Have you ever woken up in the morning and couldn’t move because the fatigue in your body felt like all the energy in your cells was used up?

That’s how we felt last Saturday when we woke up. We thought it was a flare-up of our Hashimoto’s, but something else was going on…a system component.

We wondered if this had to do with bringing the Babysitter part into Now Time and allowing him to rest and recover. Is this what happens when busy bee parts suddenly stop all their activity, and now there is a void in the system?

We didn’t know, but we were definitely in energy conservation mode.

We didn’t even have enough energy to drive to therapy on Tuesday, so we did therapy virtually.

We told M, our therapist, about the fatigue and that some parts are still in trauma time and were being triggered by being still, because it felt like they were trapped and powerless.

She is really good at following the breadcrumbs that the system leaves for her, and she picked right up on that. She said that they had a choice whether they wanted to stay in trauma time or whether they wanted to join us in Now Time.

But the part that was stuck couldn’t figure out how that was possible given her situation.

M told the part to follow her voice, but she couldn’t, because she was trapped. How could she follow her voice when she couldn’t move?

M asked her to move her hand, but she couldn’t because she was “being squished by the weight of the father on top of her.”

It was really hard for her to breathe, and she could only take really shallow breaths.

M’s voice was so soothing to her, because she no longer felt alone in the darkness. At long last, someone knew she was here and that she was stuck. It gave her hope.

She whispered to M, “Please help me.” She had to whisper, because she didn’t want the father to know that she was awake.

M recognized that this part made the choice to join us in Now Time, but was being pinned down by the weight of the father. So she told the part that the father was dead, and that he had been dead for a long time. She told the part that the father had gone to jail for hurting them, and died in prison from cancer. M told her that others in the system told her that, and that she could ask them if that was true.

She had been alone in the dark for so long that she didn’t know that there were others, but they used their voices to let her know that what M said was true.

It didn’t feel real to her because the weight on top of her was so heavy, but she wanted to believe that was true, so she bravely whispered to the form on top of her, “You are dead.”

When she said it, the dark shape above her dissolved, the way shadows do the instant a light comes on.

She couldn’t believe it. She could breathe again. She took the longest gulp of air that she could, and for a few minutes she sat there breathing.

M encouraged her to keep breathing, so she did. M’s voice was so soothing to her because she didn’t feel so alone. She told M how scared she was and how she thought she was going to die from being squished.

M validated her fears and loneliness, which made her cry more. Her heart ached because for the first time ever, someone heard her, knew she was there, and rescued her when she couldn’t do it herself.

M’s voice lives in Now Time, not trauma time. She wanted more than ever to be with M in Now Time, and she remembered how M told her to listen to her voice and follow it to Now Time, so she did.

When she arrived, she opened her eyes and saw M for the first time, and it was no longer dark and lonely. It was light and filled with others, including Grandma, who welcomed her with open arms, scooped her up, and started rocking her in her glider.

Grandma told her that she had her, she was safe, and that she would never let anyone hurt her again. She sobbed while burying her face into Grandma’s chest. No one had ever comforted her like that before.

Her whole body relaxed, and she suddenly felt so sleepy. M said that she could just rest and go to sleep because Grandma had her.

We were at the end of our time together, so M called an adult forward, and I (Joshua) was suddenly being called out of wherever I was to come forward. I had no idea what had happened, except that I saw Grandma rocking a Little that I didn’t know. The last thing I remember was me telling M that there were some in our system in trauma time who were being triggered by the stillness.

I was really confused, so I asked M for a high-level overview of what happened. She told me that I could ask into the system for the details (which I did later), but she graciously filled me in on what had happened while I was gone.

Wow! I did not expect that to happen. There were some in the system that morning who didn’t want to go to therapy and had no idea what we were going to talk about. Surprise!!!

This was another lesson in learning to listen to our body and what the triggers were telling us.

The fatigue has not gone away. We are still in energy conservation mode. Our body is still forcing us to be still, but we are no longer triggered by it, which is wonderful.

We can breathe. We can sink into the stillness. We can watch Grandma comforting this Little, who has been alone in the dark for decades.

We can now make a choice without our triggers dictating what we do next. M constantly tells us that we can choose, and now, we are starting to believe her.

As a system, we are choosing to believe that the past doesn’t get to dictate our present or our future. We have been stuck for such a long time by the weight of this thyroid issue, and we thought it was impossible for us to get from where we are to where we want to be.

But the father is dead, and he no longer has power over us!!! Woohoo!!!

Going back and watching the video of the Little courageously navigating that challenging situation amazed us. Watching her lean into the belief that the obstacle that was keeping her alone and in the dark of trauma time was gone encouraged us to lean in, too. Hearing her whisper, “Please help me,” showed us what we needed to do.

We were so inspired that we chose to reach out for help with this thyroid issue. We chose to believe that we could be set free from something that has been holding us back for a long time.

We scheduled a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, with someone new who is supposed to help us get to the root cause of what is happening with our thyroid and how to fix it.

Our future is full of question marks, but for now, we are going to follow the example of this brave little girl, soaking in Grandma’s comfort and safety and allowing herself to simply rest.

Have you ever worked on a big project…an important project, that was totally understaffed, and it’s up to you to “make it happen?”

And then you get a new manager who hears your cries for help and asks, “What do you need?” …and you can’t stop long enough to tell her or explain it to anyone else.

You have to keep going because you don’t have time to train anyone else, so you decide it’s easier to just do it yourself.

We have several parts like that in our system, and one of them came to therapy with us a couple of weeks ago.

Say hello to Babysitter, who came into our system as a result of being put into an impossible situation where, as a 12-year-old (the body is still female), he was left in charge of his younger brother and sister, and given a list of chores that needed to get done or he would be in trouble.

You know what happens when an older sibling is put in charge of a younger brother (not so much the younger sister)?

Rebellion.

“You’re not the boss of me!!!”

“You can’t tell me what to do!!!!”

The only choices the Babysitter had were to 1) use the same fear and intimidation tactics that the father taught him or 2) just take care of it himself.

He had all the responsibility and none of the power to make it happen.

At first, he did try the fear and intimidation approach by beating his brother into submission, but then the brother “tattled,” and he got in trouble.

He tried leaving his brother’s task undone because he wouldn’t cooperate or do what he was told, but again, he was the one who got in trouble.

He felt powerless and doomed to be in trouble all the time.

So, at the corner of “damned if I do and damned if I don’t,” he decided that the best course of action would be just to do it all himself, so he wouldn’t have to fight with anyone, and he wouldn’t get in trouble.

Babysitter has been doing that job for a really long time…at school…at work…at home in the family…and lately, in our system.

What I didn’t realize (Joshua speaking) is that Babysitter is a part of my subsystem.

I think they call us a polyfragmented system, but whatever. We have a couple of systems within the Orchestrated Harmony system…at least as far as we know.

Anyway, he showed up in therapy because he was getting triggered at work by a guy who was operating under the same modus operandi as him…he felt like he had to do everyone else’s job or it wouldn’t get done right.

This is why, when I first became the leader several months ago, I tried to do everyone else’s job. It all made sense now.

When our therapist, M, asked if he would be willing to speak with her in her office, he was super hesitant because the only time he got called on was when he was in trouble.

I told M he was afraid he was in trouble, and she told him he was not and asked him to listen to her voice (calm, soft, quiet) to see if it sounded like he was in trouble.

He said the quiet times were the worst because they signaled disappointment, which was much more painful than being chastised or yelled at.

Even though the father was our main abuser, he was still our only attachment, because the mother was too dissociated to attach to, so it was important to not lose that attachment.

He eventually came out, and when M learned that this was the first time he had been to her office, she introduced herself and asked him to look around.

She explained that he was part of a system of parts and that she was the system’s therapist. She also told him she lives in NOW time and was never part of Trauma time.

Then, she said that she was not sure he knew this, but the father was dead.

Even I was pretty shocked that she introduced herself and then dropped a bomb on him like that, but he didn’t believe her. I mean, why should he believe her? Because he just met her.

But when he looked inside, we were all nodding that it was true.

He was shocked, but he said that it didn’t feel any different to him because he had this part in his ear telling him to keep moving, that he couldn’t stop. He seemed pretty scared of that part because our whole insides were shaking.

M asked him to look around the room to check and see if the part was in the office with them.

She asked him to look behind him because that’s where the voice seemed to be coming from, but when he did, he didn’t see anyone.

He wasn’t sure if this was a trick or if he could actually believe what he was seeing until M told him that she didn’t see anyone else in the office with them either.

