Taking Out the Generational Trash

Who will hold your hand when things get messy?

Hi friend,

This week, something different. If this is all TL;DR skip to the bottom for your journaling prompts. I won’t be offended. But if you’re in for a tale, sit back, relax, and pop back a Xanax.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been on the ice luge to generational trauma hell. Not a fun vodka shot ice luge, but a slick, cold, no-mercy ice luge.

Long story long: My aunt, whom I was estranged from, passed away under sudden, tragic, mysterious, and pretty f*cking weird circumstances. Not only was I estranged from my aunt, but so too were my mom (who I am also estranged from) and my sister (who I am not estranged from). Keeping up?

I suppose I can say now that in my book, Buy Yourself the F*cking Lilies, when I describe a “family friend” (page 9) who stole the journal I was keeping at the age of twelve and entered it into my parents’ divorce proceedings as evidence that I exaggerated and was a liar—it was my aunt. And that’s why we were estranged. My aunt’s husband deals with extreme and sad mental health issues. My dad was mad at me for wanting to help my aunt because he hated her. So, my sister and I, the healthiest people in our family of origin, were once again thrown into the roles of adult caretakers for our family. None of this, however, was the worst part for me.

The worst part for me was how isolated and ashamed I felt about the whole thing.

I remember sitting in my car this week after hearing the news, banging on my steering wheel, sweating balls because I don’t know how to use the A/C (why are cars so complicated? why are you a computer?! just be a car!), using a roll of toilet paper I just happened to have (don’t ask) to wipe the snot from my nose, hearing this story in my head: “Once again, my f*cked up family has pulled me into some drama that never needed to be. I’M TRAPPED! Why are all these adults so dysfunctional? What can account for how much drama they have in their lives, and why am I left holding the garbage bag of their problems? IT STINKS! God, this hurts in every cell in my body.”

But just as I was feeling truly lost, my earth-goddess friend

Dr. Jennifer Freed

called and asked for the complete story. Not just a flattering sliver where I was some kind of hero or victim but the whole messy truth.

I told her. Every terrible detail. The cancer (that weirdly had nothing to do with dying), the Alzheimer’s, the insurance nightmare, the hospital f*ck ups, the fact that my aunt suffered—really suffered—through her death, and my own ambivalence about being estranged. Every wart-gross-ugh-don’t-air-dirty-laundry, shameful detail. And do you know what she said? “This is bad bad bad. You’ve been on the ice luge to generational trauma hell. Of course, you feel awful.”

“This is bad bad bad. You’ve been on the ice luge to generational trauma hell. Of course, you feel awful.”

I cried with RELIEF. Just to hear someone else validate that I wasn’t crazy, that any “normal” adult would be seriously messed up by this series of events. “All you need is a friend to take out the trash with you,” she continued. And she was exactly right. I didn’t need advice. I didn’t need stories about other people’s families or opinions on how I should or shouldn’t feel. I just needed a friend who would hold my hand as I took out the generational trash and made different choices than the rest of my family. Choices like: show up because you can. Do your best for another human. Draw boundaries (of course) but also try to act in a way that will make you proud. Give the love you never received because that’s who you have decided to be.

holding hands, if even so lightly

Just because I was a sad exhausted mess did not mean I had thrown away all the progress I had made in my life. It just meant I was human. And a healthy human at that who could recognize how off the rails the entire situation was.

And so this week, first off: thank you for letting me write to you. I wasn’t writing about this because I didn’t want to be judged. Not by my family or friends and most of all - not by you. I didn’t want you to say, “She’s a self-help author, but her life is still f*cked? Gross. Unsubscribe.” It’s why I also haven’t been on Instagram because it felt so fake to post a photo with a funny caption while all of this was going on.

