Neglect

I’ve spent most of my life believing I need to improve. Like I needed to change to be a better version of myself. I felt there was always another habit to build, another system to fix, another goal to reach. And honestly, it was exhausting living that way.

There was a time when I was constantly looking for ways to improve my daily routine. I would always start out with great ideas, curating the perfect plan and executing it on paper. I wanted to make my life more productive, steady, and something to be proud of. But when it came to follow through, I ignored it completely. Every single time.

I’d always get so excited to buy a new planner and fill up the pages with daily tasks to keep me in check throughout the day. To give me structure. To provide a sense of security.

I remember actually going to Office Depot and browsing the office supply section. I’d grab highlighters, pens, Post-it tabs, everything to make it “perfect.” And of course, I’d find a beautiful planner. I’d go home so giddy to start putting it all together and making the best routine for myself.

Morning

• Wake up and have my cup of coffee

• Take a shower, brush my teeth, get dressed

• Make a healthy breakfast

Afternoon

• Go to work/school/errands/appointments

• Grab or make lunch

• Rest for an hour (write, watch TV, be still)

Evening

• Go on an evening walk to get my steps in

• Cook a healthy dinner

• Do my nightly skincare routine

• Read until bedtime

Sounds like a good schedule for my particular needs.

But I’d usually stick with it for one or two days, and then completely neglect it. Either from lack of motivation, finding it exhausting, or just losing interest altogether. And every time it happened, it felt less like a small slip and more like confirmation that I couldn’t keep anything together the way I wanted to.

When Self-Improvement Starts Feeling Like Self-Criticism

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to grow because growth can be beautiful. But somewhere along the way, I started treating every part of my life like a problem that needed solving.

If I was tired, I needed a better routine like the one above. If I was overwhelmed, I needed better time management. And if I was struggling emotionally, I needed to work harder on myself. I was always looking for an answer. Always trying to optimize and fix.

But sometimes life isn’t asking us to improve. Sometimes it’s asking us for rest.

And I don’t think I understood that for a long time. I thought rest was something I had to earn after I got everything right.

The Pressure to Be Better All the Time

We live in a world that constantly tells us we should be improving—work harder, stay fit, build better habits, become your best self. And while none of those things are bad, it can start to feel like we’re never allowed to simply exist. Like who we are right now is never enough.

I’ve always viewed productivity as the key to “making it” in the world. I thought the more success you had, the better life you’d lead.

I’d constantly compare myself and measure myself against other people’s success, and I always felt so behind. Instead of pushing forward, I slowly started pulling back—not because I didn’t care, but because it felt like I was already failing no matter how hard I tried.

I felt like I could never be like those people because I processed everything slower than others. I didn’t have that energy, that gusto, to succeed the way others were so passionate about it. I put myself into a category of shame and guilt for being so “lazy.”

I sat back and watched others perform well, while I rested instead, but even rest didn’t feel like rest. It felt like guilt sitting quietly in the background the entire time.

It was just too much pressure, too much mental exhaustion, too much self-doubt and fear of criticism. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out there and succeed at life.

What I Was Really Looking For

When I look back, I don’t think I was searching for a better routine. I think I was searching for peace. I thought the perfect system would make me feel calm. I thought the perfect planner would make me feel organized. But peace didn’t come from optimizing everything. It came from just letting things be.

And that realization almost felt simple, but it took me a long time to actually believe it.

What Slow Living Has Taught Me

Slow living has taught me that not everything needs improvement. Some things just need acceptance, patience, and time.

I’ve stopped trying to turn every hobby into a goal. I’ve stopped trying to make every day productive. And I’ve stopped treating rest like something I have to earn. And my life is better because of it.

Not perfect. Just softer. More livable.

What My Life Looks Like Now

Now I’m more interested in comfort than optimization. I care more about how my life feels than how it looks.

• I enjoy slow mornings

• Comfort food

• Walks without a destination

• Reading without turning it into a challenge

• Resting without justifying it

I still have a lot of goals. I still want to grow. But I’m no longer trying to squeeze every drop of productivity out of every moment.

For years, I thought peace was something I had to earn through discipline or the right routine. Something waiting for me once I finally got my life together.

Now I think peace was here all along.

I just couldn’t feel it because I was so busy trying to improve everything.

And maybe that’s what I’m learning now.

I don’t need to become someone else to have a meaningful life. I just need to stop treating my life like something that’s constantly falling short.

What part of your life are you still trying to “fix,” and what would it feel like to let it simply be for a while?

“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.”— Carl Rogers

#MentalHealth #selfcare #Neurodiversity #MightyTogether

I posted several days ago about how a cowbird placed its egg in a wrens nest. Cowbirds don’t care for their own babies. They neglect them. The cowbird and 3 wrens hatched in the nest. Unfortunately for the cowbird baby, house wrens are vegetarian. Cowbirds need high protein, so the baby starved to death. The house wren babies are flourishing.
My heart breaks for the baby bird who didn’t make it. It isn’t fair. Babies need nurturing from their mothers. I wish I’d gotten it from my own mom. I’ll always feel that void. Oh, I can learn to deal with it, say it wasn’t my fault, live my life. But even Jesus had a mom who never gave up on him. He didn’t experience what I did. But yet, I hold onto this verse:
Psalm 27:10 "Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close."

