Tag Archives: mental-health

Resolutions 2026

Women are ruthless and unrelenting in their assessments of how we look. This year, I’d like to wake up each morning and say to myself, “You look like yourself” and have that be a good thing. I’m definitely moving toward that goal.

Once this past year, I looked in the mirror and said out loud, “I look like a 44 year old woman” and I smiled and left for work.

I don’t look in the mirror as much as I did when I was a kid or a young adult. When I was little, I would sit on the bathroom sink and talk right to myself. I studied my eyebrows and worked patiently on getting one eyebrow to raise, while the other one stayed put. In high school, I’d stare at my reflection in the trophy cases, trying to decide if I was worthy of friendship and a good future.

Worrying about looks is age appropriate for the young, but I even wish they didn’t have to worry about hair, weight, and how it all goes together. I definitely don’t want this for people my age and older! A young woman once told me a story of her grandmother dying. She went to visit her at the hospital and her grandmother was bright and let her know that she’d lost a lot of weight. Eeeesh. I felt sad hearing that.

If you set fitness goals this year, do it for love.

Love of your family and yourself. Exercise to make your heart beat longer. So, you can play with your kids and grandkids more days! Eat vegetables, because they fill you with nutrients your body needs to be able to live out the various vocations God calls us to do. Drink water, so you will have less headaches that get in the way of listening to your loved ones. Be aware of how you choose to spend your minutes, and many times guide yourself back to the activities that have meaning for you and your community. Look back, each day, and ask yourself: Did this day go the way I hoped? Are there things I could have done differently? Sometimes, the answer is that the day went just fine.

That you are just fine.

Other days, you’ll look back and realize that it wasn’t that great. Be kind! Make a gentle plan to do the next day closer to the values you hold dear. Pray for help. You are connected to all that is good and you don’t have to be perfect to accept that Love.

God bless you today and always!

Terra Rose

That was a long time ago, though, wasn’t it?

Complicated grief is a phrase in the mental health field.

But isn’t all grief complicated?

Rarely a day goes by where a song or bald eagle doesn’t bring it all back. Only recently, have I been in a place where I feel like I’m missing my loved ones in a more joyful way. Like I remember basketball in our driveway with my Dad. Or the way Al would say, “Talk to you later, pal.” That my Grandma made a delicious peach pie. And my Grandpa was a better listener than I will ever be. The smell of oatmeal at 4am, sleeping on the pull-out couch at my other set of grandparents. Farmers never retire. Laughter and Rosary in a circle with my Grandma’s friends. Kittens and a cow that nipped at us when we turned this one corner of the barn. Throwing rocks in a manure pit and running away from the smell. Hay barn. Sunfish and paddleboat.

Why do we get stuck, sometimes, only remembering the worst parts?

When I was a young adult, the college counselor said I had PTSD and complicated grief. Now that I’m in the field of mental health, I don’t take that so seriously. The counselors at the college were graduate students…so pretty new to the work. Besides, I think we would have a better understanding of post traumatic stress on a continuum or with a scale or levels. Like how you can have different stages of cancer. Stage 1 is bad, but not as bad as Stage 4. People hear PTSD and think of wars or rape or domestic violence. And that is your stage 4 right there. But others have stuck memories that replay and replay at a stage 1 and its manageable as long as you take good care to drink water, sleep, exercise, eat okay foods, and talk with family and friends frequently (support system!).

When I was a young adult, I remember telling a boyfriend that I missed my Dad.

“That was a long time ago, though, wasn’t it?”

I remember that hurt felt really bad. Like walking on a sidewalk, looking at your feet, and running your head into a street sign. Clunk. But you want to play it cool and not look like a jerk that just ran into something.

“Yeah, I guess.”

I’ll never know for sure, but I think not sleeping much, eating ramen noodles, and drinking too much really contributed to how sad and pointless I felt many of the days I spent at college. My brain seemed to loop the same bad memories. Over and over and over.

I’m glad I found the exit ramp.

God Bless!

Terra Rose