Hello quiet corner of the Internet,

Tonight while putting Archie to sleep, I found myself crying quietly. It’s July 4th and there was another mass shooting.

I’m scared. I find myself taking deep breaths to center myself. As someone who struggles with generalized anxiety disorder, it’s easy for my body to send itself into survival mode and trigger a panic attack. Am I not strong enough for this? Or is it what my psychiatrist said: that human beings brains were not meant to deal with the speed and intensity of information hitting our brains at the cadence at which it does today.

I feel like I’m being pummeled by waves sometimes. Gasping for that deep, delicious breath of air. Desperate for even footing. Calling for help but my voice drowned out by the noise of the waves. I feel indifferent and terrified all at once. Numb, but also in a state of panic. I fight my natural instincts to withdraw into silence, an instinct to stay hidden and safe.

I feel like becoming a mom has made be both as strong as iron and as fragile as glass. But most importantly, I feel like it’s forced me to really stare at myself in the mirror: to be witness to all my shortcomings.

I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore, but the world feels volatile and unsafe, and I am scared, and searching for some kind of footing to hold onto.

Maybe that’s why we go to Church. Maybe that’s why we pray. It’s reaching out to God as our footing. Closing our eyes and having faith in what’s written. It can be so hard sometimes. But if we don’t have faith in something, what do we do when the world feels like it’s spinning? There’s deep breathes, and grounding techniques, and medication — all of which I partake in and believe in — but I also think faith rounds out the toolkit for those struggling with mental health.

Okay quiet corner of the Internet, thanks for listening. Until next time.

xo Lina