Tag: Therapy

  • Book Review: It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover

    I read It Ends With Us in less than three days. I didn’t want to like it, but I did. And that’s the conflict this book leaves you with—how can something so well-written, so compelling, also feel so deeply unsettling?

    Colleen Hoover doesn’t just tell a love story; she unravels one. At first, I wanted to love Ryle. He was charming, ambitious, and passionate. But then I hated him. I wanted to shake Lily, to hug her, to beg her to see what so many women struggle to recognize: that love doesn’t excuse abuse, and that abusers don’t often change.

    This book wrecked me. I haven’t personally experienced domestic violence, but I know women like Lily. I have watched some leave, and I have watched some stay. And that’s what I may never be able to fully understand—the staying. Hoover doesn’t romanticize Ryle’s actions, but the novel does what real life often does: it makes you question, makes you hope, makes you ache for the person who isn’t what you thought they were.

    While It Ends With Us is undeniably powerful, it also toes a line that made me uncomfortable. Is it fair to frame a story of domestic violence within a romance? Does it risk softening the reality of abuse? I don’t know. What I do know is that this book makes you feel everything—love, anger, frustration, devastation—and maybe that’s the point. Hoover gives us a protagonist who has to make an impossible choice, and through her, we are forced to confront the complexities of love, trauma, and survival.

    Would I recommend It Ends With Us? Yes, but with caution. It’s not an easy read, nor should it be. But it’s an important one.

  • Drowning in Denial: Loving Someone Who Won’t Save Themselves

    It’s a strange kind of grief—watching someone you love slowly destroy themselves, knowing that no matter how much you plead, beg, or cry, they won’t change. Not because they can’t, but because they won’t. Because the bottle is easier. Because the pain is numbed just enough to make tomorrow seem bearable, even if it means drowning today.

    You tell yourself it’s a disease. You remind yourself of that every time they make promises they won’t keep. Every time they slur their words through another excuse. Every time they look you in the eyes and swear they’ll do better, but the next weekend, they’re right back where they started. You know addiction is powerful, but what you don’t understand—what keeps you up at night—is why they don’t seem to want to fight it. Why they won’t even try.

    And maybe the worst part is that they think they’re fooling you. They act like they have it under control, like their drinking isn’t a problem as long as they still go to work, pay their bills, and function just enough to pretend everything is fine. But you see the cracks. The way their hands shake in the morning. The way their personality shifts, sharp and defensive, when you bring it up. The way they push you away, either because they don’t want to hear the truth or because deep down, they know they’re failing you, and it’s easier to resent you than to face themselves.

    You remember the person they used to be. The one who laughed with you, who had dreams and plans, who cared. And you wonder if that person is still in there somewhere, buried beneath the layers of liquor and denial. You wonder if they ever think about getting better, if they ever wake up and realize what they’re losing. What they’ve already lost.

    But the hardest part—the part that breaks you over and over—is knowing that no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want to save them, you can’t. Because they don’t want to be saved. And until they do, you’re just standing on the shore, watching them drift farther and farther away, screaming into the wind, knowing they can hear you but choosing not to listen.

  • The Mirror of Grief

    The aim is not to untangle the past,
    to pull each thread and weave a new story,
    not to mend the frayed edges of memory
    with needles of reason or spools of time.
    No, the past is not clay,
    and we are not potters shaping its hardened form.

    It is the weight we carry,
    pressed into the soft earth of our becoming,
    an indelible signature of what was.
    We do not correct the rain for falling,
    nor the storm for its fury.

    Instead, therapy is the mirror held close,
    its surface dark and reflective,
    daring us to meet the gaze of our own ghosts,
    to sit in the company of sorrow
    and call each shadow by its name.

    Here, grief blooms like a strange flower,
    its petals heavy with the dew of acknowledgment.
    We do not prune it; we let it grow,
    wild and tangled in the garden of our truths,
    until the roots touch what has been buried.

    This is not the work of undoing,
    but the slow art of reckoning—
    to confront the echoes
    and let them linger,
    to touch the edges of pain
    and know it as ours.

    Only then, with the past unearthed but unaltered,
    do we breathe in the ache,
    let it fill our lungs like smoke
    until it fades into air,
    leaving us not lighter,
    but freer.