You can’t always see trauma.

It doesn’t always show up as bruises or broken bones.

Sometimes it shows up as anxiety that never seems to quiet down. Sometimes it shows up as addiction. Sometimes it shows up as pushing people away before they can hurt you.

Trauma often hides in the thoughts we carry about ourselves:

“I’m not good enough.”
“I can’t trust anyone.”
“Something must be wrong with me.”

For many individuals, trauma becomes something they wear every day—shaping how they see the world, how they connect with others, and how they survive.

Understanding trauma is not only essential for healing individuals; it is critical for transforming the systems that support them, including mental health services, addiction treatment, and child welfare.

Understanding Trauma

Trauma occurs when a person experiences events that overwhelm their ability to cope and leave lasting emotional, psychological, or physical effects.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) defines trauma as experiences that are emotionally harmful or life-threatening and have lasting adverse effects on functioning and well-being (SAMHSA, 2014).

Trauma can take many forms, including:

*Childhood abuse or neglect

*Domestic violence

*Exposure to addiction in the home

*Systemic discrimination

*Chronic instability or loss

For many individuals involved in mental health, addiction services, or child welfare systems, trauma is not a single event. It is often complex and cumulative, developing over time through repeated exposure to adversity.

Trauma Changes the Brain

Trauma does not just affect emotions—it affects biology.

When a person experiences danger, the body activates its survival response: fight, flight, or freeze. Stress hormones such as cortisol and adrenaline surge to prepare the body to respond.
While this response is adaptive in moments of immediate danger, chronic exposure to trauma can keep the nervous system in a prolonged state of survival.

Research shows trauma affects several critical areas of the brain:

*The amygdala, which processes fear, becomes overactive, increasing hypervigilance.

*The hippocampus, responsible for memory processing, may become impaired.

*The prefrontal cortex, which regulates decision-making and emotional control, can become less effective under chronic stress (van der Kolk, 2014).

Canadian research has also emphasized the long-term developmental effects of early adversity. Studies suggest that chronic childhood stress can disrupt neurological development and increase vulnerability to mental health disorders later in life (McEwen & McEwen, 2017).

Understanding these changes helps shift our perspective.

Instead of asking “What is wrong with this person?” we begin asking “What happened to this person?”

Trauma, Addiction, and Mental Health

The relationship between trauma and addiction is well established.

Many individuals struggling with substance use are not simply seeking escape or pleasure. They are often attempting to regulate overwhelming emotional pain.

The landmark Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study found that individuals who experienced multiple forms of childhood adversity were significantly more likely to develop substance use disorders, depression, suicide attempts, and chronic health conditions later in life (Felitti et al., 1998).

Canadian public health research reflects similar findings. The Public Health Agency of Canada has reported strong connections between childhood trauma, exposure to violence, and later mental health and substance use challenges (Public Health Agency of Canada, 2020).

For many individuals, addiction becomes a coping mechanism—an attempt to numb memories, quiet intrusive thoughts, or regulate emotional pain.

Understanding this connection is essential for compassionate and effective care.

Trauma Within Systems

Trauma is not only an individual experience—it is also shaped by social systems.

Across Canada, research shows that children involved in child welfare systems often have extensive histories of trauma, including exposure to abuse, neglect, family violence, and parental substance use (Esposito et al., 2017).

Yet systems designed to support vulnerable populations are not always trauma-informed.
Without understanding trauma, behaviours may be misinterpreted as:

*Defiance

*Manipulation

*Resistance

*Non-compliance

In reality, many of these behaviours are survival responses.

Trauma-informed approaches emphasize safety, empowerment, trust, and collaboration rather than punishment or judgment (Poole & Greaves, 2012). When systems adopt trauma-informed frameworks, individuals are more likely to engage in services and experience meaningful healing.

Personal Reflection

Trauma is something many people carry quietly.

Through both my professional work and my own life experiences, I have seen how trauma can shape people in ways the outside world rarely understands.

I have seen individuals labelled as “difficult,” “attention-seeking,” or “non-compliant,” when what they were really experiencing was unprocessed pain.

I have also seen how trauma can intertwine with addiction and mental health struggles, creating cycles that are incredibly difficult to break—especially when systems respond with judgment instead of compassion.

Healing does not happen because someone is told to “move on” or “be stronger.”

Healing happens when people feel safe enough to finally be understood.

Recovery is not about pretending trauma never happened. It is about learning how to process it, make meaning of it, and reclaim parts of ourselves that trauma tried to silence.

And sometimes the most powerful part of healing is realizing this:

You are not broken.
You adapted to survive.

Moving Forward: A Call for Compassion and Change

Trauma shapes people—but it does not have to define them.

