anxiety

Sewing My Way to Sanity

Quilting started as a hobby. It has since evolved into emotional regulation… and an entirely unhinged fabric acquisition strategy.

When my brain feels loud and life feels like it’s happening all at once, quilting is the one thing that reliably quiets everything down. Measuring, cutting, piecing, pressing—my thoughts don’t stand a chance against a quarter-inch seam allowance.

Quilting demands just enough focus to keep me out of my own head.

You can’t spiral while trying to line up points. You can’t overthink when the fabric is actively trying to slide away from you. Quilting insists on presence, whether you’re ready for it or not.

And it’s physical in the best way.

The weight of folded fabric. The snick of the rotary cutter. The iron hissing like it’s judging you. The steady hum of the machine. It’s impossible to doom-scroll while quilting—which is unfortunate for my phone, but excellent for my nervous system.

Quilting is different than other crafts.

This isn’t instant gratification. Quilts take time. Weeks. Months. Sometimes years. Quilting teaches patience through mild frustration and repeated seam ripping. It also teaches acceptance—because at some point you decide that seam is close enough and move on with your life.

Other crafts chase perfection. Quilting gently whispers, “No one will see that once it’s quilted.”

And then there’s the fabric.

I do not have a fabric stash. I have a fabric collection. A carefully curated, emotionally significant archive of potential futures. Each piece has a purpose. Not a plan—a purpose. There is a difference.

Fabric hoarding is not about excess. It’s about preparedness.

What if I need it for this quilt? What if I never find it again? What if I don’t use it for five years but then suddenly it’s PERFECT? These are valid concerns and I will not be taking questions at this time.

Quilting humbles you regularly.

You sew something wrong. You seam rip it. You sew it wrong again. You question all your life choices. Then somehow, miraculously, it comes together. Quilting is basically resilience training with cotton.

But here’s the thing—it works.

Some days I quilt for joy.

Some days I quilt because my emotions are doing parkour.

Some days I quilt because keeping a pile of fabric organized feels easier than organizing my thoughts.

Quilting doesn’t fix everything.

But it gives my hands something steady to do while my brain sorts itself out. It reminds me that progress can be slow and still be progress. That messy pieces can become something beautiful. That it’s okay to pause, adjust, and keep going.

I didn’t mean to sew my way to sanity.

But here I am—surrounded by fabric, half-finished quilts, and the quiet comfort of knowing that if nothing else makes sense today, I can always line up another seam.

And honestly?

That—and maybe just one more yard of fabric—is enough.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Choosing Intentional in the Middle of Chaos

I know we’re halfway through January and I’m just now trying to form coherent thoughts about everything that’s hit my world over the last few weeks—but bear with me.

My word for 2026 is intentional.

I intend (no pun intended) to keep that word front and center as a reminder that life only happens to me if I let it. If I hand over control of my emotions and thoughts to the things that scare me, then I’m the one who pays the biggest price. And since my emotions and thoughts have been in a pretty steady free fall since before Christmas, I clearly need that reminder.

Someone once said—at least Fred repeated it often—that when life stops changing, you get about the business of dying. I know that. Even with as much growth as I’ve had in therapy, change still rocks my world. Nothing triggers my depression and anxiety faster than everything around me shifting for reasons I didn’t choose and can’t control.

Right now, I’m standing in the middle of massive change and chaos at work and last week Lilah was diagnosed with a soft tissue sarcoma. Either one of those alone would be enough to shake me. Both together have left me struggling to function… or even want to get out of bed.

Professionally, after almost 15 years in this place, I know I’ll be fine. Eventually.

Right now? I’d rather not be around anyone. I’m not fit company, and my patience is nonexistent.

My brain feels like someone dumped a bucket of ping-pong balls inside my head and then said, “Function as you normally would.”

Sometimes in life, you just get tired of operating at 200% when everyone around you struggles to hit 75% or to care as much as you do. But slacking off isn’t how I’m wired—no matter how bad I’m struggling. That’s the thing that keeps me being overlooked. Amy will always rise to the occasion no matter what.

And that’s exhausting.

Re: Lilah.

She is my baby. The other half of my heart.

We’ve lost so much in the last year—dog-wise—to cancer. Our vet firmly believes the surgery scheduled for the 23rd will put this monster to bed, but the fear is still there. We’ve already said goodbye to Paris and Hope because cancer and tumors won.