    -DJT

  • Understanding Triangulation: What It Is, How It Impacts Us, and How to Cope

    We’ve all been there—caught up in a situation where we’re feeling stuck between two people who aren’t getting along. Maybe it’s a family member, a colleague, or a friend. Someone might be telling you one side of a story, and then you hear the other person’s side, leaving you in the middle, uncertain of where you stand or what’s really going on. That feeling of being pulled in different directions is what’s called triangulation, and let me tell you, it can cause a lot of harm to relationships and your mental wellbeing.

    So, What Is Triangulation?

    Triangulation happens when one person drags a third person (you, in this case) into a conflict or issue that doesn’t necessarily concern you. This tactic typically happens when someone wants to avoid dealing directly with the person they have a problem with, so they go to someone else for validation, support, or to try to get them to take sides. Instead of directly communicating, the issue is distorted and passed around, like a game of telephone.

    It’s not just a family issue. Triangulation can happen in any setting—whether at work, with friends, or at home. It’s basically an unhealthy communication strategy used to manipulate, control, or get a particular outcome.

    Examples of Triangulation

    Family Perspective: Let’s say you’ve got a family member, we’ll call them Person A, who has an ongoing issue with another family member, Person B. Instead of talking things through directly with Person B, Person A decides to approach you, trying to get you to side with them. They might say things like, “I just don’t get why Person B does this to me. What do you think?”

    Now, you’re stuck in the middle, unsure of what to say. If you agree with Person A, you’re reinforcing their perspective without fully understanding the other side. If you try to take the neutral route, it might come across as picking sides anyway. Either way, the situation becomes more complicated and creates tension between you, Person A, and Person B.

    Workplace Perspective: Triangulation can be a nightmare in the workplace. Maybe you’ve seen it: A colleague complains about a manager or another team member to you, pulling you into their grievances. Instead of directly addressing the issue with the person they’re upset with, they try to get your sympathy, possibly in an attempt to win you over or get you to agree with their side. Now, you’re not only feeling uncomfortable but possibly in the middle of a situation that could affect your work dynamics, too. It creates division, mistrust, and undermines teamwork.

    The Harm It Causes

    Triangulation doesn’t just make you feel awkward—it can really harm relationships, both personal and professional. Here are some of the issues that arise when triangulation is at play:

    1. Miscommunication: Because you’re only hearing one side of the story, there’s a lot of room for misunderstanding. You don’t get the full picture, and things can get distorted, making it harder to figure out what’s really going on.
    2. Toxic Relationships: Triangulation creates an unhealthy dynamic where people don’t communicate directly. Instead, there’s secrecy, manipulation, and a breakdown of trust. Over time, it can chip away at the foundation of the relationship.
    3. Stress and Anxiety: When you’re caught in the middle, it can feel like you’re walking on eggshells. You worry about saying the wrong thing or making people upset. The constant stress of being a go-between can take a toll on your mental health.
    4. Disempowerment: If you’re always being dragged into conflicts, you may start to feel like your own voice and opinion don’t matter. Your role is reduced to being a pawn in someone else’s drama, and that can be incredibly disempowering.
    5. Division: In families and workplaces, triangulation creates sides, which causes division. People become more focused on taking sides or seeking validation than working together to resolve the issue at hand.

    How to Cope With Triangulation

    1. Set Boundaries: This is key. Whether at work or in your personal life, make it clear that you’re not comfortable being pulled into someone else’s conflict. Politely but firmly tell the person that you’re not the right person to talk to about the situation and encourage them to speak directly to the person involved.
    2. Be Neutral: If you find yourself in the middle of triangulation, try to remain neutral. Don’t take sides, and avoid making judgments based on incomplete information. If necessary, redirect the conversation back to the person they have the issue with.
    3. Encourage Direct Communication: One of the best ways to stop triangulation is by promoting direct communication between the parties involved. Gently suggest that the person who is upset speak directly to the person they’re having an issue with, rather than involving you.
    4. Don’t Get Emotional: Triangulation can be emotionally manipulative, but it’s important not to get caught up in the emotions of the situation. Keep your feelings in check and don’t let anyone use you to get a reaction out of others.
    5. Seek Support: If you’re dealing with triangulation, it’s helpful to talk to someone you trust. It could be a therapist, a friend, or a colleague who isn’t involved in the situation. Talking it out helps you process your feelings and avoid internalizing the stress of being in the middle.

