I had long hair when I was little. Bangs in the front, but long hair on the rest of my head. Periodically I’d get it tangled and Mom or Grams would have to get to work trying to get it untangled. Often, they would pull on my scalp and I’d have a bit of a tantrum, but thanks to their patience and dexterity, I’d be camera ready in no time. Mom had long hair at the same time, as did my younger sister Barb. And then in 1976 during that year’s Winter Olympics, Dorothy Hamill became America’s Sweetheart, winning a gold medal in figure skating and driving a desire by girls and women to emulate her with her famous hair cut. At some point, either during the summer of 1976 or 1977–gotta check my parent’s photo albums–I somehow influenced my mom into giving my sister, Barb, and myself a Dorothy Hamill haircut. When Barb and I looked in the mirror at the results, we were traumatized. I apparently broke down in tears and was inconsolable, to the point that my mom started chopping her own beautiful long hair into a Dorothy Hamill cut, showing solidarity with her girls. Two things happened as a direct result of the Dorothy Hamill incident: my mom never had long hair again–and I haven’t had short hair. I was so traumatized that I never let Mom cut my hair again (as if the hair cut fad and my bugging her to give me the same cut was all her fault!!) and I’ve frankly avoided and procrastinated on hair cuts and trims ever since. I guess it shouldn’t be surprising that I’ve never been one to follow the latest hair styles. Also, maybe this is one of those reasons that I seem to have such a hard time making any kind of cut to things close to me?

Anyway, the past couple of years have been hard. I’ve been squeezed between caregiving for my mom as she battled pancreatic cancer back in my Plymouth, Michigan hometown (a 4-5 hour drive each way) and for my husband here in Chicago, as he has dealt with prostrate cancer while struggling to maintain a small, boutique urban agriculture business. My career has been a challenge, with lots of instability and insecurity, as well. It also never helps when so many things seem to act as a barrier, isolating me from the companionship, fun (or at least lightheartedness!) and support of my friends and support networks. This past fall, I found I was back to where I was 13 years before in the fall of 2012 with my own cancer journey. Neither Terry or my mom were in ‘active’ visible treatment, so on the surface everything looked ok. So what if Terry’s business wasn’t rebounding the way we needed it to or Mom’s Stage 4 pancreatic cancer hadn’t actually been eradicated, no one was going in for surgery or rushing to the ER or undergoing chemo or radiation treatments, right? Because it wasn’t visible, everything was ok, correct? I honestly had myself believing that everything was fine and I was just overreacting to the challenges at work and with my life. I mean come on, why should I have reacted to ICE agents targeting my Chicago community’s students and parents or been conflicted while teaching my Civics classes when I was seeing so many of the public, civil, and moral moorings I’d been raised with being yanked out from under me?

Needless to say, I was struggling with it all in the fall to the point that when I went in for my annual mammogram and appointment with my oncological nurse practitioner, Nurse D, in early November and she informed me that while she couldn’t prescribe medicine to help me deal with my struggles, she could write me a script to see an oncological therapist. Her simple recommendation was like a light switch being turned on and gave me this strong feeling of hope. I was reminded of how when I was in a really bad funk 13 years prior, my rock star primary care physician Dr. Jennifer Garrett recommended I see the wonderful therapist Rebecca. Back then, I was no longer in active treatment for my breast cancer, so why wasn’t I just moving on with everything and getting my life back on track? Rebecca turned out to be the guide who helped me work through the hard stuff and get to a better place. Realizing in November that I might be in a similar place with my head space to 13 years previously, suddenly my feelings were validated and instead of triggering more PTSD, I was suddenly triggering these positive feels and memories of resources and support that had helped me manage the hard stuff in the past. Reinforcements and support were coming!!! Like I said, it was like a light switch had been turned on, reminding me that I could get through this round of hard stuff, too.

Anyway, it took two months, but I was finally scheduled for a virtual appointment the first week of January with a great therapist, Ms. S, who has turned out to be a perfect fit for where I’m at on this leg of my life’s journey. While the challenges and issues evolved between November and January, Ms. S has been there to give me support and offer guidance as I have navigated Mom’s hospice care and her passing on March 12th; have been dealing with work issues and stressors; and have been thrown back into active caregiving mode for Terry as he has been undergoing 2 months of radiation treatment for his prostrate cancer. She had the insight in the past month or so to observe that I am a bit ‘entangled’ with everything going on in my life right now: with grief, commitments, priorities, responsibilities, and boundaries. Besides offering kind, yet straight-talking, advice and new resources to try like the How We Feel App, she has also encouraged me to reconnect with what has worked in the past to get me through the hard parts and detangle the messiness. One of those things–that I’ve been too tapped out to do between physical and mental exhaustion and fatigue before now–is to actually write and publish blog posts. However, with this summer break lifting some of my responsibilities and stressors, I’m going to see if I can restart a regular writing practice with this Searching for EMWA blog. Very curious to see where this detangling goes. Hope you will join me.