To The Edge and Back

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After 12 hours of labour that finally concluded in an emergency C-section, the doctor laid my baby boy into my arms and my entire world smashed down with alarming force.  As I looked down at his flawless skin, my eyes welled up and nothing would ever be the same.

For the five days following my sons birth, I cried.  I cried because I was tired.  I cried because I had just completed the most difficult task of my life, which was giving birth.

And I cried because I realized how fucked up my childhood really was.

As I held my baby, my childhood played out like a movie.  The flashbacks of an angry mother washed over me like waves.

My childhood scenes of being thrown down hallways, and being hit and kicked by my mother, jarred my brain.

Memories of being smacked until I see stars swamped my mind.

The abuses I endured during my childhood, that had laid dorment and I had managed to push down for so long, now bubbled to the surface at paralyzing speed.

I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t see straight.  Over the next five days as a new mother, I swaddled my baby, kissed his cheeks and whispered a promise into his ear, “I will never hurt you.”

The six months that followed my baby’s birth was a living hell.

I knew I wasn’t ok.  My childhood hung on me like an old, tattered robe.  I knew it was there, but without the knowledge on how to deal with this pain, I just forged forward.  Trying to forget it existed.  Willing it to change.

But slowly, my life started to fray.

Soon, I became riddled with Post Partum Depression so deeply, that I was barely recognizable. The fears I carried of, even accidentally, hurting my precious child created a space for me to close off.  I raised him up with kit gloves, so incredibly cautious never to hurt him.  I was terrified that I would abuse him so I pushed him away.  And my husband away.  All in an effort to push this fear away.

(Don’t get me wrong, I fed him, I nursed him, I rocked him.  I did everything I needed to do.  But I did it all behind a veil of self preservation.  All behind a cloud of fear that abuse would sneak out of me.  So I remained diligent to never get angry or frustrated or tiresome with him)

I had nightmares of someone hurting my baby.  Every whimper or cry, I was on high alert.  I started to hallucinate.

I was terrified and felt dreadfully alone.  And embarrassed and ashamed.  Why couldn’t I do this?  What the hell was wrong with me?

Yet, I kept my promise to my baby… “I will never hurt you”

I went to my doctor, who prescribed me with anti-depressants and I created appointments with a psychiatrist.

I attended sessions faithfully, showing up completely, willing to try anything to keep my promise to my baby boy.  After a year of sessions and meds, I stopped going.  The sessions started to make me angry and I didn’t feel any better at the end of each one.

Sure, the doctor was very nice, yet no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t wrap my head around the concepts of anger management or forgiveness.  For whatever reason, the concepts did not reasonate with my soul.

I know it sounds strange, but I just didn’t “get” it.  No matter how many homework assignments I worked through, I still couldn’t find my way.

That being said, I knew I was better than the year before.  So I quit the sessions.  Moved forward with my life.  I felt that although I hadn’t shed the tattered robe of my childhood completely, I understand the presence of it and had made peace with its presence in the very least.


Medication can be tricky.  Slowly as the years ticked on, my immunity for the drug grew and as a result, so did my dose requirements.  After years of doctors appointments and med changes, I was finally settled in on 300mg of Effexor a day.

And then due to severe night terrors, I was also swallowing 150mg of Trazadone a night to sleep.  I used to joke with the pharmacist that it was my personal tranquilizer.  Within 5 minutes of taking it, I was asleep.  Knocked out cold.  But it was a small price to may to keep the night terrors at bay.

By now, our family had welcomed a second baby into our lives.  Another brown eyed baby boy who was so gorgeous and bright and he just never stopped smiling.

By the grace of god, I had managed to keep my promise to my oldest son “I will never hurt you”  AND, now I had another son to keep the promise for too.

Slowly, the meds stopped working.  I say they stopped working, but the truth is I just started feeling again.  All the childhood stuff started bubbling again, and because I didn’t know how to process that it created severe anxiety.  I was nearly always panicked and shaky and just plain off balance.

Finally, one day, as I sat in my garage smoking a cigarette, I thought to myself, “I wonder if those rafters would hold my body weight. I wonder if I could call it.  It’s been a hell of a run.  I could call it.”

Yet, as I tossed the idea around in my head, my promise to my sons reared up as a reminder.  I couldn’t do that to my babies.  I couldn’t make that their story of their mom.  I had to stay.  I had to keep fighting.  I had to find my way out of this.

So I went back to my doctor.  As he reviewed my chart, I sat with my hands clasped, waiting patiently for the little white paper slip with illegible scribbles on it.  My paper of safety.  That little prescription note with a higher volume of meds was going to be my ticket to freedom.

Yet, I was wrong.  That day as the doctor closed my file, my entire life would change again.  And it would never be the same.