    Final Thoughts

    Triangulation may seem like a small issue, but it can spiral into something bigger, affecting not only the relationships of the people directly involved but also your own emotional health. Whether at home or at work, it’s important to recognize triangulation when it happens and take steps to protect yourself. Open, honest, and direct communication is the key to avoiding it—and if you find yourself in the middle, it’s okay to step back, set boundaries, and prioritize your own peace of mind.

    If you’ve ever experienced triangulation, I’d love to hear how you’ve handled it or any tips you might have for coping with it. Let’s talk about it!

  • The Draw of Psychology

    I recently came across a quote from The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides that stopped me in my tracks:

    “I believe the same is true for most people who go into mental health. We are drawn to this profession because we are damaged—we study psychology to heal ourselves.”

    It struck a chord with me because it encapsulates the deeply personal reason I’ve always been fascinated by psychology. My interest began with my very first college psychology class. I was hooked, not just by the science of it, but by the way it seemed to illuminate the human condition—my condition.

    Years later, when childhood traumas I had long buried began to surface, psychology became a lifeline. Therapy and psychology books were the first places I turned, hoping to understand myself, heal, and learn how to set boundaries. I wanted to know why I had spent decades in denial about the dysfunction in my family. I had questions, and psychology held the answers I desperately needed.

    What I’ve learned is that denial is a survival mechanism. It shields us from pain until we’re ready to confront it. For years, I clung to a narrative that felt safe. But when the cracks appeared, I couldn’t unsee them. Psychology helped me name the chaos I grew up in, recognize unhealthy patterns, and, most importantly, begin the work of healing.

    And here’s the thing—I’ve come to believe we’re all healing from something. Life leaves its marks on all of us, whether it’s childhood wounds, broken relationships, or the weight of unmet expectations. Healing isn’t linear, and it isn’t quick. It’s messy, frustrating, and often painful. But it’s also worth it.

    Psychology taught me that understanding is the foundation of healing. By exploring the “why” behind our emotions and behaviors, we can begin to untangle the threads of our past and create a healthier future. It’s a process of unlearning harmful patterns, rewriting our inner narratives, and building something stronger in their place.

    For me, psychology has been more than an academic interest; it has been a mirror, a roadmap, and a guide. It’s shown me that while we may be “damaged,” we are not broken beyond repair. We are capable of growth, resilience, and transformation.

    If you’ve ever been curious about what makes us who we are, I encourage you to dive into this field—even if you’re just exploring for yourself. It’s not just about healing the world; sometimes, it’s about healing ourselves first. And as we heal, we create space for others to do the same.

  • Protecting Your Family From Manipulative People

    Let’s talk about something we all hope never to deal with: people who try to worm their way into your family and use manipulation to get what they want. You know the type—they seem charming at first, maybe even helpful, but over time, their true colors start to show. Before you know it, they’re stirring up drama, playing the victim, or turning people against each other. It’s exhausting, right?

    Here’s the thing: protecting your family from these kinds of people isn’t just important—it’s absolutely necessary. Let’s break it down.


    How Manipulators Operate

    These people don’t show up with a flashing sign that says, “I’m here to mess things up!” They’re sneaky. They might:

    • Act helpless: They love to make you feel sorry for them. Suddenly, you’re bending over backward to help someone who never seems to help themselves.
    • Twist the truth: They’ll make you question your own memory or feelings. You’ll catch yourself thinking, Am I the problem here? Spoiler alert: you’re not.
    • Exploit weaknesses: Maybe they latch onto the soft-hearted member of your family, or they guilt-trip someone who’s too nice to say no.
    • Create drama: They thrive on chaos. They’ll pit people against each other or stir up conflict to keep the focus off their own behavior.

    Sound familiar?


