Large but NOT in Charge.

Several years ago, I was diagnosed with Adult Onset Asthma. Prior to the diagnosis, I was plagued with bouts of bronchitis and nasty upper respiratory infections that never seem to fully go away, leaving me fatigued and miserable. All this was happening while I was working two jobs and raising three children as a single parent.

I was popping steroids like candy to keep my airways open which only made me jittery, an insomniac and hungry as fuck…….all the time. The weight gain was gradual. Mind you, I wasn’t a skinny bitch when this all happened, but I was not morbidly obese either. As the weight increased, so did the aches and pains in my body from the tremendous burden I was carrying. Food was my only comfort. I felt a sense of contentment when I eating my heavy carb loaded meals. Fun fact: I went to culinary school and I can cook some shit UP! Pasta and breads were my go to “make me feel good” foods and I made sure we always had the two items in the pantry.

I hated my life. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. I knew something was wrong, but I could not a put a finger on what exactly was making me so miserable. I mean, of course the asthma issues were a factor, however, the overeating and mood swings (steroid usage but not), was just consuming me. Helpless does even being to describe how I was feeling. Pretending everyday to look like I had my shit together was daunting. I remember sitting in my closet, on the floor, silently crying while my kids played in their rooms oblivious to the fact that their mother was having a mental breakdown in her room. I suffered in silence for several more years before I gained the strengthen to fix myself.

In 2019 I read a book called The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind and Body in the Healing of Trauma. That book was my fricking “aha” moment. I learned about how the body responds to stressors such as childhood trauma and its manifestation later in life. Culturally, the Latin community frowns upon airing the family’s dirty laundry. Women are expected to be subservient and agreeable. Seeking outside assistance was considered taboo and even a sign of weakness. I was ready to spill my guts, but I was scared about what that would mean.

Through my insurance, I was connected with a life coach, nutritionist and therapist. I began therapy and I remember not knowing what to say or where to start. My therapist was a gentle voice over the phone, (COVID was in full effect), that encouraged me to “take my time to tell my story”. It was the best thing I could ever have done for myself.

The title of this blog comes from something my therapist said to me during one of our sessions. “Dianna, you have so much to unpack emotionally. There are things your mind has compartmentalized to help you function. When you unpack all the trauma, you will unburden yourself and begin your road to mental health wellness.” I heard but I did not believe.

Fast forward to August 19, 2022. The day my life changed forever. This blog will bounce between past, present and future and it will serve as a road map to my journey to help the little brown girl unpack. It will be raw. I will be real. I will be my salvation.