Does anyone really blame me for being just a little resistant to the idea that everything will be rosy?

I’m not sure any of this even makes sense, but the urge to get it out of my head and into written words was stronger than my need for polish. I’m carrying so many emotions right now.

Anger is at the top of the list. I’m tired of giving everything I have and being overlooked like paint on a wall.

Worry is right there with the anger.

Fear and anxiety have joined the line.

Tim would tell you depression is here too—and I know he’s right.

But circling back to my word.

Intentional.

I’m going to be intentional about how much I give.

Intentional about what I carry.

Intentional about where my energy goes.

Intentional about protecting the parts of me that are worn thin but still standing.

I don’t have answers. I don’t have clarity. I don’t even have peace right now.

But I do have intention—and for now, that’s enough to keep me trying to move forward.

Blessings y’all – Amy

A Little News and a Lot of Anxiety

Twenty plus years ago I was told I had Hashimoto’s. All I remember a the time was being told it was an autoimmune disorder and that I needed to make sure we kept my thyroid levels in balance. Given that I’ve been on thyroid medicine since about four months after Em was born didn’t seem life altering.

What I didn’t know over the ensuing twenty years of fighting to keep my thyroid levels stable through insurance insisting on generic thyroid medicine my body didn’t respond to (and being told I was crazy because I thought that), ups and downs in my levels due to weight gain and loss, hair loss, dry skin, and just general life was that that diagnosis meant my body was attacking itself and slowly killing off my thyroid.

In December of 2022 my company changed insurance companies. What ensued was the gluten free thyroid medicine I had finally gotten stable on for almost five years no longer being an approved medicine. Being shoved onto generic thyroid hormone that sent my body into a cycle of weight gain, hair loss, and general yuck. When Tim and I got married he did the research and we figured out how to go back to the right medicine albeit it of pocket. Though that was fall of 2023 we’ve fought all this time to get my thyroid to stabilize. Finally in February after another off kilter set of labs my GYN said “you have to see an endocrinologist”. Back story there – I hate endocrinologists. Between the fact that they are insanely smart humans usually who don’t know how to relate to you and listen to you when you talk and the one that prescribed Fred medicine and didn’t follow up on him thus leading to his kidney failure I’ve got no patience for them. My GP and GYN have managed my thyroid for years.

I procrastinated until end of February and finally got a referral sent to Tim’s endocrinologist. The ONE I actually like cause he listens to Tim and isn’t a condescending human. We expected it to be months before I could get in and after ten days without a phone call was surprised to finally get one Monday – with an opening the next day. Still calling that a God thing.

Dr. Burney walked in, sat down, and said tell me what’s up with your thyroid. IMMEDIATELY went to food…doctors don’t do that…and explained that Hashi’s patients can’t eat gluten. It inflames the gut and limits the absorption of the medicine. Do you know how many other docs had dismissed my saying I noticed a difference when I didn’t eat gluten even though I was negative for Celiac???

First change he made was saying from here on out it’s a strict gluten free diet. Also an unprocessed chemical free (whole foods) as much as possible. Hashi’s patients bodies attack foreign stuff and get inflamed and that prevents absorption of the medicine. Next up is continuing with getting some more of the weight off. The goal is to get me to ONE pill a day of the thyroid medicine so that if I’m going to pay for it out of pocket it’s not three boxes every six weeks to the tune of $185.

Then he took a look at my thyroid. It’s dead and gone. Shriveled up and fibrotic. The out of control Hashi’s has done its thing and I’ll be on the hormone therapy the rest of my life. As it has sunk it that how I feel will be a direct correlation to how I take care of myself for the rest of my life the more overwhelmed I’ve felt. Those close to me can tell you – the one thing I am worst at is taking care of me. And there is something different between choosing gluten free and being told it’s not an option anymore. As much as we travel it makes it a challenge.

I’m still exhausted, still have very little energy, and that’s as much mental exhaustion as it is physical. I have so much I want to do and right now nothing is cooperating. I am trying to lean into the amazing support that my hubby and kids are being but it’s hard. I am also angry. The ONE thyroid medicine most effective for Hashi’s patients most insurance companies don’t like and thus won’t pay for. To me that’s like saying you won’t pay for insulin for a diabetic. How dare you? Who made them God? It’s maddening.