    Why It’s Such a Big Deal

    If you let this kind of behavior slide, it doesn’t just go away. It grows. Here’s what happens when you don’t set boundaries:

    1. Trust gets shaky: Suddenly, you’re questioning each other instead of the person causing the problems.
    2. Everyone’s drained: Dealing with manipulation is emotionally exhausting. You end up feeling tense, frustrated, and maybe even guilty for wanting peace.
    3. The family dynamic shifts: Instead of feeling like a team, your family starts to feel fractured, which is exactly what the manipulator wants.

    So, What Can You Do?

    Protecting your family doesn’t mean you have to be rude or aggressive, but it does mean you have to take a stand. Here’s how:

    • Set boundaries: Be clear about what’s okay and what’s not. And don’t just set the boundary—enforce it.
    • Trust your gut: If someone’s actions consistently make you uncomfortable, pay attention to that feeling.
    • Stick together: Talk openly as a family about what’s going on. The manipulator’s power comes from dividing you—don’t give them that chance.
    • Know when to walk away: If someone keeps crossing the line despite your best efforts, it might be time to cut ties. It’s tough, but sometimes it’s the only way to protect your peace.

    It’s Okay to Protect Your Space

    At the end of the day, you don’t owe anyone an open door to your family. If someone’s behavior is causing harm, you’re allowed to step in and say, “Enough.” That doesn’t make you mean or heartless—it makes you protective of the people you care about.

    Family should be a place of love and support, not manipulation and drama. If someone can’t respect that, it’s not your job to make excuses for them. Trust yourself, stand firm, and protect what matters most. You’ve got this.

  • Naming the Darkness: How Neon Angel Resonates with My Experience

    Reading Cherie Currie’s memoir, Neon Angel, was a deeply moving experience. Cherie’s story of rising to fame with The Runaways and the darker struggles that came with it is raw, unfiltered, and deeply human. One quote in particular struck a chord with me: “Because there is a certain type of person in this world, a type that has something black inside of their soul.”

    Growing up in my dad’s bar, those words resonated on a level that’s hard to describe. As a teenager working behind the bar, the threat of sexual assault wasn’t some distant fear—it was an ever-present shadow. I was only 14 when I started bartending, and by the time I was 16, I’d seen the worst parts of human nature far too often.

    There were always those regulars who had my dad fooled. They’d come in, shake his hand, and laugh like they were the picture of respectability. To him, they were “upstanding citizens,” good for business and trustworthy. But once a few drinks loosened their tongues, their true nature came out. They’d flirt, they’d grope, and some even tried to manipulate me into being affectionate with them.

    It’s difficult to explain what it’s like to be in that position, teetering between fear and self-preservation. I never felt safe around those men, yet I also understood the stakes. My dad’s business depended on these customers, and I didn’t know how far I could push before accusations would turn into drama—or worse. At 14, 15, 16 years old, I had no idea how to navigate that fine line.

    How much do you tell your dad when you’re that young? What if he doesn’t believe you, or what if he does and things escalate? These questions swirled in my mind constantly, leaving me feeling isolated and unsure of how to protect myself. I learned to smile politely, sidestep advances, and deflect with jokes, all while keeping my guard up. Looking back, it was a survival strategy—but it shouldn’t have had to be.

    Reading Cherie’s words about the darkness inside some people’s souls brought back those memories in a wave of understanding and validation. She’d seen that darkness too, felt it closing in, and fought against it. There’s a strange kind of comfort in knowing you’re not alone, that someone else has faced the same shadows and named them for what they are.

    Her memoir reminded me of the strength it takes to confront those moments and the importance of shedding light on these experiences. When I think back to that time in my life, I feel a mix of emotions: anger, sadness, and pride. Anger at the men who thought their behavior was acceptable. Sadness for the girl I was, navigating a world where she didn’t feel protected. And pride for the woman I’ve become, who’s not afraid to speak the truth.

    Neon Angel isn’t just a story about music and fame; it’s a story about resilience. It’s about naming the darkness and refusing to let it define you. For anyone who’s ever felt that shadow looming, Cherie’s words are a reminder that you’re not alone, and that your voice has power. I wish I’d known that back then, but I’m grateful to know it now.

  • Full Circle: A Reflection on Penny, My Childhood Bully

    Life has a funny way of coming full circle, doesn’t it? As I sit here reflecting on my childhood, one story stands out—a story that I’ve spent years processing, only to find it has a twist ending that even I couldn’t have predicted.

