When You Need a Miracle

Mar 06, 2022

It Starts

Before my coach found me, I thought my life had gone terribly wrong. I wanted my husband to be like he was before his service in the Gulf War. I tried to find doctors to fix him. Psychologist and MDs were puzzled. No answers, just recommendations for more tests.

But Joe was done with examinations and poking and prodding and tubes everywhere. What was happening to my husband was tragic. I wasn't trained to handle PTSD or schizophrenia, GI bleeds, severe anemia, fibromyalgia, or debilitating anxiety.

He'd been a wonderful husband and father. Our boys were incredible, and we had loved our life. Our kids didn't deserve this. I thought I couldn't go on.

I was so unhappy. When I tried to look at the bright side, I felt guilty. When I counted my blessings and still felt defeated, I felt ashamed. And when I prayed, meditated, and repeated affirmations, I usually ended up crying or screaming in anger and frustration that it still hurt so much.

I had no "right" to be so unhappy. Joe had survived his military service in the Gulf, and for the moment, he was safe. Our boys were healthy. We had a home and plenty to eat.

I thought perhaps I wasn't grateful or resourceful enough.

I complained to everyone, then felt ridiculous when I compared my life to my patients at work and decided they were suffering way more than I was.



I tried to be "positive" and pushed it all down. I wrote in my journal, meditated, prayed, practiced yoga, and ate everything in site when those didn't help.

When we bury our emotions alive, they refuse to die. Shoving them aside and pretending they aren't there only fuels their strength and escalates their influence. My buffer was the dopamine hit I got from simple carbs.

I traveled a very dark and lonely path. I felt lost, isolated, and deficient. I gained weight, felt miserable, developed arthritis, and hated myself. I cried, complained, guilt-tripped Joe and our boys, and lost hope.

I made a selfish choice to end my pain, thinking my family would be better off without me.

Our son rescued me, my doctor prescribed a happy pill, and I got counseling. It helped . . . until it didn't. My medication evened out my mood, made me feel optimistic and even cheerful most of the time. But it didn't address the problem.

The problem wasn't Joe or his illness. It wasn't that I was worthless. It was entirely my thinking. But I couldn't see it. I still blamed my circumstances for my pain.


Next Steps

A miracle called social media, which I thought was a waste of time at first, led me to my coach. She helped me find my way by showing me the truth about myself and the lies that kept me in a fog.

She asked me to notice my thinking and to try on different ideas, beliefs, and thoughts.

It was uncomfortable at first. Embarassing moments interspersed with healing  enlightenment spurred me on in my quest for growth. When I realized I could choose my thoughts, question any belief, and entertain ideas that helped, I was beyond intrigued; I was hooked.

Things I thought were simple facts were actually beliefs I could ditch, and I began a new life.

I decided to re-write my story. Our life hadn't gone terribly wrong; it was just different than we had expected it would be like.

Joe is as wonderful and loving as he was before his service; I didn't need him to go back to his previous self. His new self was infinitely precious and adorable, although frequently exasperating and challenging to understand.

We didn't need more medical answers, and our life wasn't tragic. It's LIFE with ups and downs, hard times and easy moments, joy and laughter, fear and pain. It's going exactly as it's supposed to.

Our boys absolutely deserved a dad who never gave up or gave in to addictions but kept working at overcoming them. They deserved to know they were loved enough for both of their parents to get up every day and care for them and make mistakes and say, "I'm sorry," and try to do better.

They are strong, capable, compassionate adults doing great things in the world. They honor and encourage their parents and have beautiful healthy relationships with their friends, women, and children.

I overcame my buffering and learned to eat when I was hungry and not for dopamine hits. I started a business and work to help other caregivers get through their dark days, weeks, and months.


Coaching Miracles

 That's why I'll never stop talking about the power of coaching. It's like a spa get-away for your mental and emotional health.

It's a ticket to a new paradigm – the one where guilt, shame, and self-criticism are random annoying moments that flutter away instead of constant, nagging staples in your daily diet of self-bullying.

I invite you to give coaching a try. You are the miracle in your loved one's life, and you deserve a miracle in your life.

In my opinion, it's the best self-care you can provide.

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