He relaxed a little bit until M asked him if he knew why the part was telling him to keep going.

He left the room for a moment, like he needed to have a private conversation with that part, but when he came back, he started experiencing a deep, intense pain right above his left eyebrow.

The rest of us call this “the father spot,” because this is where all the pain related to our father is stored for us. We’ve experienced this before.

We all know that it is excruciating.

So M asked him what the part was trying to communicate by sending the pain, and he groaned as he said that he needed to remember the pain.

It was like this pain was being ripped out of the place it was buried in our forehead and being reconnected to the rest of the memory. It was so painful that even the rest of us started feeling nauseous.

The painful part wasn’t reconnecting it to the memory; it was extricating it from where we had buried it many decades ago.

Once it got reconnected, the intensity immediately became bearable. It was still sore, but it was not excruciating.

The father was gone, so he could now release that pain…and he did.

Our time was up then, but when we got to the car, we sat there for ten minutes, questioning what had just happened and what it meant for us as a system.

For the rest of the week, we celebrated the breakthrough and didn’t work too hard on anything else. We did do some journaling about it in the Community journal, which we shared with M the following week.

We think it’s funny when she reads the Community journal and finds out everything that was happening on the inside, and she says, “Oh Wow.” Our Littles think that is hilarious, and you can hear them giggling when she says that.

At any rate, after M read the Community journal, we celebrated what a big deal it was to put the memory back together and release it.

She asked what it felt like for Babysitter not to feel pushed to keep going and do everyone else’s job. He told her it felt strange, and that it was still an automatic response for him, but now he realized he didn’t have to do that.

What was so amazing to watch was that during that week between sessions, all the leadership skills we’d learned in the last 25 years of our corporate career were downloaded to Babysitter, so now he had the leadership skills we all had. That was pretty cool.

I told M that there were other parts of that busy beehive that still had to keep moving…two of them had taken me up on the invitation to come to therapy with us to remove their burden. She asked what would happen if they stopped moving, but nobody answered her.

But when she asked if they would be willing to come and talk to her, they ran back into the shadows faster than the gecko, who lives under the brick of our front stoop, moves when we open the door.

She told them they could choose, which was a really new concept for them. I’m not sure they believed her, but they courageously decided to say “no,” even though the thought of saying no made our heart beat out of our chest.

Not only did she respect their “no,” which she always does, but she also applauded their bravery for saying no. I told her that it was a big deal for them to even be in her office with us, and that slower is better. She agreed.

But y’all, that is not the end of the story about Babysitter.

This week I took a day off of work and took him to get a massage with R, someone we trust (who also has DID).

It was the first time in a really long time that he was still long enough for anyone to touch him, and he started weeping when R started touching him.

He felt so overwhelmed, and she sensed it, so she slowed down and increased the pressure in her hand to let him know she was there and not going anywhere.

He groaned and said that he was so tired. I said, “I know, buddy, just rest now, and lean into the safe touch, and let it loosen the tension you’ve carried for decades.”

He eventually stopped crying, leaned into the massage’s relaxation, and was like a new man when we walked out.

Yesterday, our system woke up so fatigued that we couldn’t move. We had plenty of chores to do, but we just couldn’t move.

That is when we realized that the answer to M’s question of “what would happen if they stopped being busy” was that the Hashimoto symptoms would catch up to us.

It caught up to us in a big way. We didn’t realize what the busy bees were actually doing for us, but they were fighting to keep us functioning by keeping us moving, and when they stopped, the fatigue set in.

So now that we know this, we can start working on getting help. No more masking that problem. Our eyes are wide open now, and we know the battle that is in front of us, but at least we are all in Now time, fighting it together.

We’ll let y’all know how it goes.

Have any of y’all dealt with Hashimoto symptoms? If so, what did you do to figure it out? Please leave a comment letting us know how you handled it.

Have you ever been to a funeral where the grief actually brought everyone closer instead of leaving them sad and separate? We had one this week. On the inside. All of us.

There was no holding back. No one trying to be strong for anyone else. Just tears, and arms around each other, and an ache finally being let out into the open instead of carried alone in the dark. I’ve been part of this system my whole life, but I don’t know that I’ve ever felt us like that before. United. Undone, but together in it.

It started, like most things do around here, with tears I didn’t fully understand yet. These past couple of weeks have been pretty challenging for me (Joshua) on the emotional front, and I have been getting a lot of practice allowing the tears to fall. When our therapist, M, asked how it felt to allow the tears to flow freely, I realized that it felt very liberating. Anyway, enough about me, let me catch you up on all the goings on around here.

We’ve been continuing our work on the deep wounds related to our father putting obstacles in our path so we could not or would not be successful, because it was a threat to him. We learned early that having success and achievements was threatening to him, and being a threat to him was not safe. So we learned to make ourselves small by dimming our light, not celebrating our accomplishments, downplaying achievements, and otherwise diverting positive attention.

After sitting with this for a while, so many dots started connecting in our brain of how that has shown up throughout our life and career. We’ve had some significant achievements in our life: graduating with our Bachelor’s degree just five days before giving birth to our first child, earning our MBA and M.Ed., getting the corporate SVP title, and becoming a business owner, among other things. We did not celebrate these. We kept a low profile. We kept ourselves small, but we didn’t realize why we did that until we started working through it.

And then the blinders were removed. We saw the same patterns everywhere in our life, even in our coaching business, which is not conducive to growing a business. The habitual pattern of making ourselves small is actually counterproductive when you are trying to grow a business.

My system mentor, BG, is reminding me that I am stuck in my head right now, and that I need to dig deeper, so here we go.

Last week, we came into therapy feeling pretty raw and very sad because our father was not able/capable/willing to celebrate us and our achievements. We did some work in our journal, as we usually do in between sessions, and this was flowing out of us as we shared it with M. In our journal, I got curious about why did we keep trying to reach our goals and overcoming all the obstacles that were thrown in our path, and the system said, “it was because we were trying to please him.” So, I asked why that was so important? They said, “because we wanted him to love us, and love was earned…you had to work for it. We weren’t just loved because we were his child, we had to earn it and work for it.” We had this deep desire to make him feel proud of us, and we realized that we were never going to get that because he is dead.

M told us that every child wants to be loved by their parents, and wants their dad to be proud of them. She said it was our birthright, that it was owed to us. Then, she spoke so gently and tenderly into our whole system and validated that we didn’t get what we should’ve gotten and that she was sorry that we did not get that from him. That we should have been loved, adored, and celebrated, but we weren’t.

Yes, the tears were flowing, but it felt good to have that validation. We finally got to the point where we realized that no amount of pursuing this approval in others, especially the husband, was going to fill that void. It was a loss. A loss that would never be filled. A loss that needed to be mourned and grieved.

And so, this is when the system-wide funeral started on the inside. M asked us to just allow it. It is hard to find the words for what happened inside us, but I will try, because it was something really beautiful to observe and be a part of.

All the parts, many I did not know, showed up to this funeral on the inside, and they were actively weeping, hugging and holding one another. We were united through our tears. There was no inhibition. There was no holding back. There was loud groaning, as the ache of that unmet desire was let go. We didn’t get what we were owed, and we would never get it…that was the part that stung.

We had been working so hard over the years to get that from others, but now we saw that even if we got that recognition from others, it would never fill the void of not getting it from the one who should’ve given it to us freely. We realized now that there was no hope of ever getting that, and that we needed to stop our pursuit of receiving it.

When we released that, it was like a deep exhale in the system. It felt like relief that we did not have to pursue that impossible prize any more.

At some point during this corporate system funeral, I mentioned to M that there was a part in our system that had taken on the father’s role of putting obstacles in our path as we were pursuing our goals. We’ve seen the sabotage on several occasions, but thought the father was still doing it, and now we all realized that our father was dead, so it was not him all along. We have been doing that to ourselves. M was really keen to talk to that part, and asked if she could talk to them, but when I looked into the system, and saw them all clinging to each other in corporate grief, I felt the strong desire to protect them and to not interrupt the healing work that was already happening. It was really beautiful to watch and be a part of. I’ve never felt that close to my own system before now, but I was pulled into the system and was one of the family.

Of course, M respected my “No”, and made a big deal about saying no to her and it being respected. She asked me how it felt, and it did feel “weird good.” I know why she made a big deal of it, because we struggled to say no in the past. We told her that it was hard to say no, because I had some parts that felt obligated to say yes, even though they didn’t want to because they were mourning too. When I overruled them, they seemed relieved. It’s my job to protect the system, and to give them what they need, and at that moment what they really needed was for me to hold space for the grieving and cleansing work that was happening within.