If anyone with Hashi’s is reading this – your diet is as important as the medicine. You have more control than just the medicine. Take control and keep your thyroid functioning as long as you can.

Blessings y’all – Amy

The Ugly Side of Moving

I’ll preface this with I am well aware that I am beyond blessed. The manner in which all the pieces of the current season of life fell into place is nothing short of God’s grace. But for someone with anxiety being in a constant state of chaos has a price.

My sweet husband keeps telling me “it’ll be ok”. Along with “we’ll get there” and “it’s not a race”. What I can’t convey, what I don’t seem to be able to put into words, is that living in constant chaos makes me feel unsafe. I have not one place – at home OR at work – that I can get a deep breath. Ironically the only place that is “normal” right now is my truck….and being in it as much as I have been lately is very not normal.

At work the pressure is unbearable. My own relentless self expectation to not let anyone down who is counting on me on top of what’s flowing downstream because of trying to get an entire office moved left me in my office crying today. When I come home there is something that needs my attention or to be put away every where I turn. Sheer exhaustion means I break, drop, or misplace almost everything I touch. Never mind accuracy at what I’m attempting to process at the office. Tim had to go tonight to work on the old house so it will be ready to be put on the market. In my efforts to get SOMETHING productive done I managed to dent the drywall and break one of my favorite lamps in the space of 30 minutes.

My brain feels like what is left of one of my favorite lamps.

Tim keeps telling me to relax. Trying to explain to him that my mind won’t LET me relax when everywhere I look there is something that needs to be done is a concept that doesn’t register with most people. I know, logically, that moving is probably one of the most stressful things we do as an adult. I have moments where I can catch a glimpse of what life will be like if we ever get to the other side of this mountain. But lack of sleep and being in a constant state of chaos and overwhelmed is robbing some of the joy that I think I should be getting from this. I come across as angry when I know I’m not. It seems to be the only emotion that is coming out with any regularity.

Tim says he can fix the dent in the drywall. And I have another lamp. And work will always just be work. Just wish I could relax, get some more sleep, learn how to leave the piles at work and at home without the doomsday feeling….and most definitely I am never moving again. Ever.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Anxiety Sucks

So for whatever reason I’ve never been one of those types of people who do things the easy way. Whether through luck of dealing with the *stuff* life dishes out or just being late out of the starting gate on major decisions I tend to have an avalanche of changes all at the same time. For an anxiety sufferer that it gets worse with age? FML.

I am writing this from about 30k feet somewhere between DFW and Seattle on our way to the Alaska trip we’ve had in the works with the hubster and my MIL’s for almost a year. I am trying to remember a time I had such a struggle even getting OUT the door for a trip. Between Hope’s diagnosis, the house buying process going on at home, being on the cusp of the fall rush at work, scheduling moving personally (and oh yah professionally come October), and a full scale change of my mental health meds? This girl is on some shaky ground. Sobbing as I left the house today….gently pushing Hope back in the house as she tried to follow me out like she has been doing in her cling on phase here lately….there was a moment when Tim looked at me and said “honey if you want to stay home it really is ok”. And a second moment where I really truly almost did just that. Not sure even he realizes how close I came to stepping back through that door.

But I am blessed with a daughter who loves my fur kids as much as I do. A bestie in that same group. Another bestie who is a rock star realtor giving everyone what for on the purchase of our house. Family who is coming up late next week to take a shift with the dogs. A hubby who put cameras up in the house so I can get an eyeball full of the babies whenever I need (which ironically is the ONLY thing that doesn’t work on this plane’s WIFI). Remote access to the office so I can stay caught up and not add being behind to it all. Even in my worst anxiety attack when I remember to breathe I know I am blessed. But dang it it takes a hot minute sometimes. When did anxiety become part of our culture and everyday life for so many of us? Is it the unrelenting pressure to always be, perform, do? Anyone got any non-pharmaceutical tips and tricks for kicking that beast to the curb permanently?

I’m blessed with a great counselor who always has plenty to help me. My biggest issue is IN the moment, like when I was walking out the door looking in Hope’s sad eyes today, none of them are larger than the fear, doubt, and paralyzing anxiety. I described it to someone today like standing on the edge of a cliff. On one hand I’m looking over my shoulder afraid I’m gonna miss something at home if I go. On the other I’m looking at the jump afraid something bad is gonna happen if I don’t go. I get caught up in the who I’m gonna hurt or what “damage” I’m gonna cause…and my “gut” I have relied on instinctively for so many years? That stupid thing fled the building about four years ago. And the real biotch of it all is that if I’m not careful I will miss something this week while we’re off doing something I normally love…and seeing something through my husband’s eyes that lights his fire the way the Caribbean does mine.