As long as I live I will never forget the heated rush of nausea that surged through my body as my doctor said these words to me, “Lana, I cannot give you more meds.  You are on the highest dose of Effexor we can give you right now.  Unless you agree to a psychiatric evaluation.”

My breathe was cut again, big fat tears fell down my cheeks as I tried to grasp what he had said to me.

“I honor your decision here, Lana.  But I have procedures I need to follow.  So in order to increase your medication an evaluation needs to be performed,” he said, yet it was delivered with an intense kindness which only made my tears gush faster.


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A timeline was created that day, as it was a Friday, that I would call on Monday with a decision on how I wanted to move forward.  As I made my way out of the office and into my truck that afternoon, a million emotions clouded my mind.

I was angry at mother for doing this to me.

I was angry at myself for not trying harder to be ok.

I was angry at the medical system for their stupid fucking rules.

But more importantly, I was sad for all of us. My mom, myself, my kids and my husband.

Divine Intervention

That weekend by the grace of God himself, I was slated to go to a tradeshow for a home based business I was a part of.  This tradeshow was a Body Soul And Spirit Expo.

I had worked for months for preparation for this show.  Although the show concept seemed quirky, I stealthily maneuvered my business offerings to surround the shows concepts of self love and acceptance.

This show would ultimately change my life.

The public attendance for the show was lower than what one would deem as a successful trip.  Because low attendance generally means lower sales, under any other circumstance, I would be upset with a show of this size.

However, due to the decision I needed to make on Monday, I didn’t have a lot in my tank and was incredibly distracted.  So the slowness of the show was actually a gift to me.

It offered me the time to go and explore the other vendors.  It was during this time that I would meet my first Intuitive Coach.

After about 15 minutes of chatting with her, I had spilled my story about my night terrors.  Because I never shared any of my struggles with anyone, I immediately regretting it and  I outwardly cringed as I braced for judgement.

Yet no judgement came, only a story about past lives and reincarnation.  Which admittedly confused me, however deep inside my soul, I recognized what she was saying.  I could feel it  – I could “get it”

She said as an Intuitive Coach she could help me.  She could allow me to work through all the things that were clouding me.  Hesitant I told her, “I would think about it.”

Upon my return from the show, my husband and I decided to forgo the Evaluation and instead roll the dice on this Intuitive Coach.  While her methods seemed unorthodox and her rates seemed staggering to me at the time, my husband and I both agreed, I wasn’t getting better with current methods so we had nothing to lose here.

The Road Back

For the next year, I would work with my coach every single month.  I wouldn’t miss a session.  She taught me about energy and the laws of attraction and past lives and cellular trauma and manifestation and many other things.

My first session will always be something I hold very near to my heart.  She completed a round of counselling with me. A session that during the entire time, I was literally thinking, “What the hell am I doing – this is crazy”

But then something incredible happened.

Following the session that afternoon,  I picked up my boys from school and day care and they asked to go to the park. Regularly I would say no to such a request, because I was so exhausted from trying to get through the day.  But this day, I agreed.

As my oldest son ran ahead down the walking path, I pushed my youngest in his stroller. And I began to look around and that’s when I noticed — everything!

For the first time in my life, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  I could hear the birds in the trees and the sound of the water rushing through the stream.  The wind in the trees was incredibly beautiful.  It was as though I was seeing this all for the first time.

In that very moment, I recall thinking to myself, “Wow! Does everyone see this? Does everyone experience this?  No wonder why people want to live.  This is incredible!”

From that day forward, it was easy for me to continue to work with the methods and concepts she shared.  Not only did I feel better, but they MADE SENSE to me.

Life as an Intuitive Coach

As my time with my coach increased, so did my own personal Intuitive Abilities.  In fact, they became so prevalent in my life, that in October 2012 I opened my very own Intuitive Business.

I have been med free for nearly three years. Not without a lot of work and determination.  The withdrawl of the drug alone was a difficult battle, but as a result I celebrate everyday for the Divine Intervention I received in 2010.

I opened my business for so many reasons, but the main reason is best summed up by my saying this to you:

I get it.  I understand the hurt.  I feel your pain.  I know you hurt so damn bad.  And you don’t want to hurt anymore.  Yet, you have no idea what to do or where to turn or how to fix it. 

I know you are tired and exhausted and can’t understand why everyone can’t just leave you sleep.  It’s not sleep you need, my sweetheart, its freedom.

Freedom of your traumas and pain.  Freedom from your hurt. Freedom from the programs that are running in your brain. Freedom to be you and love you and appreciate you for YOU!

That’s why I do my job.  For anyone who is hurting.  I know how it feels.  I’ve been to the edge and back again.  I promise you, life is meant to be beautiful and incredible and you are meant to have everything you want. 

So I ask you to consider working with me —  an Intuitive Life Coach.  You can book a session with me OR You can find someone else who resonates with you.  Just honor you.  However that looks. 