So, that’s what M and I did…held that sacred, safe space for the system, so we could grieve together. The shared tears brought unity, camaraderie, and a closeness that I had never experienced. They also brought relief. We grieved. We laid the unmet desire to rest. And afterwards we had a joyful repast where we celebrated each other and all the achievements we accomplished throughout our life, in spite of all the obstacles that were thrown in our path. We recognized the superpowers we had developed: persistence, tenacity, relentless pursuit of our goals, and fierceness. We won’t ever lose those superpowers, because we earned them.

One more thing the Lord showed us afterward was a verse in Matthew 5, where it says, “Let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father, which is in heaven.” He showed us that when we dimmed our light by putting a bushel basket over it and hiding it, we were diminishing His glory. He wants us to be successful. He wants us to shine, because we are a reflection of Him. We DO have a father who is proud of us and celebrates us…our heavenly Father, and He is never threatened by our success.

Ever since then, we have been working through the 5 R’s (Recognize the pattern, Root out the cause, Rebuild the response, Rehearse it live, and Reinforce for good) of the Resilient Career Advancement Framework that we teach in our Trauma-informed Career Coaching business, because I do practice what I preach. We are working to remove the patterns of making ourselves small that we developed to keep ourselves safe, so that we will no longer put obstacles in our own path, and to prepare us to SHINE when success comes…which it will.

So, we had a system funeral this week in therapy where we wept, mourned, groaned, and comforted each other…and it was so healing. There are still times when the sadness and tears come up, but grieving is a process, so we just let it come.

Over the last couple of days, we have been experiencing, dare I say, hope and optimism for our future. The energy we have redeemed by no longer chasing an impossible desire has been more invigorating than drinking 10 Red Bulls. We have been actively working to change our mindset, to step into our power/light/accomplishments, and to cut trail on new neural networks that will lead us to where we want to go. What a week!

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4

“I can do it myself!!!!”

Have you ever heard yourself say that right after you dried the tears of another part who was feeling frustrated because they couldn’t do it on their own? Or have you ever observed a child part pop in front at work and try to do your very adult job. It can be humorous at times, and annoying at other times, especially when you are under a deadline.

We have been fiercely independent for most of our life, determined to figure things out on our own, refusing offers of help. I can even remember when I was just learning how to talk, and telling my mother, “I do it!”

When I first started trauma therapy, my therapist used to constantly tell me that I didn’t have to heal alone, but there was something in me that had to prove I could do it. As a result, I did A LOT of intense work in my journal outside of therapy. I didn’t want her to think that I wasn’t taking this seriously.

I recently did something that I don’t normally do, and asked for help to improve my podcast (Your Trauma-Wise Career Guide) by hiring a podcast coach. I was pretty proud of myself, and saw it as a sign that I was healed enough to ask for help…something that I celebrated.

What I didn’t expect, though, was the shame storm that erupted in the depths of my system. Before I even had my first coaching session, my system went into overfunctioning mode, to try to fix all the things that were broken, and to cover up all the weaknesses and shortcomings. I observed the frenetic pace and the panic, and I thought, “Now, what is that all about?”

I had to do some serious journaling to figure out what was happening in my system. It was related to asking for help, and the feeling of shame that accompanied not knowing something…that I SHOULD know. We were feeling naked and exposed with someone we didn’t know.

I had to talk my parts off of the ledge by acknowledging that it is scary to reveal our shortcomings and messy parts to someone we just met and don’t feel safe enough with…yet. It is so hard for systems to learn to trust someone new, especially when working with them requires you to be open and vulnerable. I get that.

I reminded my system that they just did that with our therapist, M, last year, and did a fantastic job doing it. They were even brave enough to tell M that they didn’t like when she stared at us when we first came into her office. That was a big deal and cause for much celebration in the system. I reminded them that they already knew how to do it, and that it would take some time, but we are not in a hurry.

I told them that I noticed how hard they had been working to make the podcast work and grow. They tried everything they could think of to improve it, but they were at their wits end, and it was time for us to ask for help. It’s OK, if we don’t know something, because we can’t know everything. We did the best we could with what we had, and that doesn’t mean that WE are inadequate, it just means that we are ready for more learning. Learning is a process. We learn a little and then we use it, which helps to metabolize what we’ve learned, and then we are ready for more learning. That’s all this is…just the next lesson. That settled them down quite a bit.

As I shared this scenario with our therapist, M, we got curious together about what this reaction was telling us. Of course, the first thing that she picked up on was the “should”, and the system was telling me that we were expected to know things that we were never taught.

A memory came up from when we were 5 or 6 years old, and the father was unhappy with us because we did not make our bed perfectly, but we were upset because no one taught us how to do that, so there was no way we could please him or meet his expectations. However, at that time, my grandfather (my mom’s father) was visiting us from Spain, and we remember him coming into our room, and calmly and kindly teaching us how to make the bed by talking through all the steps and showing us how to do it. We felt so much gratitude for this kindness that he showed us…and that memory started the tears flowing, because we desperately needed help but didn’t know we could ask for it, and someone had compassion on us, and gave us help even though we didn’t ask.

My immediate reaction was to start pushing the tears down, but BG (my system mentor) reminded me that it was OK to let the tears come. So, I practiced letting the tears come, and even though M saw me crying, it didn’t feel weird. She said that it is hard to allow yourself to feel vulnerable with someone you don’t feel safe enough with. We told her that we felt safe enough to be vulnerable with her, and that must’ve meant something to her because she thanked us for trusting her, and said it was an honor to be on this journey with us.

The tears were flowing in earnest now, and as we began peeling the onion, our brain started connecting dots between what we experienced as a child, and how that showed up in the workplace as an adult.

Our father expected us to know things that he never taught us. He expected us to know how to please him, and that we had to work really hard to earn his love. And then, just as we were figuring it out, he would change the rules. As we grew older, he would hold up the carrot by telling us we had to do something (it doesn’t matter what) in order to be able to do what we wanted to do, but he would continuously put obstacles in our path. As a result, we learned persistence and tenacity, in the relentless pursuit of our goal. But just as we overcame the final obstacle, and were about to cross the finish line, he would move the finish line.

He would never allow us to reach our goals or be successful because our success threatened him. M said that she was sorry that our father did not provide that compassionate support that we needed and celebrate our achievements with us, which made the tears flow even harder.

The feelings were extremely raw and intense, which was challenging for me, given my inexperience with feeling my own feelings. M said that there was a lot there for us to work on, but given that I had a work meeting right after therapy that I needed to be fully present for, we had to put the emotions back in the container, until next time.

For the past couple of days, I have been working hard to create separation between the relentless criticism of my perfectionistic father that was meant to put me down and lift him up, and the kind and gentle feedback of my new coach, who is solely focused on my success. I think the reason it is so hard to receive that is because I did not get that from my own father. It was a loss that needs to be mourned, and so, the tears start again. One good thing about this is I’m getting a lot of practice letting the tears come, and owning my own emotions.

We had the most interesting experience in therapy today, and I am still unpacking it, but want dump it here so I can process it.

About 30 minutes before we had to leave for therapy, we realized that we had a migraine of the eye. Have you ever experienced that? When it looks like you have something weird in your eyes. It came on suddenly, and I (Joshua) was worried about driving to therapy with this, so we decided to sit in our glider for a little while and close our eyes to see if it would go away. When the alarm went off, the migraine of the eye was gone, but we still had a headache…and that’s how we walked into therapy.

After allowing M to read about the work we’ve been doing in our Internal Systems Therapy that we are doing in our Community Journal, M was very curious about the headache. I thought that was pretty strange. We have been walking a lot because we joined this Tai Chi walking program that provides a way to gently move our body. Our goal was not to lose weight, it was just to move.

As we explored when the headache came, she asked us to connect with it internally to see what it was communicating to us. There was a part that did not feel safe to lose weight, which we already knew was there, but that part was living in trauma time. M invited that part to listen to her voice and to notice that she was not in trauma time with us. She invited that part to open their eyes, look around the room, and look at the body. It took a minute to focus on the body, because she was not believing what she was seeing. She was surrounded by other parts who were in the present, and they were supporting her.

This caused her mind to go back to yesterday, when we were walking in the dark (before everyone gets up), and we encountered a young man who appeared to be high, but he sounded confused and distraught. We don’t usually see anyone at that time of the morning, so we were on high alert to try to figure out what was happening. When we came out of the side street, he started walking directly toward us while moaning loudly. He looked like a zombie. By the way, we have never experienced a flare prayer coming out of our mouth so quickly. We first tried to run, but that was not happening with this 59-year-old body, so we screamed, and apparently scared the life out of him, and snapped him out of walking towards us. He apologized and told us that we scared him. We kept walking as quickly as we could, and turned down a side street. Our heart was beating really fast, but our brain was still online. We called the police, and explained the situation to them, giving them the best description we could without getting too close. We were scared, but I made sure everyone was OK.