It all just sucks. There are no easy answers and no “quick” fixes. Only solution is to strap on the iron underpants and ride it out. When the year is done and everything levels out I know we’ll be hella proud of the things we decided on as a couple and the progress we made. We’re headed towards small(er) town life that has always made me happy. But we have a long fourth quarter in front of us….

Blessings y’all – Amy

Fearful and Fretful

Can you remember a single “ah ha” moment when you realized that life was happening to you instead of you being in control of your future? I haven’t had a lot of those but there are times God takes out a billboard in my face to make sure I don’t miss it.

All around me people I love are struggling. Some with the pain of recent loss of loved ones. Family with new challenges that are unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Others still facing the same old cycle of anxiety and depression kicking their butt. It is my habit to take on these emotions and let them guide me to a place that isn’t healthy for me while I attempt to make sure people I love and hold dear are “ok”.

I was programmed from a very very early age that my role was to take care of others. As I look back on the last couple of weeks through the filter of seeing myself in others’ eyes I have realized that I’ve mistaken fear for selflessness. It’s been EASIER to live a life taking care of others than it has been to push myself out of my comfort zone. It’s been EASIER to base my decisions on where I presume I am most needed instead of what is best for me.

My counselor says F.E.A.R. means “False Evidence Appearing Real”. How easy it is to convince myself I “have” to do something because I’m needed, the only person who can do it, blah blah blah. The evidence is that those around me would get by without my help. Perhaps even stand stronger if I’d stop trying to do it for them. How easy it is to let fear allow me to put what I need or know will make me happy on the back burner so someone I care about can be.

Tim and I are have some major life decisions in front of us. I’m paralyzed with fear over them. Dumbfounded by how much the childhood mantra I live with is playing in my head – you don’t deserve that, you aren’t good enough for that, you can’t do that. It’s cast a giant light over my life as a whole (maybe this is a mid-life crisis?) and I don’t like what I see. Fear has guided too many of my decisions and kept me in the survivor role instead of the drivers seat. I so badly want to change that….

Anyway, I’m rambling. The message here is focus on life and not the fear. The fear will always be there – how much control I give the fear and the fretting is only determined by me. It is such a hard habit to break…but I am determined. Mostly. If my body would cooperate that would be fabulous – panic attacks that leave me on the bathroom floor aren’t so fun.

What decisions in your life have you looked back and realized were only fear based?

Blessings Y’all – Amy

Real Effects of Stress

Ever had your mind spin so much when you lay down at night that, despite complete exhaustion, sleep eludes you? How about a jaw ache from clenching your teeth subconsciously for days on end? Dry skin, thyroid completely blown out of whack, digestion a joke, tension headaches, and a masseuse unable to relax the knots in your neck, lower back, and calves? How about massive weight gain despite very little of what you eat sticking with you? Tears that flow without warning and the inability to make decisions that previously you wouldn’t have even had to think about?

I wouldn’t say I am under much more stress than I ever have been in various times in my career but something about getting older (or maybe living with someone who points out what’s broken) is giving me fits. When I started to resent the effort it took to prepare to travel and recover from travel we knew we had an issue to address. We’ve been meeting with different doctors now for a few weeks and have some plans in place but at the moment my body is still being uncooperative.

For the first time in a long time this last week I napped. More than once. I had a couple of nights where I actually achieved 6-7 hours of sleep (my average is 3-5). My jaw stopped aching and I was able to say “I want to do that” not “we can do whatever you/they want”. As we got closer to returning to land the restless broken sleep returned and the jaw ache returned. So my options are to move out onto a body of water (!) or figure out how to better process and handle stress.

Seeing a break in the physical symptoms of stress has made them so much larger than they have been in the past to me. As a survivor, both from a birth defect that left me in and out of hospitals my entire life, to an abusive childhood, to being a widow at a too young age I barely recognize anymore what my brain does to be body. It’s just part of life.