    Let me introduce you to Penny, the girl who turned my junior high years into a battlefield. Penny and I met in 5th grade when she transferred to the same elementary school. At first, we were friends—two girls navigating the awkwardness of pre-adolescence. She lived in a trailer park with her mom and younger sister. I visited her home a handful of times, but there was never much adult supervision. Her mom worked second shift at a nursing home and would often head out to the bars after her shift, leaving Penny and her sister to fend for themselves.

    We spent summers walking around the trailer park—something I now realize was dangerous given the sketchiness of the area. Penny loved chasing boys and flirting, a hobby that didn’t sit well with me. But things shifted in 7th grade when Penny decided I was a threat to her relationship with her boyfriend. The accusation was absurd—I had no interest in him—but that didn’t stop her from turning on me.

    The insults came first. She called me ugly, accused me of stealing his attention, and declared I’d never be good enough for anyone. By 8th grade, she’d recruited a posse of mean girls to back her up. I was shoved into lockers, my head slammed against walls, and mocked with the nickname “Tuna.” They tried to make me feel ugly, unwanted, and disgusting. And for a while, they succeeded.

    Their cruelty stripped me of my confidence, leaving me feeling small and helpless. My father, furious at the treatment I endured, told me to steer clear of those girls, calling them “derelicts and deadbeats.” Over the summer before freshman year, I took his words to heart. I realized I had nothing to prove to Penny or anyone else. I learned to stand up for myself and started to see their behavior for what it was: jealousy.

    They envied the life I had—a stable home, loving parents, and opportunities they couldn’t imagine. I was more than just the girl-next-door pretty or the friendly face in class. I had potential, ambition, and resilience.

    Fast forward to now, and here’s the ironic twist: Penny is a bartender at my family’s tavern, a job she landed during a period when I was no-contact with my family. When I first heard the news, I laughed. The girl who once tried to make me feel small is now working for my family. Imagine being a single mother of five, no education, and needing to ask for a job from the family of the girl you tormented in junior high.

    Is she laughing about this, thinking she pulled one over on them? Maybe. I’m almost certain her thinking was, look how dumb the Jurgellas are, they know I bullied Dana and hired me anyway. But I can’t help but see the poetic justice in it all. Penny, who thought she was untouchable back in the day, is now slinging drinks in a bar owned by my family.

    Meanwhile, I’ve built a life I’m proud of—a college-educated professional with a fulfilling career, a loving husband, and three wonderful kids. I live in a home filled with love, a far cry from the chaos of her trailer park days.

    Penny once tried to make me feel like a loser, but life has a way of revealing the truth. I didn’t just survive her bullying; I thrived despite it. And that’s the ultimate victory.

  • When Growth Feels Like Betrayal: Navigating Family Dynamics During Personal Evolution

    Growth is beautiful. It’s messy, hard, and often uncomfortable, but it’s also deeply fulfilling. However, for those of us growing within dysfunctional family systems, personal evolution can feel like a betrayal—not of yourself, but of them. Suddenly, your pursuit of bettering your life becomes a mirror reflecting their insecurities, their stagnant choices, and their unresolved wounds.

    If you’ve heard phrases like “You think you’re better than us” or “You’re so perfect now,” you’re not alone. These words sting, but they reveal something deeper: their struggles, not yours. The truth is, your growth can disrupt the equilibrium in a family system that relies on everyone staying the same.

    I’ve been on my own personal growth journey for the last four years, and it may seem like a long time to some, but there’s so much to unpack from the baggage of my childhood. Therapy, self-awareness, and a ton of self-reflection has taught me a thing or two, and I’m happy to share these lessons with you.

    Understanding the Dynamics

    1. Projection
      What they accuse you of isn’t necessarily about you—it’s about them. When someone projects feelings of insecurity or failure onto you, it’s easier for them than facing their own discomfort.
    2. The Lack of Grace
      Families steeped in dysfunction often struggle to offer grace because it challenges the roles they’ve assigned. You’ve stepped out of the role they expect you to play—maybe it was “the helper,” “the black sheep,” or “the fixer.” Without that role, they don’t know how to interact with you.
    3. Emotional Outsourcing
      Dysfunctional families often expect one member to manage everyone’s emotions. By focusing on your own growth, you’re inadvertently signaling that you won’t carry that burden anymore, which can create tension.