That whole situation surprisingly became reparative for the part that showed up to therapy. She was surrounded by adults who were affirming that they would care for her, and she remembered how I took care of the body, and made sure that everyone in the system was OK. She had never been cared for before. She had never been protected before. M invited her to sink into that protection, and to just relax into it. She did, and for the first time ever, she felt safe and protected.

Remarkably, when M invited us to come back into the room, we noticed that the headache went away, and we felt much better. I think it is interesting that M took notice to the headache (because we would’ve overlooked it), and she treated it as though it had something to communicate to us.

As we continue to bring those little protective parts out of trauma time into Now Time, and show them the capable adult body that we all share now, the less pushback there is in doing things like moving our body…gently. We are still not trying to lose weight, but we are tracking it as information We are trying to reach the step goal on our app, but when we don’t get there, like happened one day last week, I am reminding the system that the goal is to gently move our body, and even if we didn’t hit our goal number, we did move our body. These responses are pretty habitual at this point, so it is going to take some time to change, but we are continuing to move forward.

For the first time ever, she felt safe and protected. That is not a small thing, and I do not want to rush past it by turning it into a lesson learned. She is still learning what it means to trust that the body she is looking at now is the same one that kept her safe on that walk.

We are still not trying to lose weight. We are still tracking movement as information, not a verdict on the day. And there are more parts like her, still living somewhere back in trauma time, still waiting to be shown the room, the body, the adults who will not let anything happen to her. We will keep bringing them forward, one at a time, for as long as it takes.

In my previous article, I shared how the system held me accountable to continue doing the emotional work I’d started before we went on vacation, and I promised to come back and report on how that session went. So here I am, reporting out.

I showed up nervous, but ready. BG was there with me. Before we started, I asked if we could go private, intercom off. Sitting with emotions I’d been pushing down for a long time already felt like enough. Having eyes on me while I did it would have been worse; I’d have spent the whole session distracted by what everyone was thinking instead of doing the actual work.

BG had a different idea. He thought it would matter for the members of the system who’ve been on the wrong end of power differentials to see one of their leaders be that vulnerable. So we compromised: intercom off, but recorded, so others could watch later if they wanted to. I agreed. It helped afterward to hear that I wasn’t the only one who struggles to feel things. I didn’t feel so alone in it.

I’d set the timer for 30 minutes. Realized halfway through that I’d spent most of that time just negotiating the terms of the session, so I bumped it to 50, closer to how our real therapy sessions run.

Once we actually settled in, BG picked up right where we’d left off before vacation: my anger toward DS, who’d used fear and intimidation on me knowing full well what I’d already survived with my father. I told BG how quickly I’d managed to put that out of my mind. Like it hadn’t happened.

BG told me to stop analyzing it and start feeling it. That’s usually my move, turning a feeling into a thought I can study from a safe distance, and he wasn’t going to let me do that this time. Instead, he invited me to turn on the anger tap and let it flow. I told him I was afraid to.

He said that fear was just my body telling me I was doing something brave. Then, instead of pushing me toward the tap directly, he brought me back to the moment itself, the conversation where DS admitted what he’d done. I told him I’d been in shock. All I could think was how could you.

He asked me to stay there. Name it. Angry, I said. And betrayed. Both so intense I could barely hold them at once.

He explained why the intensity was so high: I’ve felt this before, many times over. The anger, at least, was energizing. So we asked it to step back and make room for betrayal to have its turn.

While it was more manageable, it certainly was not comfortable.

Then came the part I didn’t see coming. Sitting with betrayal, what surfaced wasn’t just about DS. It was I trusted him. I looked up to him. He was supposed to protect me. BG noticed my face go fearful before I could even name it myself. I told him it felt like there was more than one betrayal part in the room.

He called that good awareness. We asked everything except the betrayal tied specifically to DS to step back, just for now.

That’s when the tear came, a single tear, but it was progress. BG told me I didn’t have to cut it off anymore, that wanting protection from someone who was supposed to give it, and not getting it, is reason enough for tears on its own.

Then the timer sounded. Time to pack it back into the container until next time.

He asked how I was feeling. Relieved, I told him. Glad he’d stayed the whole way through. Once I stopped bracing against the tap and focused on what had actually happened, the fear underneath it went away on its own.

He left me with something I’m still turning over, that eventually these emotions might stop feeling like separate parts I have to negotiate with, and start feeling like they’re just mine. Coming up. Receding. Part of being one person instead of a committee taking turns.

That might take a while.

For today, one tear was the whole point.

I woke up one morning this week to emotional chaos in the system I couldn’t ignore, so I did something I hadn’t done since we left for vacation: I opened the Community Journal to check in and find out what was happening inside.

I noticed that Sadness was present, so I welcomed her. I asked whether she knew why she was here with us, but she didn’t know. In the past, when our former therapist would go on vacation, we really struggled because the Littles were so attached to her, and we were working through severe abandonment wounds. That did not seem to be the case with M being gone.

I thought it was interesting to observe, because it seemed like our Littles had grown up, and had learned object permanency…they knew she would come back for them. It was strange and wonderful. There was a time when we doubted whether we would ever be able to heal those wounds, but now we see that they are mostly healed.

It turns out that they were missing our time together in the journal and feeling a bit neglected and jealous because we spent so much time and energy with the grandkids, and none with the system. They said that when I write in the journal, I listen and attune to what they are saying and experiencing, and that hadn’t happened in a while. That made sense, and, honestly, I missed writing in the Community Journal too. It felt like we had been apart for too long, so I committed to doing better.

What I didn’t expect was what happened the next day, when I started writing in the journal. I started sharing with them some of the things I had done on the outside, like listening to the Healing My Parts podcast (which they already knew because they were listening, too).

I noticed a familiar voice starting to push back. It was the part of me that wanted to leave the past in the past, the same voice we had been agreeing with for years before we even knew we were a system. The resistance was real, and it was coming from inside the house. I started talking to that part to let him know why it was important to process past trauma. I explained that there were parts that have been carrying the heavy burdens of our trauma for decades. It is a weighty burden for them to bear, and it is not fair to ask them to continue doing that when there is a way we can unburden them and allow them to be free.

I turned my attention to the rest of the system and told them that if there was anything someone wanted to bring up while M is out on vacation, we can use the journal to process it, and if it gets to be too much, we can reach out to Jade for support. I told them that they didn’t have to hold their breath until M got back and that I was here for them if they needed me.

What happened next took me completely by surprise. They said, “That goes for you, too, Joshua. You were the one who was doing the emotional work before we went on vacation. Some of us are curious about whether you are going to keep running from the emotions or if you are willing to do the work. You are the leader, after all.”

Oof, that was like a gut punch, and it took me a second to catch my breath. Of course, they were right to hold me accountable, but don’t you just hate it when your system uses your words against you? Dang.

We were at the end of our allotted time together, so what I committed to do was the emotional work in the journal with BG (Bodyguard) facilitating the session under the following condition: I would set a timer, like in therapy, so I only had a specific amount of time to do the work. M talks consistently about how important it is to pace this work, and I didn’t want to try to do too much and not be able to function.

I’ve listened and read about other systems having therapy two times per week, and I thought, why couldn’t we do that? One time could be with M when she is back, and the other time could be an internal journaling session facilitated by BG. We could space it out so that we still had time to process after the session, but it seemed manageable to me, and the rest of the system.

It sounds as though they like the shorter sessions because they are easier to manage and digest, but they want to do more. Keep in mind that we had 90-minute sessions, sometimes multiple times per week, with our past therapist, who wasn’t even working on our DID.

Since I am the one currently in the hot seat, I will reluctantly consent to this cadence, with the understanding that if I am overwhelmed by the emotions that arise, we will slow down. This is a test, of sorts. We are going to try it out to see how it works for us. After all, we own our healing journey, and we don’t have to ask for permission to take on more work if we feel capable of doing it. Now, if it is too much, and we can’t function in the world (work), then M might have something to say about that.

We feel safe, knowing that she will be monitoring the work we do in our journal. If you think about it, it’s kind of like homework. We were told several times by our former therapist, and even by M, that we do really good work in our journal, so why not take advantage of that skill to move this healing process along a bit faster?