You are so beautiful and bright and I promise you , your life is as well.  Please allow yourself the gift of reaching out and trying something different.  Because sometimes even if it’s different, we have nothing to lose.

Thank you for sharing in my journey!

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Spending The Holidays Without Someone You Love

I am reposting this just in time for Christmas! 

The holidays are a time to spend with those you love. With Christmas fast approaching the holidays can be bittersweet for me.

I am incredibly blessed. I have two parents that consists of a father and a step mom. And a set of in laws. A beautiful sister. Plus sister in laws and brother in laws and step sisters and step brothers. Plus a husband and my own kids. And tons of aunts, uncles and cousins. It’s a full family. But a gorgeous one.

Well, I’m not gonna lie, with this size comes some level of crazy. I joke many times and say “We put the Fun in dysfunctional!” But I know I’m blessed to have so many souls who surround me. Especially during the holidays.

Five years ago I lost my mom. My real mom. The mom who gave birth to me.

But I didn’t lose her in death. I lost her emotionally.

Five years ago I had to let my mom go. I had to release her from my life. I had to halt a relationship with her.

The truth is this relationship was never healthy. My mom was an abusive parent. Throughout my childhood she physically assaulted us and emotionally manipulated us and everyone around her.

I know she is unhealthy and needs help. And for many years of my adult life, regardless of my personal health, I set out to save her. To get her to a state of ok. To help her heal.

But as the saying goes, “You can lead a horse to water…”

After many years of personal investment into her well being I had to make a decision.

This decision came down to two parts:

1) Either accept her life that she was creating and stand beside her as she self destructed and blamed everyone except herself.


2) Release her from my world.

I chose to release her.

In truth, the level of her emotional unsettle was affecting me more than anyone knows. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat. I sent money. I bought food. I created doctors and council appointments. I delivered her to said appointments.

Hell, I even let her move in with us after she struggled to get on her feet after a suicide attempt.

But despite all my doing, I was losing. Losing myself. Losing my marriage and losing my kids.

I was so damn set on giving her everything that she wanted that I was losing everything I wanted.

Meanwhile, she was fighting it every step of the way. Wanting more money. More time. More resources. Without ever taking personal accountability for self betterment.

One day, after several weeks of dating someone, she suddenly advised me that I didn’t need to bother helping her anymore because she had him now.

That was the day I got crystal clear on how this worked for her and that NONE of that worked for me. And never would.

I tried boundaries for awhile, but could never maintain them when it came to her. I wanted to. But somehow, whenever, she came around I was the 6 year old child wanting for her mama.

So I decide to release her. I have spent years and years working through the trauma and the pain she has caused, both from a child and then as an adult. And for the most part, I have healed.

Although sometimes the reality of my decision resurfaces.

During Christmas I know there is someone missing from my table. There is one person who regardless how she treated me, shares my DNA and is missing.

I would never change my decision. Not only did I make the decision to protect myself. I also made it to protect my marriage and my children.

No one will ever hurt neither of those things — regardless of their connection to my DNA!

And so each holiday season, I silently grieve. For the parent I have lost. For the parent I have had to release. For the parent who was never a parent at all. For the person who she will never be.

Today, I share love with all my friends who have had to make a similar decision of self preservation. I applaud you and hold you high as you stand in your decision.

I sit with you in your silent grief.

During the holiday season, there are many posts for those who have lost family members in death, but today I recognize all of you who have lost someone emotionally.

The grief is similar, but it also comes laced with a form of guilt that can be a burden.

Just please know, today and through out the holidays, you are not alone. And you are not being judged. Regardless of how or why you have made the decision you have made, know that I appreciate your struggle and am so damn proud of you.

No one can understand the choice we have made, until they need to make it. And my goal is never to validate my decisions to anyone, but instead to help others not feel alone.

So, to YOU, who have lost your parent emotionally, know you are not alone. Together, let’s share our grief.

And let’s share our love.

Thank you for sharing in my journey!


6 Things I Would Tell My 27 Year Old Self

It is said ….
With age comes wisdom
Hind sight is 20/20
Live and Learn

Sometimes I look back on my life and am in awe. In awe that I have lived to tell the story. In awe that I could be this strong.

This is not to be taken in a boastful way either. This is pure and genuine amazement on my part.

I endured a childhood of abuse. The physical abuse was present, but far less favored to the use of emotionally abusive tactics.

Physical abuse would leave evidence — emotional abuse did not.

I left my childhood home midway through my 12th Grade Year. Got a job, moved in with a family who gave me a room and I paid rent to them until I graduated. Upon graduation, I came to the realization that my high school boyfriend was not a good fit. Although abuse was not present, jealousy and possessiveness were equally a toxic pill to swallow.

A year later I would meet my husband. We would later get married, have three kids and I would spend no less than 10 years fighting my abusive childhood demons.