    Coping Strategies

    1. Set Boundaries, Not Walls
      Boundaries are about protection, not punishment. Let your family know what behavior you will and won’t accept. For example, calmly responding with, “I don’t think it’s fair to assume I think I’m better than you just because I’m working on myself,” can gently reframe the conversation.
    2. Release the Need for Approval
      You don’t need their validation to continue growing. It’s okay if your journey makes others uncomfortable; you’re not responsible for their feelings. Focus on aligning your actions with your values, not their expectations.
    3. Practice Compassion Without Enabling
      While their behavior may hurt, it often stems from pain. Acknowledge their feelings without taking responsibility for them. Say things like, “I understand this is hard for you, but my growth is important to me.”
    4. Find Your Support System
      Surround yourself with people who celebrate your wins and hold space for your struggles. Whether it’s friends, a mentor, or a therapist, having a safe space to process emotions is vital.
    5. Forgive Without Forgetting
      Forgiveness doesn’t mean condoning harmful behavior. It means freeing yourself from resentment so you can move forward unburdened. But forgiveness doesn’t erase the need for accountability or boundaries.

    Moving Forward

    When you’re not given grace, give it to yourself. When they don’t allow you to fail, remind yourself it’s okay to stumble. When they try to pull you into old patterns, stand firm in your growth.

    Your journey is yours alone, and it’s okay if it doesn’t fit their narrative. Keep evolving, even if it means walking a lonely path for a while. Growth doesn’t mean leaving them behind—it means choosing yourself without abandoning them. Whether they join you on this journey or stay behind, your responsibility is to yourself first.

    Remember: You’re not growing to prove them wrong. You’re growing to become who you’re meant to be. That is reason enough.

  • The Doer’s Dilemma: Remembering Self-Care in the Chaos

    Hey there, fellow doers! You know who you are – the ones who always seem to have a never-ending to-do list, the go-getters, the fixers, the ones who somehow manage to keep everything together even when it feels like the world is falling apart. Yes, you, the unsung heroes of everyday life.

    Let’s talk about something that often gets overlooked in the hustle and bustle of constantly doing for others – self-care. Yep, that thing we all know we should be doing but often push to the bottom of our priorities because, well, there’s just so much to do, right?

    I get it. I’m guilty of it myself. As someone who tends to take on a lot and put others’ needs before my own, I know firsthand how easy it is to forget about self-care. But here’s the thing – neglecting ourselves in favor of taking care of others isn’t sustainable. Eventually, it catches up with us, leaving us feeling exhausted, burnt out, and frankly, not very effective at helping others.

    So, why do we do it? Why do we put our own needs on the back burner in favor of helping everyone else? Well, for starters, it’s often because we genuinely care about the people around us (or, if you’re like me, you were conditioned from a young age to believe your self-worth is tied to how much you do for others). Whether it’s family, friends, coworkers, or even strangers, we want to make a difference in their lives, and sometimes that means sacrificing our own well-being in the process.

    But here’s the reality check – we can’t pour from an empty cup. In other words, if we’re not taking care of ourselves, we’re not going to be able to effectively take care of others either. It’s like trying to drive a car without ever stopping to refuel – eventually, you’re going to run out of gas.

    So, how do we break the cycle of putting others first and neglecting ourselves? Well, it starts with a mindset shift. We need to recognize that self-care isn’t selfish – it’s necessary. Just like we wouldn’t expect a car to run without gas, we can’t expect ourselves to keep going without taking time to recharge.

    Self-care looks different for everyone, so it’s important to find what works best for you. Whether it’s carving out time for exercise, practicing mindfulness and meditation, indulging in a hobby you love, or simply taking a moment to breathe and relax, prioritize activities that nourish your mind, body, and soul.

    It’s also important to set boundaries and learn to say no when necessary. We can’t be everything to everyone, and that’s okay. Learning to prioritize our own needs doesn’t make us any less caring or compassionate – in fact, it makes us better able to show up for the people who need us most.

    So, to all the doers out there – keep doing what you do best, but don’t forget to take care of yourselves along the way. You deserve it, and trust me, the world will thank you for it.