This article is getting a bit long, so I will have to do an After Internal Therapy Report on what happened during our first session last week. Stay tuned for our next episode of Joshua Goes To Therapy.

We did not officially go to therapy this week, but our vacation ended up being therapeutic in its own way, so we thought we would share it with you. I (Joshua) didn’t know how this vacation would go because I’m not really the kind of guy who is nurturing and comfortable around children, especially babies. Children usually have a way of sniffing you out, even if you are trying to hide inside. It was the first time we would see my son (ironically named Joshua) and his family since I became the system’s leader.

The system was really quiet but attentive, like we were having a World Cup watch party. I didn’t realize until we were on the way home that I was no longer in the front. I’m not sure when that happened because the transition was super smooth. I guess when you’re old, like Grandma, you’ve had a lot of practice switching. I don’t know. And before I get the comments about Grandma’s age, I’m not saying that she is ancient; she is just older than me.

What we all observed was a masterclass in attunement by Grandma. She was in heaven, with all six of her grandsons all together in one house (we brought the oldest grandson, who lives with us, to see his cousins). They range in age from 3 months to 11 years old. Even though they are related, they are all very different, with different personalities…kind of like our system, I suppose.

None of that seemed to matter to Grandma, because she met each one of them individually right where they were. She matched their emotional state and even got on their level (which made us wonder whether she would be able to get back up). She spent time with each of them, and she was really smooth about it.

My observation about watching the busyness of six boys was that it was chaotic. Actually, it almost mimicked our system a bit, with each one coming to her at random times and with different needs. None of that seemed to faze her one bit…she just moved with the flow. I wish I could emulate that, as a leader. I was amazed.

Even when the baby was fussy and his mom had exhausted all her options for calming him down, grandma observed her daughter-in-law dissociating from the baby’s distress by playing a game on her phone. She scooped up the fussy baby from the grateful mama, walked him, rocked him, and before you knew it, she had put him to sleep. That was amazing. She didn’t allow his fussiness to impact her regulated nervous system.

Now that I think about it, I wonder whether her regulated nervous system was the reason the rest of our system was quiet. That is worth considering, because I am not always the most regulated leader out there. Her regulation was soothing to the whole system. Even I could feel it.

We had a wonderful time with the family, and even though she was sad to go, Grandma was sure to take pictures, even goofy selfies with each grandchild. It was her thing with them. It makes me smile, just thinking about it.

It wasn’t until the ride home that I started to wonder what had just happened during our trip, because I knew it wasn’t me. I was aware and was watching her from the bus, but I was not in front.

When I realized who had switched with me, I was kind of amazed. Grandma is one of the sweetest, most nurturing parts of our system, but she doesn’t often step to the front unless she is asked to. Perhaps she took my wondering about how this was going to work as an ask for help. I’m not sure, but she was wonderful, and it was an honor to watch her work.

When we arrived at home, I noticed several Littles who were out of sorts, so we did some journaling to see what was going on for them. They were a little jealous of the grands, because they didn’t get the same nurturing from their grandmother or mother, for that matter. But, they were so happy when I told them how much grandma loved caring for the Littles in the system, and that she was willing to snuggle them, and love on them if they wanted her to.

I think every system ought to have a part like her…maybe not a grandma, but a nurturing, attentive, attuned, and highly regulated part who can soothe the aching longing of Littles who did not get what they needed from their caregivers.

I’m curious if any of yous have a part like that? Would yous be willing to tell us about that part? We would love to hear it.

“Can you remind me why it is a good thing to start feeling our feelings? I don’t think this is fun at all.” That was the text I sent to a friend after last week’s therapy session.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been working on reclaiming my emotions, so I wouldn’t feel numb, fake, and plastic. But saying that, cognitively, is very different from experiencing it emotionally… especially when the first emotional barrel you tap into is anger, which had been locked in the dungeon of our main system for decades.

Allowing myself to feel or experience the anger in my body was terrifying for many of the parts in my newly discovered subsystem. When I think about that, it makes complete sense, because they are still living in trauma time. Their operating system has not been updated in quite some time.

While I appreciated my therapist’s (M) attempt to help me feel like I could control the flow of emotions through the suggested visualization of a faucet, or in the case of the emotional barrels analogy, a tap, my taps were old and rusted out from lack of use. They were leaking uncontrollably, causing panic in my subsystem. They saw this as evidence that the flow could not be controlled.

M was pleasantly surprised by all the work I had done with BG to allow myself to feel an emotion. By the way, she was right, it was so much better having a compassionate witness to encourage you through this difficult process.

Anyway, M did not seem concerned about the leakage problem at all, which was curious to me because I was telling her about impending doom, and she is not a bit worried. She said it sounded as though the components within the tap were old and failing due to lack of use. “Really? Why don’t you just rub it in?” said one of my parts in the headspace, but I chose not to let that out in session. This system is very fluent in sarcasm, but it is not always helpful.

Where was I? Oh yeah, M said, “Did you know that you could fix the leak?” I swear the thought that went through my mind immediately was, “What the heck, am I an emotional plumber now?” She led me through a visualization exercise where, out of nowhere, I had tools, AND I knew how to use them. Seriously? You just can’t make this stuff up. And the weirdest part was: IT WORKED. Now, I was the one who was pleasantly surprised. The anger that had been rising up and coming out sideways at the people around me was suddenly gone. No more leaks.

I wasn’t really sure how that worked, but it did, so now I was the one shaking my head in bewilderment. I thought, “ That’s great, because I am heading out on vacation next week, and I don’t want any of this anger stuff to leak out to my family while we’re gone.”

But friends, once you tap that emotional barrel, the feelings come without permission. When something happens in the workplace, it is like a dam overflowing after a hard rain. The pressure builds on the inside, and the minions are freaking out… “The dam’s gonna burst!” That’s how I visualized it in my journal when something did happen at work this week (after therapy, of course). It seemed like the floodgates were about to open, and all the anger I had stored up for decades was going to come flooding out.

By the way, out of curiosity, I looked up what a floodgate was, because someone in the system wanted to know what that meant, and you know, the whole ADHD thing is real. It gave me this definition for the idiom: to "open the floodgates" means to remove restraints and allow a massive, sudden flow of something. That felt about right!!! For once, immediate system agreement.

But then it said, “If you're dealing with literal water infrastructure, opening floodgates requires strict operational protocols. Engineers must coordinate the opening of spillways to manage water levels, protect the structural integrity of the dam, and prevent catastrophic downstream flooding.”

Well, now that we were down this rabbit trail, we had to look up what a spillway was, iykyk. And this is what I got back:

“A spillway is a critical safety structure built into a dam or levee to safely release floodwaters downstream.

Why Spillways Exist

• Prevents overtopping: Water must never spill over the top of an earthen or concrete dam, as this can cause the entire structure to erode and collapse.

• Relieves pressure: During heavy rains, a spillway acts as an overflow valve to bypass excess water when the main reservoir gets too full.

Common Types of Spillways

• Controlled Spillway: Uses mechanical gates (like floodgates) that engineers can raise or lower to precisely regulate water flow.

• Uncontrolled (Ogee) Spillway: A fixed concrete crest where water automatically flows over the top once the reservoir rises past a specific height.

• Chute Spillway: A steep, open concrete channel that safely directs high-velocity water down a hillside away from the dam structure.

• Glory Hole (Bell-Mouth) Spillway: A massive, funnel-shaped vertical drain built directly inside the reservoir that swallows excess water like a giant bathtub drain.

Key Components

• Control Structure: The top section (crest, weir, or gates) that regulates when water enters.

• Discharge Channel: The pathway or tunnel that guides the rushing water safely past the dam.

• Terminal Structure: A energy-dissipating basin at the bottom (like a flip bucket or stilling pool) designed to slow the water down so it does not erode the riverbed below.”

Well, I’ll be damned…literally. M was right, there IS a way to control the flow of something as powerful as a dam. And if it can be done for a dam, why can’t it work for my emotions?

So here I am, sitting with a new question instead of a new crisis. If water engineers can design entire systems to manage something as powerful and unpredictable as floodwater, maybe healing isn’t about stopping the flow at all. Maybe it’s about building better infrastructure.

I don’t have the blueprints yet. But for the first time in a long time, I believe they exist.

Have you ever found yourself down a rabbit trail that turned into something unexpectedly meaningful? Or maybe you’re sitting with your own emotional dam right now, wondering if the floodgates are about to give. Either way, I’d love to hear where you are with all of this. Drop a comment below and let’s talk about it.