But I am posting this now because I am sure there are other people out there who just need someone to hold their damn hand while they take out the trash. I am positive that there are people with far more f*cked-up situations, less f*cked up situations, ALL of the possible iterations of situations who feel terrible and alone inside, AND I KNOW FOR A FACT—YOU ARE NOT ALONE. AND, if you suffer, you suffer. You do not need to justify it to anyone at all. As my friend and role model, the wise author Lori Gottlieb writes in one of my favorite books of all time Maybe Your Should Talk to Someone, “There’s no hierarchy of pain. Suffering shouldn’t be ranked, because pain is not a contest.” There is no contest here, my friend. However you got to this place, this pace is real.

I’m here. I see you. I can hold your hand as you walk to the curb to throw out the mess of a $15.00, glass jar of kimchi that exploded on your kitchen floor before you could ever sample your fermented treat (because that also happened this week and I’m still annoyed). I’m here, and I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. It’s not fair; it’s not right; it doesn’t make sense that you’ve walked in the dark for so long. I also want to remind you that you won’t always walk in the dark—but really, f*ck that—that’s a thought for another day. Today, it’s okay if all you do is take out the trash. Or even put things in a trash bag and think about taking out the trash. And maybe watch an episode of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills because you just got a subscription to Peacock. I think those activities alone would make you win at life.

And so, what about journal prompts? This week, some questions I am asking myself in real time:

Journal Prompts to Dig Deep

Friendship 

• Who is the person in your life who you can talk to, who won’t judge, who won’t offer advice but will hold your hand and descend into darkness? Describe your relationship and a time they offered you their attention and it felt good.

• If you don’t have that friend, is there an acquaintance you can make into a better friend?

• If you don’t have that friend, take an honest accounting: have you pushed others away? What do you gain by that? Do new choices need to be made? No need to judge yourself but is it time for something different?

• If your friends have not been particularly supportive but DO LOVE YOU, think about the times they have shown up for you. Can you understand, why in their context, they might just not be the person to confide in without making them bad or wrong? Just because a friend can’t comfort you in ALL situations doesn’t make them “bad.”

• One of my bff’s LoPo always says, “Know your friends.” Meaning: know their limits, know their capabilities, and maybe don’t go to them with the things you know they can’t handle. What do you think about this way of framing friendship? There’s no right or wrong answer :)

• Is there someone in your life you could show up for right now? The best way to make a friend who shows up is to be a friend who shows up.

Gratitude

• Write a note to a friend who has really shown up for you in the past, and express the exact impact they have had on you. Send the f*cking note because GOOD GOD do people need to know they are appreciated. 

• EX: Fisch, when you followed up almost every other day just to see how I was doing, I felt so seen and cared about. Like I couldn’t get lost because you would always look for me. 

• EX: Jennifer, when you let me be messy and just called it like it was, “this is bad bad bad,” and didn’t try to cheer me up or look for a silver lining… I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders. You reminded me that I am allowed to be exhausted and fall apart. I’ll make meaning of this - later.

• EX: LoPo, thank you for making me laugh and offering me a little distraction in the form of Harry Hamlin. That was the exact smile I needed.

Luck 

• How much control do you think we have over our lives?

• How much do you think luck factors in?

• Is there a way to make your life more lucky?

Letting It All Go

• Describe a situation that is truly hard on you.

• What do you need to grieve or let go of?

• How can you release the burden? Is there a ceremony you can create for yourself?

Grace

• What would giving yourself grace in this moment look like?

• What permissions would you give yourself?

• What would you let go of?

When I tell you, “I love you.” I worry it comes off as cheesy. You don’t “know me” after all. And yet, I know you. I know your humanity. I know your soul. I know what it feels like to suffer and feel alone. I also know that you and I are made of the same stardust and so you are all mixed up with me, and my sister, and my aunt, and every person who has ever lived for all of time. And because I have learned to love myself I have learned to learn you. And so, from the deepest, truest, part of me I can say full throatily and proudly…

I love you

These emojis prove it: 💖💖💖,

T$

Comments? Questions? Have I jumped the shark? I’m open to any discussion that is to be had! Meet me in the comments.