Managing Big Feelings And The Epstein Files

I happened upon some of the contents of the Epstein Files a few days ago. I had been a little sick to my stomach anyway this week, but I had a physical response to what I read making me so upset that I nearly threw up.

So upset, in fact, that I couldn't even get the words out to tell Erik that I was upset or why for over a full 24 hours. When I finally told him, I could barely utter the words. It is unspeakable horrors against children.

I cried. I raged. I thought of my own children, and I cried some more, and I raged some more.

My old programs tried to distract myself, but I knew that my body would hold it, and I needed to do something with it. Eventually, yesterday, I helped myself by writing a blog about it that only was shared with Erik and my dad. It was not my usual encouraging and upbeat vibe. It's me processing a storm of big feelings inside of me.

Powerlessness. Hopelessness. Deep sadness. Devastation. Heartbreak. Righteous Rage.

Writing has been what I do in my life to put swirling thoughts somewhere. It helps me create a place for big things in my brain. When the thoughts have a processed place, I can distance myself from them, so as to function as a productive member of society again.

Fast forward to today, Ben has been a stage five clinger even more than usual lately. I had to get some laundry done, and I wanted to bake some muffins for the kids. Ben was having no part in being put down at all today. You should see the muscles I have now from carrying this child everywhere I go.

I decided to create the boundary and set him down next to me. He sobbed his sweet little heart out like I had abandoned him alone on a deserted mountain top.

I started to just detach and ignore it and do the things I needed to do. The crying has been known to rattle me, and I try to fix it and make it stop, or I have to just tune it out.

Neither are a great option. When I cater to his every whim, I'm not doing him or me any favors, by letting a 19 month old determine our lives, and when I tune it out though, I also tune out and turn off to myself.

As the crying continued, I squatted down on his level and looked in his big, sad, tear-filled eyes. I told him, " It's okay, Ben. I can hang with these big feelings." I stayed tuned in to him and me, but I also didn't give in.

Miss Rachel came in clutch. I started softly singing her big feelings song. "Big feelings are okay. It's okay to have big feelings. I can sit with your big feelings."

As I sang, I realized that I was not only singing to Ben but also to myself. I sat with the storm that hearing my child cry creates in me.

I sat with the powerlessness. I sat with the frustration. I sat with the ringing in my ears from the loud screaming.

I felt a shift in me, and so did Ben. My curiosity came back online as I stepped out of being afraid of or trying to manage the crying. I handed him a spare muffin tray. He liked that. I started baking again. I gave him a spoon and let him bang it. Then I added some oats and cinnamon. He was delighted.

We baked together in peace. Both of our nervous systems were regulated.

My big feelings about what I saw in the disturbing Epstein files are okay. I don't need to fix everything in this moment. I can sit with my own big feelings, so I can regulate and get curious about ways to make a difference.

So, thanks Miss Rachel for the reminder. You helped an adult today too.