Well, I said I wanted to feel something. I even warned myself to be careful what I asked for. And then, apparently, I went ahead and asked for it anyway. What was I thinking? Oh yeah, that feeling something was better than feeling numb. Last week I felt like a fake, plastic person, almost like a robot. It seemed so unreal to me, and I didn’t like it.

So after M read the After Therapy Report, she followed the breadcrumbs I had apparently left about wanting to feel. She said that it sounded like I had never experienced a compassionate witness who held space for my emotions before. That phrase stabbed me in the heart. I never thought about that before, probably because, as M said, I had never experienced it. She was right.

She asked if I wanted to recover those emotions, and when I said yes, she checked with the system to see if everyone else was on board. Everyone surrounding me was OK with it, but I was a little wary of what was going to happen. Was it going to be like opening the floodgates and having everything come out at once? Would experiencing all of it at once be overwhelming? I was nervous, for sure.

M could sense I was uncomfortable with others seeing me emote, so she asked whether I wanted to do it with others present or in private. I chose private. I was not ready for anyone to see me cry, or whatever else might come out.

She led me through an EMDR titration exercise using the visual of a faucet that I could control. I could open it as much or as little as I wanted. The flow was mine to manage.

My body responded immediately. The EMDR paddles were barely activated before my body began to move as though we were crying in agony. Shoulders. Chest. The physical language of grief was full and present.

But nothing came out.

My head was completely detached from my body. I could observe the crying without feeling it. The faucet had been turned on, but whatever was behind it couldn’t reach the spout. Dissociation was doing what dissociation does: keeping the system safe by keeping the parts separate. With each cycle, I sensed the emotions coming closer, but I also sensed a resistance. Still, I felt nothing.

As time wound down, Bodyguard (BG) showed up to drive us home. He was proud of the work I had done. He had done a ton of intensely emotional work with M when we first started seeing her, and he recognized what it cost.

When we got home, I was still trying to figure out what had happened. I took some time to process in the Community Journal, and that’s when the disturbing realization hit me. The part resisting feeling the emotions wasn’t outside me. It was inside me. I literally wrote, “Aw crap, I’m starting to wonder if I am a system.” It seemed very similar to the way Body discovered she had her own system.

BG stayed with me because he understood how shocking that kind of discovery can be. He was encouraging in the way I imagine a real buddy would be.

The next morning, we woke up feeling like some in the system had never gone to sleep, and like we had been hit by a Mack truck. The headspace was noisy. We were pulled to the glider in my office, so we glided and rocked at different speeds, just like the EMDR paddles, and it activated different voices at different speeds. Eventually, everyone felt heard. And what I quickly realized was that those voices were coming from within me.

I remembered a conversation I’d had before therapy with a part I was too embarrassed to name, even to M. His name was Eeyore. I know, I know. But Eeyore told me that he held all my sadness, and that there were many others like him holding different emotions.

That’s when it all clicked. The exercise hadn’t worked because we weren’t tapping into the emotions of MY system. And because I hadn’t gotten full agreement from those within my own system to do that work.

I started to picture the parts carrying barrels of emotions on their backs like backpacks, and each barrel needed a tap. But with so many barrels, where do you even start?

You start by asking.

I thanked them, the ones carrying the barrels, for what they had done to keep me safe by diverting my emotions into those barrels all those years. And then I invited them to work with me to empty them, so that they could free themselves to pursue their own dreams.

Some were excited. Some were skeptical. And that’s OK. You don’t need everyone to say yes at once. You start with the ones who are willing.

The ones who aren’t ready yet don’t need to be pushed. What they need is a vision of what life could look like if they weren’t carrying that weight anymore. These parts have been hauling those barrels for a long time. The invitation isn’t to force them to put the barrels down. It’s to show them what their hands could hold instead.

BG could see I was struggling to access the emotions even after all that, because I had no language for what I was sensing in my body. He pointed me to the feelings wheel pillow in my office, because Cyndi thought every therapist and coach should have one, and honestly, she was right. Having a picklist of words to work with helped more than I expected.

He encouraged me to start with the emotions connected to the situation with Drill Sergeant. As I let myself think about what DS had told me, what he did, and how little I was at the time, a red-hot heat started rising from my gut into my chest. My breathing got heavy. My nostrils flared. My cheeks got hot. My chest was tight. It felt like I had been injected with adrenaline.

With the feelings wheel in hand, I found the words: anger, resentful, furious, enraged, hostile, and most definitely sarcastic. Questions started surfacing that sounded more like accusations. “How could you do that after knowing what I had already been through?” “Now you’re telling me real men cry? Are you serious right now?”

It got intense. BG encouraged us to just sit there for a minute. We hadn’t hurt anyone. Nothing was damaged. No one was in trouble.

So we sat in the discomfort of those intense emotions, and even though we were only in it for a minute, it felt like an eternity. And that was exactly the point, to prove to my other parts that we would not be destroyed by feeling. When I was ready, I turned off the flow and put everything back in the container.

One barrel. One tap. Emotions that flowed freely until I chose to stop them.

It wasn’t tears. But it was something. And something is where you start.

I think M would be proud of us. I also think she would be relieved that we didn’t try to drain all the barrels at once, because that would not have been good for anyone.

We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us. But now I know where the taps are, and I understand the work that needs to get done.

Thank you for reading this and being a compassionate witness for me and my system.

Until next time,

Joshua

This has been a rather eventful week here in the Orchestrated Harmony System. I (Joshua) started holding meet-and-greets with all the functional teams in the system’s conference room, and I have a lot to report.

I met with the new go-to-work team first, which I learned is very different from the previous go-to-work team. There is PM, a project manager part, who bailed me out last week and helped me get organized when I was completely overwhelmed. I also met three brothers: Learner, Researcher, and Professor. That was pretty cool, because you could see the family resemblance right away. I also discovered that Learner doubles as the team’s career coach, which is good to know. We usually have an Executive part, but when I asked about it, I learned we have a Seer instead. I don’t think we’ve ever had that part before. She has the supernatural ability to see into the future and gain spiritual insights. I believe she will be the one who casts the vision for where we’re headed.

The next meeting was supposed to be with the caregivers, but when I saw that Drill Sergeant (DS) was there, I took him aside for a little chat, since he was supposed to be my buddy. I apologized to him for not connecting more and shared what I had learned from M in therapy last week about having an emotional memory of terror whenever I even thought about reaching out to him. This is where it got interesting...and hard.

He told me that he might have been the one who caused that terror, or at least contributed to it. Back in the dark times, his job was to keep the system alive, even though Cyndi didn’t know we were a system, and he used every tool in his toolbox. That meant fear and intimidation, which, by the way, were the father’s favorite tools to keep the kids in line. The father caused it, but DS used it.

So I had it coming at me from the outside and the inside. At the time, I was not the person I’ve become. I was a scared little boy, and DS used the same tactics on me that the father had already used. He would yell and scream, tell parts to “suck it up, buttercup,” and say things like, “What are you crying for? Wipe those tears from your eyes, or I will give you something to cry about.” That is why I don’t cry today.

He told me he didn’t like what he did. He didn’t like being the bully of the system, even if it was for a good reason, and the Lord knew that. So after He eliminated the threat, DS was allowed to retire to the Safe Place, and the Lord began to change him in the most unexpected way, through the Littles. Somehow, the most vulnerable ones could see right through him to the person he actually was beneath the surface. He shed a lot of tears. He had a lot of regrets. But day after day with those wee little ones, he began to heal and soften. He told me that real men cry and that I don’t have to put on the tough-guy armor anymore while dying on the inside. He said that everyone in the system has been impacted by our past in some way. Everyone.

I mean, what do you do with that? I was totally not expecting it. I told him that I forgave him, but honestly, I was still in shock, so I’m not sure the decision to forgive fully counts yet. It filled in the gaps where I had no memory, and it made sense cognitively, but I felt nothing. Nada. Even when the memories of the terror I experienced from the father came flooding back, I still felt nothing. It was like I was watching it on one of the monitors in our meeting room, and it was some other little kid’s story, not my own.

I was no longer in any shape to meet with the rest of the caregiver team that day, so I postponed to the next day. DS was there, of course. Grandma was there too, and I was glad to see her. She was the one who volunteered to take the little girl who had been missing Scribe. She smiled and nodded at me, and that gave me a warm, accepting feeling. The one who surprised me was Bodyguard (BG). I had expected him to be with the leadership team, but he was left in charge of Body’s system, so he has his hands full.