When we begin to understand trauma, something shifts.
Shame begins to loosen its grip.
Judgment begins to soften.
And compassion begins to take its place.

But healing cannot happen through awareness alone.
Our communities, mental health systems, addiction services, and child welfare systems must move toward trauma-informed care—approaches that recognize the profound impact of trauma and respond with empathy rather than punishment.

Because when we stop asking “What is wrong with this person?” and start asking “What happened to this person?” we open the door to healing.

That shift has the power to transform lives.

It is also the foundation of the work I hope to continue through Rise Above Your Norm—creating spaces where people are seen, understood, and supported as they rebuild their lives.

Because healing is possible.
And no one should have to do it alone.

BigmommaJ
#MentalHealth #traumainformed #Healing

Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) is one of the most misunderstood and stigmatized diagnoses in mental health.
Not only by society—but within the very systems meant to offer care.

For individuals with BPD, especially those with histories in child welfare or addiction services, help-seeking is often met with subtle rejection: long waitlists, referrals that go nowhere, or the unspoken message—we don’t work with that.

This is not accidental. It is systemic.

BPD as a Trauma Response, Not a Character Defect

From a trauma-informed and child welfare perspective, BPD makes sense.

Canadian research consistently links BPD to:

*Chronic childhood maltreatment

*Attachment disruption

*Foster care placement

*Instability

*Emotional invalidation and neglect (Gilbert et al., 2020; Public Health Agency of Canada, 2018)

What clinicians sometimes label as manipulation is often:

*Fear-based survival behavior

*Attachment-seeking shaped by inconsistency

*A nervous system trained to expect abandonment

In child welfare, we understand that children adapt to unsafe environments to survive.
BPD represents those same adaptations—carried into adulthood.

Child Welfare: Where the Story Often Begins

Many adults diagnosed with BPD have histories that include:

*Multiple placements

*Separation from primary caregivers

*Exposure to domestic violence

Early involvement with protection systems
(Fallon et al., 2015)

Yet child welfare systems are rarely equipped to provide long-term relational repair. Instead, children learn early that:

*Care is conditional

*Attachment is temporary

*Needs can be dangerous

When those children become adults, the mental health system often responds with the same instability—repeating the trauma under a clinical name.

Addiction and BPD: A Shared Nervous System Story

In Canadian addiction services, BPD is frequently misinterpreted as non-compliance or treatment failure.

But the overlap is well-documented:

*High rates of substance use among individuals with BPD

*Substances used to regulate overwhelming emotional states

*Addiction functioning as a form of self-soothing when no relational safety exists
(Canadian Centre on Substance Use and Addiction [CCSA], 2022)

From a clinical lens, addiction and BPD are not separate issues—they are co-occurring trauma responses.

Treating one while ignoring the other leads to relapse, disengagement, and revolving-door care.

Why Professionals Avoid This Work

As a professional, it’s important to name the truth honestly.

Many clinicians avoid BPD because:

*Graduate programs offer minimal training in personality disorders

*There is limited access to supervision and consultation

*Systems prioritize brief, symptom-focused interventions

*Risk management is placed on individual clinicians, not teams

In under-resourced Canadian systems, clinicians are often expected to manage:

*Self-harm risk

*Suicidality

*Crisis presentations without adequate backup or support (CAMH, 2021).

Avoidance becomes a form of self-protection—not clinical best practice.

The Systemic Failure, Not a Clinical One

Here’s what often goes unsaid:

BPD has one of the most positive long-term prognoses when treated appropriately.

Evidence-based approaches such as:

*Dialectical Behaviour Therapy (DBT)

*Mentalization-Based Therapy (MBT)

*Trauma-informed, attachment-focused care

Show significant reductions in:

*Self-harm

*Hospitalization

*Substance use

*Emotional dysregulation
(Linehan et al., 2015; CAMH, 2021)

The issue is not that people with BPD can’t heal.

It’s that our systems are not designed to stay.

The Cost of Professional Avoidance

When professionals opt out of BPD care:

*Clients internalize shame

*Trauma is reinforced

*Trust in helping systems erodes

*People disengage until crisis forces re-entry

In child welfare and addiction work, we know that repeated system rejection increases risk, not resilience.

Avoidance is not neutral.
It causes harm.

A Trauma-Informed Professional Reframe

From a clinical and ethical standpoint, working with BPD requires:

*Advanced training, not fear

*Supervision, not isolation

*Team-based responsibility, not individual liability

*Curiosity, not judgment

People with BPD are not “too much.”

They are often the most impacted by systems that failed to protect them early—and continue to struggle to hold them now.

Final Reflection

If we truly believe in trauma-informed care, we must ask harder questions:

*Why do child welfare systems end at adulthood?

*Why are addiction services separated from attachment trauma?

*Why do clinicians carry risk alone in underfunded systems?

And most importantly:

*Why do we continue to abandon people whose core wound is abandonment?

Healing happens when care is consistent, informed, and relational.

And when systems are willing to stay, people with BPD do more than survive.

They rise above what they were taught to expect.

BigmommaJ
#BPD #Awareness