirituality but feel overwhelmed by their pain or mental health. I know what it's like to feel invisible in systems not built for you. And I'm here to help you keep your peace and strength even if you're going through the middle of the storm. Let's get you grounded.

For a long time, I moved through life on autopilot – disconnected, going through the motions, unsure of what I was really feeling and being eager to push everything down with distractions. I used escapism as a way to ignore my big feelings, never sitting still enough to let them enter my waking thoughts. But these feelings never go away when you ignore them. They are always there just under the surface, waiting to come up at the worst possible moment in the worst possible way. Mine always erupted in anger and I lashed out at people closest to me. The noise in my head never quieted down until I took my first hike. In those 4hrs, I felt a peace that I had never felt before. My mind, body & spirit was renewed and I felt like a brand new person. Hiking quickly became my therapy as I did the work of coming back to myself and recognizing when I needed breaks instead of staying in GO-mode all the time. Along the way, I became someone that others turned to during their own periods of distress.

I can be there for you if you’re battling racing thoughts, panic attacks, or the overwhelming weight of anxiety. I have skills in CBT, ACT, and DBT plus have the challenge of Dissociative Disorder and have both panic attacks and anxiety attacks. I'm here. You don't have to suffer in silence.

I know what it’s like to wake up feeling heavy, stuck, or unsure how you’re going to make it through the day. Living with depression can feel isolating, like no one truly understands what’s going on inside. I’ve been diagnosed with both Bipolar I and Seasonal Affective Disorder, which means I cycle through periods of deep depression and overwhelming lows throughout the year. I’ve had to learn, sometimes the hard way, how to manage these shifts, find small sparks of light in dark seasons, and remind myself that I’m not defined by my diagnosis. If you’re struggling, I want you to know you don’t have to go through it alone. I can sit with you in the heaviness, share what has helped me through my own cycles, and offer a space where you don’t have to hide how hard it feels. Together, we can find ways to create even the smallest sense of relief, stability, and hope—one step at a time.

There are times when life feels like too much—when everything piles up and you don’t know what the next step should be. I’ve been in those moments myself, when stress, responsibility, or emotions made me feel frozen. What helped me most was having someone who would just listen without judgment, someone who could sit with me while I sorted out my thoughts. That’s what I want to offer here. I may not have all the answers, but I can hold space for you, help you feel less alone, and support you as you find your way back to calm and clarity.

Worry can be exhausting—like a voice that won’t quiet down no matter how much you try to distract yourself. I know how it feels to replay situations in your head, imagining the worst or doubting yourself over and over. I’ve been there too, and what helped me was having someone who could listen and remind me I wasn’t trapped in those thoughts. When we talk, I’ll give you space to share what’s on your mind, help you slow down, and see things a little more clearly. Together, we can make that loud worry feel a little quieter.

There is stress, and then there is "overwhelming, I do not recognize myself, everything irritates me" stress. There came a time when I was going to therapy and learning all of the coping skills, and for some reason, I could not implement them. I finally realized that I was not safe with me and that progress was better than perfection. It took time and apologies to my loved ones and myself for me to realize that I get to choose what works for me in my times of stress, depression, and anxiety. I have enjoyed a variety of things from tapping, reiki, mindfulness, life coaching, a what works list, implementing boundaries, a nervous system reset, and much more. I would love to support you in finding out what works for you when you are triggered, tired, stressed, or feel like giving up. Together we can explore what works for YOU.

The pivotal point in my healing journey was when I was hospitalized with suicidal ideation at age 33, and hospitalized again after a suicide attempt at age 35. Along with clinical depression, I struggled with panic attacks and anxiety from complex PTSD as well as ongoing abuse from my toxic family system. I thought I wouldn't live past age 45 until I found support from trauma-focused talk therapy and peers at age 40. Peers understood and believed me about the abuse I survived and were living proof that a different life was possible. This was vital to my healing journey and inspired me to become a Peer Support Specialist. I have spent years in trauma-focused talk therapy, consistently talking with peers, learning coping skills and practicing good self-care. I am now in my 50s. I am happy, and my lifestyle supports good mental and physical health and I have separated myself from the abusive people of my past and have healthy relationships with friends and chosen family.

I am someone who has lived with anxiety for as long as I can remember. In the past, my panic attacks were so overwhelming that I would find myself hyperventilating, feeling trapped in a cycle of fear. These moments used to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do, but over time, I’ve learned how to sit with my anxiety instead of fighting against it. I no longer see it as an enemy I have to push away, but as a part of myself I must work alongside. Problems thrive in the dark, and I believe that when you have someone to confide in, you feel lighter. Now, I want to share what I know about anxiety with others. If you are living with chronic stress or anxiety, you don’t have to go through it alone. Together, we can explore tools and strategies that make life feel more manageable, whether that means building healthier coping mechanisms or simply having a safe place to let it all out. Sometimes what we need most is someone to listen without judgment, to hold space for our struggles so that