The day after that, I met with the teens. I know Scribe’s special group is the Littles, and that makes sense because she is very nurturing by nature. The teens are a special group for me personally, because they carry a lot of the heavy weight of the abuse during our teen years. I told them that once upon a time, I was them. I was frustrated by adults who never listened and didn’t take what I had to say seriously. I was forced to take care of the younger ones with all the responsibility and none of the authority, which meant I got into trouble when they didn’t do what they were supposed to. I acknowledged how they carried, and still carry, some of the heaviest loads in this system. I told them that without them doing this very important work, the system would not have survived, and that I respected them and their sacrifice. That is not what they expected from me, for sure.

I invited them to come to therapy to work on unloading their burdens so they could be free to do whatever they dreamed of doing, and I committed to being there with them if they wanted me to be.

When I asked if they had any questions, they asked about curfew. I thought that was pretty funny, but I told them that yes, there was still a curfew, because we all share a pretty old body that needs its rest. Then they asked if they could have their own room. I was happy to say yes. I told them that, in our system, we can imagine anything we’d like, and that I would love to see the designs they came up with if they wanted to share them with me.

I wasn’t able to meet with the Littles yesterday because we woke up to a lot of noise in our headspace about a certain friend we thought we had lost. That gave me the opportunity to facilitate my first community meeting. I did my best to hold space for all the emotion, but it was pretty intense. I’m not ready to share about that yet, because it is still new and I am continuing to process it.

So, you can see this has been a rather full week. Parts showed up and actually talked to me. I wanted each of them to know they had a very important role in keeping this system running well. I think I did that, but time will tell. For right now, I feel way more at home than I did last week.

The one thing still on my mind is that the emotions from the meeting with DS have not shown up yet. I usually have a delayed emotional reaction to big things. I think it is the system’s way of protecting me and helping me continue to lead during hard times. But this delay feels long, and I am a little concerned it is going to come at an inconvenient time. It would be nice if it came out in therapy, but that doesn’t always happen. I still feel numb, like I am emotionally disconnected. I’m not sure that is a good sign.

I’ve been told to trust the process, so I suppose I shouldn’t worry about it, and I’ll deal with it when it comes.

It’s just strange because Cyndi and Scribe were so tenderhearted that they cried about everything. No shame, no fear. They were just OK with letting it out and letting others see it. They were OK with showing up messy, even to coaching sessions. That is not me. I guess I would just like to feel something besides numb. But perhaps I should be careful what I ask for.

Well, that is the update. I feel like this is a soap opera or something. Stay tuned for our next episode, where Joshua totally loses it in therapy. It is what it is, I suppose.

Thanks for listening, friends.

Until next time,

Joshua

Hey, everyone. Joshua here. I thought I would pop on here and give you an update on how things are going during this leadership transition that we are going through.

Honestly? It’s hard right now.

Wednesday nearly broke me.

I was so overwhelmed because no one had stepped forward to help, so I have been trying to manage a big full-time job and a coaching business by myself. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and frustrated. I felt totally defeated and alone. I understand why the leadership team all had their separate responsibilities, like the “go-to-work” team, Cyndi managing the coaching business, and Scribe managing the system stuff. This is not a one-part job.

I got to the point where I spoke into the system, kind of harshly, and said, “Look, I know that we have some parts that have project management skills because I know we’ve done that job before, even though we didn’t know we were a system then. And I need you to step forward, whoever you are, and help me get organized, because I can’t do this alone.” To my amazement, at least one part stepped forward to organize and process all the unread emails, create a to-do list, and schedule the meetings that needed to be scheduled. I was so relieved.

I am not the kind of leader who thinks he needs to do everything himself, but when you don’t have anyone to delegate to, everything falls back on you. I know that they are out there, but I can’t see them. It’s like they are blending into the walls with camouflage.

The last time I was out was, like, 2003 (…I think, but you know that time is a bit of a mystery), and I didn’t know we were a system then. Of course, we didn’t have our coaching business to deal with either. But leadership was different then. I could move quickly, make decisions without having to gain consensus, and pivot when I needed to. Ultimately, I just did what the Lord told me to do, without asking permission. So, when I was thrust forward, I expected it to be like what I knew, but it was so not.

I reached out to because I was at my wits’ end, and I told them I was thinking about literally having a Come-to-Jesus meeting. It felt weird telling the system that we need to divide and conquer, but that’s what we need to do. They encouraged me to have that meeting and said that if systems don’t work together, they sink. I’m so thankful for them because I didn’t feel so alone in all this, and they have much more experience than I do.

I also scheduled a session with Jade from Peer Support for Multiples, because I really needed support, and we can’t contact our therapist, M, outside of our session. I acknowledge that it is not what some of you experience with your therapist, but it is what it is. Listen, if you’ve ever needed support outside of session from someone who gets DID, I would highly recommend Jade.

I had never met her before, but I was kind of desperate. Apparently, she has been interacting with Cyndi and Scribe, so I had to tell her about that transition that we are going through right now. She didn’t make it feel weird at all, which was cool.

I explained the challenges I was having, with no one stepping forward to help manage everything, and that it did not seem like we were making progress as a system. She asked me to consider the possibility that we are operating at exactly the right speed God wants us to. That one reframe helped settle the agitation I was feeling (at least I think it was mine) about not being able to move fast and make progress. It was like a breath of fresh air. We were moving at exactly the right speed we are supposed to be moving at. Slow is fast.

I shared with her my observation that the system seemed hesitant to trust me because I am a male. I am the first male leader of this system, and we’ve all had some bad experiences with male leadership…even me. I told her how hesitant I was to reach out to my assigned buddy, the Drill Sergeant, because my past experience with someone in that role had not been good.

I know that he is the one who kept the system alive during the dark times of the abuse by screaming at us: “Don’t you give up on me!!!” There came a point where he said that we didn’t need him anymore, so Cyndi offered him a position at Safe Place to take care of the Littles, who absolutely adore him. They pay no attention to his gruffness. When I told M about him, she said it sounded like he had gone through a transformation himself, and maybe that’s why the leadership team assigned him to me as my buddy. It’s possible, I suppose.

I didn’t think that I was encumbered by the past, but my reluctance to reach out to him, even though I was desperate and feeling utterly alone, tells me that there is something there that I might need to address. I guess M will be happy about that.

Anyway, Jade said that sometimes in business, when there are changes in managers/leaders, the new leader will schedule a Meet-And-Greet to get to know the team that they just inherited. I thought that was a brilliant idea, and we do have a conference room in our system, so there’s that. Meeting with Jade was so helpful for me in coming up with my next steps.

I started to conceptualize how this works in business, and that was really helpful. My first order of business is to meet the team and get to know them. It will take as long as it will take, and now I understand how important trust-building is within a system. I have formulated a plan to have that meeting, even though I haven’t had it yet. I’m thinking tomorrow might be a good day for it, since we are off work.

The other thing I’ve been struggling with is not wanting to mess up Cyndi’s coaching business and have her be upset with me when she gets back from the Leadership Retreat. I was talking to God about this on one of our morning walks, and He told me that it wasn’t her business, it was His…and that He expected me to make changes. It was like the parable of the talents, where the master of the house was going on a long journey, and he called his servants to him and gave them a portion of his goods (money) to manage while he was gone according to their abilities. I saw it so clearly then, and that was the permission I needed to stop walking on eggshells.

I have seen opportunities for improvement and have been conducting a very deep assessment of the coaching business (what is working and what is not). I would very much like to discuss what I am seeing with my leadership team, as they have been working on this longer than I have, and I would value their insights on what should be done. Time will tell.

That is all the time I have for this report. This week was hard but also good because I got the support and clarity I needed to take the next right step. Thank you all for reading. And if any of yous have any suggestions about how to do this better, I am all ears.

Cyndi was here for the weekend to spend some time with her husband, and I (Joshua) am so relieved. She had a chat with , and they suggested creating an onboarding guide for the system, so everyone knows what to do when someone new shows up. That was so helpful for me. From what I am hearing on the inside, this is a living document, a work in progress, if you will. I call it a draft because it is better to start a collaborative discussion with something on a page than with a blank page.

I think it is a good start, and I think this will be a good exercise for us as a system to get to know one another…actually, for me to get to know them. I want to share it with y’all, in case you have any suggestions or things we haven’t considered. Please let us know in the comments.

Orchestrated Harmony: Standard Operating Procedure (SOP) for New Parts

With love, from the system that’s glad you’re here 🩷

Purpose

This SOP exists because every part who arrives, whether new or returning, dormant or newly emerged, deserves to be welcomed and oriented. We’ve learned that when parts show up without context, things get harder for everyone. This document is our way of making sure no one has to figure it out alone.