The number of times I considered ending it. The number of hours I spent in traditional counselling. The number of years I spent gulping down anti-depressants. All of these numbers are staggering. But I did it. I. DID. IT.

I think that’s the most amazing part of a personal healing journey is — you do it. No one can do it for you. No one can wish better for you. No one can do more for you. The only person who can change your life is you.

At 27 years old, my life was probably at its worst. I had completed hours of traditional therapy. Had jumped through every hoop they asked me to. Ate the pills. Did it all, but damn it if I didn’t feel any better.

Our oldest son was 4. And he was what kept me on this earth. My husband could find another wife, but I could’ve only imagined what the loss of a mother would do to my son – so I held on.

(Ps — my husband has never agreed with the “I will find another wife statement)

In the most difficult times there are a few things I wish I knew. And although I know the struggle is what brought me to the place I am in today — some of these tidbits would have saved me a lot of tears. A lot of pain.

1). Your mother was wrong — about everything
You will never get an answer as to why she never felt you were worthy of love. You will never know how she could hurt a child each day and seemingly convince herself “I’m doing better than I had — so that’s enough”

But please know you will never turn out like her. Even if you aren’t paying attention. You still won’t accidentally abuse your children. You just won’t.

Also — know you are worthy of love. You’re funny and a huge smart ass. Which, despite what she told you, is actually a great asset to have within this crazy, sometimes upside down, world.

You are a great mother who is patient and kind. Kids have a way of pushing you, but you still will never hurt them. So sit back and beathe.

Oh and someone will love you. He will love more fiercely that you could ever imagine love to be. She was wrong about that too!

2) Ditch the Traditional Counselling. Swear off the religion. Move straight to “Intuitive Counselling”

(This little nugget right here would have saved me 10 years of tears and faking my way through life)

Through a spiritual life coach you will learn how to release the old programs your mom created in your head. Releasing the “you’re stupid” “you’re ugly” “you’re a loser” “no one will ever love you” will make room for you to become the person you want to become.

3). You aren’t actually tired because of lack of sleep. You are tired because you hate your life and don’t know how to change it

You keep telling yourself that you’re tired. But, in truth, you don’t have the slightest clue how to fix your life. Which, admittedly, is quite exhausting. You have done counselling. You have ate the pills

You’ve made life Changes as frequently as possible. Thinking happiness will lie over the next hill. You’ve changed jobs, changed vehicles. Hell you even tried 100% cotton, granny underwear thinking it was the uncomfortable underwear choices.

Discouragingly none of these changes brought happiness. Why??

Because happiness is inside you.

Start loving you. Start taking care of you. Honouring you. Admiring you. Enjoy you. Be the truest version of you. And anyone who doesn’t get it, doesn’t matter!

4). Accept love.

From your husband. From your kids. From your friends. From your family. But most importantly from YOURSELF.

The person (your own mom) who is “supposed to” love you — atleast that’s what society teaches us — couldn’t love you to society standards. And that’s a tough lesson, kiddo.

But this fact does not mean you are unloveable. SHE could not love. This has no relevance in your future relationships unless you chose to carry it forward.

Someone will love you. They will trust you with their heart and their soul. They will love you when you are unlovable.

This is not a trick. This is real love. Accept it. Embrace it. Trust it

Don’t spent 10 years “testing” the love to see if it will hold. Don’t spend years with a wall built so damn tall around you that you have to hit bottom to begin tearing it down.

5). Stop saying “I don’t care”

Because you’re lying. You do care. You care so damn much that it hurts. There’s nothing wrong with caring.

In fact, it still hurts the same when the hurt comes. Just because you’ve braced yourself by shouting “I don’t care” doesn’t make it true.

Honestly, you will probably hurt twice as much when it hits because you will now be filled with hurt AND self resentment.

You will become so pissed off at yourself for somehow letting yourself fall for it and start caring. You will think and rethink about exactly WHEN you started caring. When the truth is, you always cared. You cared right away. You don’t do anything that you don’t care about.

You are trying to trick yourself — to trick your mind — into thinking you didn’t care. But the truth is, your heart always cared. Because that’s how you were built. Embrace it.

Oh and the hurts only hurts for a little while. But the self resentment is much more difficult to dissolve. Stay out of the self resentment trap.

6). Some people will understand you. Some will not. Neither is any of your business

You’re loud. You are big. You will rarely enter a party without the entire room knowing. You will be the person people talk about when you leave.

Some will talk about you because you made them laugh or made them feel more than they have in a long time.

Some will talk about you because you were too much for them.

Neither is any of your business. Your job is to be you.

AND Never ever dim your light to make someone else more comfortable.

Oh yeah, and you will get “shushed” a lot in your life. Don’t listen. Just use it as an opportunity to know you have arrived at the party.
What would you tell yourself???