I’ve spent the bulk of the last two months resting. Or trying to rest. Or, maybe better put, being taken on a wild ride as I explore what has caused a year’s worth of insomnia.

Desperation set it. Fear. I dreaded nighttime. I never knew what was going to come. Nothing I did ever consistently helped. I was often in tears of desperation, afraid of sleep, afraid of the next day.

I’m in your head. I know you think you can’t trust your body and yourself.

I know that you, too, have grown up in a culture that has taught you to downplay and disregard your deep needs. If you are a mother, you can add the complicating fact that your children have legitimate needs that often interfere with your own. I know how tempting it is to be low-maintenance, low-needs, last in line. Having worked with hundreds of women, I can tell you that it doesn’t work. You’ll never be able to truly get better, feel safe or create the life you desire by being last in line.

This year’s Mother’s Day was epic. Somewhat terrifyingly so. I thought it was going to be a regular Mother's Day hike. A few miles. A few lizards. Lunch by the Rio Grande. But on the way back, quite a ways in the lead of the rest of the family, I walked right up to a rattlesnake, head raised, rattles a'rattling, ready to strike. I was just several feet away. With a baby on my back