Apparently…that is wrong thinking. I have four great doctors in my corner now that are determined we will turn this ship around. Tests show I have Hashimoto’s and my thyroid is not getting enough medicine (which makes sense when you have a stomachache 5 mornings out of 7). Armed with a supportive husband wiling to try anything – including sleeping with music on and a diffuser going – to help me sleep we’re working on sleep hygiene. TV being off and phones put down a few hours before bed. Taking a sleep apnea test next week to make sure I’m getting enough air. And as much as I love reading I have to switch to a) doing it with a real book not a screen at night and b) not doing it while I eat.

We are going to have to do an elimination diet to figure out what else besides gluten has my stomach so PO’d since the gastro dr ruled out anything other than what we already know I have. That will be harder on my husband than me because it involves lot more restrictions than he already endures with his diabetes. Did I mention he hates veggies? Together we’ve decided to focus on sleep first then add this next layer.

Both Tim and I have adapted the “whatever it takes” mentality. We are less than a decade from retirement (we hope) and for me to enjoy the post working years I have to be healthy. I have to learn to prioritize a work life balance. To take ten minutes in the morning to wash my face or pack a healthy meal for lunch. To take moments during the day to practice the meditation exercises both the doctor and my counselor have given me. To silence the constant barrage in my head of did I do enough, work hard enough, or am I enough? To find the ability to say “NO”.

I suspect it also means a ramp up on my writing as I find it very therapeutic. But I am going to maintain my “when I feel called to write” mentality instead of my “have to” list. I have been promised that with sleep will come energy and mental clarity. With energy will come exercise and enthusiasm for my garden, my home, and my cooking again.

If you have any yoga or meditations apps/programs you recommend send them my way. And all the prayers you can spare.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Focus on the Fruit

It’s no struggle to those in my inner circle that life is pretty much kicking my behind right now. Work is the toughest it’s been in my 12 years of working there. I leave frustrated, angry, and exhausted more days than not. Sleep is elusive (it’s 3 am right now) and there is something going on with my health that they haven’t quite figured out yet. If it wasn’t for Tim, my kids, my dogs, and my friends I’m not sure I’d be sane. Tim is quite literally my refuge each and every day – Tuesday I got out of the truck and walked straight into his arms crying. Those kinds of days can wear you down like nothing else.

Every now and then I get an urge to turn on a sermon and it gets stronger until I listen to it. Tuesday night there was no ignoring it. I don’t search for a specific one – I cue up the church I follow and hit play on whatever shows up first. As always, it was a message that I guess God knew I needed. It’s happened before but it never fails to amaze me.

The sermon was entitled “Don’t Tap Out, Tap In”. I’ve listened to it twice and have gotten something different out of it each time. The main thing being that in wrestling “tapping out” means “ok, I’ve had enough, let me up”. In life, as it wears us down we are inclined to tap out. Throw up our hands and say “I’ve had enough of _______(insert an area of life that is wearing you down)”. Being honest – that has been on my mind a lot lately in regards to work. Have I had enough? Is the stress on my body slowly killing me and taking me too early from my family? Am I happy? Am I fulfilled? Am I letting it take too much of my spirit?

Heavy questions. The pastor goes on to say that in life we have four things….fight, fire, a fence, and the future. The Devil is a quiet serpent that sneaks into those areas and moves us away from God and away from the life He has planned for us.

I live my life in a fight. Fighting to be good enough, fighting to do everything for everyone, fighting to protect my bosses bottom line due to a loyalty that runs deep, fighting to keep wayward employees on path and in processes that have been proven to work, fighting to not disappoint anyone….the list is long. That fight, and the anger it produces, keeps me from focusing on the fruit in my life. God knows how much more fruit I have in my life right now that I have had in years. I have a man that loves me, I have a home I love, I have children who are grown and make me proud every day, I have a new family that supports me in every way, and I have the ability to travel and to see the world…THAT list is long too.

But most days? What I talk about, what consumes me, is the fight. How I didn’t get enough done. How I failed to enforce processes that protect the company. How someone else’s mediocrity created more work for me and drove me crazy in the process. What I hear in my head over and over is I didn’t fight hard enough and thus I failed. I think the reason this sermon pulled me up so short is finally realizing that. Why am I allowing anything to steal my joy? Even a job I’d tell you on my worst days that I still love.

