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WARNING – F bomb ahead

Getting close to finishing the first draft of my book! Giving you a sneak peek of an unedited excerpt.


Breakdown to Breakthrough


I didn’t even see it coming. I was having the best time of my life (or so I thought I was). Hell, it was December in Massachusetts, Christmas Day actually, and we were outside enjoying the unseasonably warm and sunny weather. It was 65 degrees and there we stood in flips flops drinking mimosas. Our neighbors congregated in our driveway for an impromptu holiday gathering. The champagne corks flew and oysters were being shucked. Our two toddler boys whizzed around in their new John Deere tractor that Santa left on the lawn. Everyone took turns cuddling and loving on our new 16 pound Bullmastiff puppy,  named “Champ”. Even my phlox had a perfect single bloom. Since when does phlox bloom in December!? It was fucking idyllic. I had been on vacation that entire week and felt like I was on top of the world.

Two days and 180 degrees later I find myself in a frightfully dark place. I had been hit by a proverbial freight train. Paralyzed by depression, exhausted from anxiety, and frayed by trauma I couldn’t even get out of bed. I hated myself and the mess I had become. I silently screamed to myself,  “Damn it Emily, just get the fuck out of bed! Snap out of it! You hate feeling like this!” All I could think was ‘What the hell has happened to me?! How did I manage to back myself into such a dark corner?’  I pulled up the National Suicide Prevention hotline number on my phone. I get it. I get why people kill themselves. I wanted to die and live all at the same time. I put the phone down. I will live. I choose to live. My boys need me. I need me.

It was so painful that my chest felt so damn heavy and my heart physically ached. I was scared to be alone. My husband had to stay home with me. I could not get out of bed, could not work, nor care for our children. I took a leave of absence from my job and dug deep within my core. I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I felt incredibly lost and isolated. I had done such a damn good job of hiding it; faking it for years all the while numbing and distracting myself from the pain. I faced the truth that I had been constantly running around, “doing it all” and “being it all” to prove that I was enough. I had been trying to convince myself life was great only to have periodic episodes of exhaustion, anger, anxiety, depression, stress, and overwhelming discontent.

It was a few days after the acute breakdown when I had a moment of clarity and realized I had not truly stopped to consciously take a breath since 2009. Well fuck this. This is not working for me anymore. It’s time to STOP, BREATHE, and become AWARE. It’s time that I CHOOSE ME. It’s time for me to heal and to learn how to fall head over heels  in love with myself. I made it my job to seek out as much professional support as possible. I went to therapy, I saw my doctor, I saw a craniosacral therapist, I hired a transformational coach, I saw a nutritionist, I read books, and did as much yoga as I could. I had fallen on my knees, open and ready to receive the support I desired and deserved. I had hit the brick wall. I was having a complete nervous breakdown.
I had to BREAKDOWN in order to BREAKTHROUGH.

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