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Calm Sea


I'm gonna get to know you, so here's me...

I grew up in Little Rock, AR.  I did all the things you are "supposed to" do in the South to "fit in"... dance, piano, varsity cheerleading, date the captain of the football team, please and thank yous, sorority... 

I got a swift kick in the pants and the introduction to the "world beyond you, Carrie," when I watched my friend 

battle cancer and die at 19 years old.  I had never had anyone I know that died and had never experienced sitting with someone in their pain and feeling so helpless until then.  Suddenly the world didn't make sense anymore, things didn't fit in a picture perfect frame, my sense of faith was rocked, and I hurt...

College was a dichotomy- I still did the Southern girl thing while trying to find how that fit into my interest in art, humanities, mental health, psychology, the marginalized... I couldn't figure out how to mesh the world I knew the the pull towards becoming more grounded and open.

My experiences after that, like many in their 20s and 30s, fueled my core.  I loved and lost and loved again.  I worked with teens who had been abused and neglected and struggled with depression and self harm and suicide attempts.  I stayed up late talking to new friends who had different backgrounds and beliefs and cultures.  I learned and listened and shared and danced, and drank, and did too much and not enough.  For 12 years I sat at bedsides of kids with cancer- helping them and their families navigate living and dying with an illness that felt so so big. I complications with a pregnancy that left both myself and my son facing our mortality at different times.  I had an ectopic pregnancy and raised a preemie.  I sat at bedside once again, watching breaths from a ventilator and trying to figure out how I would do this mothering thing.  I did too much and not enough.  I've had a beautiful marriage that also had many a times when my bags were packed and we could barely hold on.  I've had depression, and anxiety, and addiction, and pain and joy and love and loss in my own family.  I've done too much and not enough.  

I'm now in my 40s and going to be an empty-nester soon.  I work with adults with cancer outside of my practice who have pain and are trying to live while the probability of death is near.  I continue to learn, recently adding EMDR my my therapy tool box and doing more and more walking the walk by adding better self care to my own life.  I live with my husband and son and 2 goldendoodles who I love to hike and camp and lay on the couch and cuddle with.  I love photography and capturing the humanness of people.  I have a tribe of friends made up of every color, religion, sexual preference, and culture.  I have "soul nights" where I sit at my 8 foot farmhouse table with friends, barefeet and my out of control hair in a bun- eating and laughing and crying and just being real and raw.

I'm human.  I do too much sometimes and not enough.  I am skilled at sitting in the uncomfortable with people, hearing what you say and what you don't have to, and walking with you as you move towards having way more good days than bad days.

About : About Me
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