Enter the fence we all have. Otherwise known as boundaries depending on who is speaking. What I have to do now that I have had this realization is erect a fence. A TALL electric and barbed wire lined fence. Turn my eyes to the future and what I want from it and use that to put bull dogs along the fence and end the fight.

Here’s the hard part. Can I do that? Can I change course on 45 years of being a people pleasing perfectionist? I can’t help but think if God wanted me to receive this message and have these realizations that there is hope that I can. I know it’ll take a lot of work. It will take mentally slapping myself over and over again until I get it. It will take probably disappointing people who count on me but hoping they understand in the long run I’m better healthy than I ever could be as I am now. It’ll take prayer and a lot of faith in God’s plans for me.

If you know me, if you are close to me, don’t hesitate to tell me when the fight consumes me that I need to focus on my fruit. Kick my butt if you have to. It’ll take my village to change these habits but I need to change them. I can’t keep on as I am. Humans need sleep and food to be healthy and happy.

Blessings y’all – Amy

Over A Cliff

It’s no secret I’ve been in deep period of pain and self discovery the last couple of years. Long overdue grieving for the loss of my grandpa and my husband. Staring down the question of “who am I” when not defined by titles like mother or wife. I am damn proud of how far I’ve come. I haven’t done it alone and I know that. This very outlet had been part of the journey.

Lately I’ve been restless. Feeling disconnected from my faith. Questioning the growth. Losing my identity as an independent a bit as I’ve become part of an “us” again (def no regrets there!). I’ve recently begun listening to an audio book that has provoked some deep thinking.

I had an opportunity this weekend to share some of the feelings bubbling up with someone I trust implicitly with my thoughts. Between those conversations, my book, and what I believe is answered prayer I finally think I’m understanding where the restless is coming from.

I’ve reached a point in self discovery I could choose to be satisfied. OR this cliff I am standing on….the one that I can’t see ground below because it’s dark…I could choose to go over it and dig deeper. To return to the faith the distractions of life are pulling me from and hear what God was guiding me towards. I’ve done a lot of work. But I’ve also just stuck some of the feelings that are too painful in a box and put them on a shelf – compartmentalizing as the counselor calls it – and hoping to forget about them.

I kid you not….as I am writing this my bible app sent me this verse. Does it get any clearer than that?

It’s time to go over the cliff. To truly forgive those who have caused me pain and to forgive myself when I haven’t been the person I wanted to be. Yesterday is past and can only continue to hurt you if you can’t let go of it. It’s time to open the box, sort the feelings, and finish the journey. It’s time to love myself enough to finish the healing.

For those who have held my hand this far – I love you. I wouldn’t be on this planet today without you.

Choose you. Choose to believe that if you go over the cliff God will catch you.

Blessings y’all – Amy

All or Nothing

My counselor says that I am bad at seeing life as all or nothing. At LIVING life as all or nothing. Examples. Life is all good or it’s in shambles. I have to be perfect at my diet, exercise, work, etc or I am a failure. I have to be the best at how I do everything or I am letting down those closest to me. I have to love the best and do everything for everyone no matter what the effect on me.

Two years of counseling later and I still struggle with it. But have learned the signs of the rabbit hole enough to *sometimes* prevent myself from falling down it. Or at least enough to prevent myself from exhausting myself trying to be everything to everyone and putting my own needs last.

Here’s is the thing about all or nothing. That’s the same as black or white. But! Life is shades of gray. It’s messy and smudgy and requires a tree to bend in the wind lest it break.

It’s being patient when you’ve dieted good all week but eat a plate of Mexican food on Friday night. Diet isn’t over – you just had a treat. It’s getting back on the exercise plan after a week of coming straight home from work and watching TV and having popcorn for dinner because work is insane. It’s forgiving those closest to you for being inconsiderate and hateful instead of compassionate and kind. It’s giving someone the benefit of the doubt who you have only seen at their worst.

Living at extremes isn’t a healthy place for me. Living day in and day out terrified of my world changing caused me to hold on too tight. Finding balance, finding the gray, is still a daily challenge. Keeping a brain that is used to handling the worst life has to offer from going first to the dark place and never thinking of a positive alternative is hard as hell.

But learning that you are never too old to change? Definitely worth it.

“Great things happen to those who don’t stop believing, trying, learning, and being grateful.”

Never stop learning y’all. Never stop believing in yourself. In humanity. In the power to change yourself and that better things are on the horizon.

Blessings y’all – Amy