Note: Some parts may be too little to read this document on their own. If that’s the case, their buddy is responsible for sitting with them and reading it together, or sharing the information in whatever way feels safe and accessible for them.

Section 1: Welcome

First things first. If you are reading or listening to this SOP, you belong here. Your presence is not an accident. Every part of this system exists for a reason, and that includes you. You carry something real, whether that’s a memory, a feeling, a skill, or a way of seeing the world that no one else in here holds quite the same way.

You don’t have to earn your place. You already have one.

Section 2: Your Buddy

You will be paired with a buddy. This is someone who knows the system, knows what’s at stake, and can help you find your footing without judgment.

Your buddy is your first point of contact when you have questions, feel overwhelmed, or aren’t sure what to do next. Reaching out to them is not a weakness. It is exactly what they are there for.

Note: Buddy assignments are made by system leadership upon arrival.

Section 3: What You Need to Know Right Away

Every Voice Matters

This system runs on the understanding that no single part has the whole picture. Every voice, even the quiet ones, even the ones that feel inconvenient or hard to hear, carries something that belongs to our shared story.

You will be heard here. And in return, we ask that you extend that same respect to everyone else.

You Cannot Make Decisions Alone

We share a body. We share a life. Decisions made without system input have consequences that everyone feels. This is not about distrust. It’s about protection for all of us.

Before taking any significant action, ask: Who else is affected by this? Have I checked in?

Consensus, or at minimum consultation, is how we stay safe and connected.

Leaders Serve, They Don’t Boss

If you are stepping into any kind of leadership role, know this: leadership here means holding space for the whole, not directing the parts. A leader gathers. A leader listens. A leader makes sure everyone has had the chance to be heard before moving forward.

Going Rogue Hurts Everyone

When any part acts outside of what the system has agreed to, it creates rupture. Trust breaks down. The body and the life we share can be put at risk. Repairing that takes time and energy that costs everyone.

If you feel the urge to act alone, especially in a big way, that is a signal to slow down and reach out, not to move forward.

Section 4: How We Communicate Internally

The Intercom System

We have an internal messaging system called the intercom. This is how parts communicate with each other inside the system. If you need to reach someone, have a question, or want to check in with another part, the intercom is how you do that. Your buddy can show you how it works when you first arrive.

Co-Consciousness and Fronting

We share a body, which means there are agreements around who is present and when. If you are unsure about the norms around fronting or co-consciousness, ask your buddy. These agreements exist to keep the body and our shared life safe and functioning, and you will be included in those conversations as you settle in.

Section 5: The Safe Place

The Safe Place is exactly what it sounds like. It is available to you. If you are feeling overwhelmed, scared, or unsure, you are welcome there. You are not alone in this system, and you do not have to white-knuckle through hard moments by yourself.

The Littles are cared for at the safe place. If you are one of the Littles, or if you need a soft place to land while you find your footing, know that there is space for you there.

Section 6: Therapy and M

The system has a therapist named M. She is a safe person who supports the whole system, and any part is welcome to bring something to therapy if they need to. Things can be passed along to M through the system so they can be addressed in session.

Participation is always a choice. No part will ever be forced to speak with M or engage in therapy if they do not want to. That boundary will be respected. And if you change your mind at any point, in either direction, that is okay too.

Section 7: About Our History

This system has a shared history. As a new or returning part, you may not have access to all of it yet, and that is okay. You do not have to catch up all at once. The story has been long, and it has not always been easy, and there is no rush for you to hold all of it immediately.

If you have questions about the system’s history or about things that have changed since you were last active, your buddy is a good first person to ask. Some things will come to you gradually. Some things may be shared with you intentionally over time. Trust the process, and trust that you will have what you need when you need it.

For parts returning after dormancy: things may look and feel different from when you were last present. That is normal. The system has grown and changed, and so may your role within it. Give yourself grace as you reorient.

Section 8: What to Do If Things Get Hard

Arriving is not always easy. You may feel confused, overwhelmed, or unsure where you fit. That is okay, and it is normal.

If things feel hard:

• Talk to your buddy first.

• Check in with system leadership if needed.

• Know that you do not have to have it all figured out right away.

This system has been through hard things before. We know how to hold each other through them. You are not alone in this.

Section 9: A Final Word

We are glad you are here. However you arrived, whatever you carry, whatever role you are stepping into, you are part of something that is bigger than any one of us.

We are rooting for you. 🩷

Orchestrated Harmony

For the System: Our Responsibilities When Someone New Arrives

When a new part shows up, the system has responsibilities too. A warm welcome and a clear process protect everyone, including the one who just arrived.

• Welcome them. A new arrival may be disoriented, scared, or unsure of their place. Lead with warmth first, information second.

• Assign a buddy promptly. Don’t leave a new part without support while things get sorted out. This is the first step, not an afterthought.

• Share this SOP. Make sure they have access to this document and the time to go through it. If they are too little to read it on their own, their buddy should sit with them and read it together in whatever way feels safe and accessible.

• Introduce them to the intercom. Show them how to use it so they have a way to reach others from the start.

• Show them the safe place. Make sure they know it exists and that they are welcome there.

• Inform them of their therapy options. Let them know about M, and that participation is always their choice.

• Check in regularly. Onboarding doesn’t end after the first conversation. Ask how they’re doing. Mean it.

• Include them. New parts should be brought into system conversations gradually and with care, not left on the outside looking in.

• For returning parts: acknowledge that things may have changed and give them space to reorient without pressure.

The way we welcome someone new says a lot about who we are as a system. Let’s make sure it says something good.

Well, that’s a good start. What do y’all think? Any suggestions?

Joshua,

Welcome. I mean that fully. Your presence here matters, and the fact that you’re stepping into a leadership role tells me something important about who you are and what you’re willing to carry for us.

I also want to say this up front: I know this is hard. Going from leading as a singleton to leading a system is not the same thing. Not even close. The skills that made you effective out there (decisiveness, taking charge, moving fast), those aren’t wrong. But they need to be reshaped here, because the context is completely different. You’re not leading one person with one voice and one set of experiences. You’re leading a whole community that lives inside one body and one life. That requires something different from you, and I believe you’re capable of it.

Here’s what I need you to know.

Every Voice Matters

Every part of this system has a reason for existing. Every voice, even the quiet ones, even the ones that feel inconvenient or hard to hear, carries something real. They carry memories, feelings, needs, and wisdom that belong to our shared story.

Your job as a leader is not to manage those voices into silence. It’s to make sure they feel safe enough to be heard. When parts feel unheard, things get harder for everyone. When they feel seen, the whole system moves better.

This means slowing down sometimes. Listening before acting. Asking “who else needs to weigh in on this?” before making a move.

You Are a Leader, Not a Boss

There is a difference, and it matters enormously here.

A boss directs. A leader serves. A boss decides alone. A leader gathers. A boss demands compliance. A leader builds trust.

In a system, no one person, no matter their role, has the authority to override the collective. That includes you. Leadership here means holding space for the whole, not wielding power over the parts. If you find yourself making decisions without checking in, without considering how those decisions affect everyone who shares this life with you, that’s a signal to pause.

Your role is to help us move together. Not to move us where you think we should go.

You Cannot Make Decisions Alone

This is not a limitation on you. It’s a protection for all of us.

Decisions made without system input have consequences that everyone feels. We share a body. We share a life. When one part acts unilaterally, everyone lives with the results. That’s why consensus, or at a minimum consultation, isn’t optional. It’s how we stay safe and stay connected to each other.

Before any significant decision, ask: Who is affected by this? Have I heard from them? Is there anyone I haven’t checked in with who needs a voice here?

You don’t have to have everyone’s enthusiastic agreement on everything. But you do have to make sure everyone has had the chance to be heard.

What Happens When Someone Goes Rogue

I want to be honest with you about this because it’s important.

When any part, regardless of their role or how well-intentioned they are, acts outside of what the system has agreed to, it creates rupture. Trust breaks down. Other parts feel unsafe. The body and the life we share can be put at risk. Repairing that takes time and energy that costs everyone.

Going rogue is never worth it. Even when it feels urgent. Even when you’re convinced you’re right. The short-term relief of acting alone is almost never worth the long-term cost to the system’s safety and cohesion.

If you feel the urge to act alone, especially in a big way, that’s a sign to reach out, not to move forward. Check in with the system. Slow down.

Your Buddy Is Here to Help

Because you’re stepping into something new, and because “hard, bumpy lessons” are felt by everyone in this system, we’ve arranged for you to have a buddy. Your buddy is Drill Sergeant. He knows this system, he knows what’s at stake, and he is someone you can trust to tell you the truth. You’ll find him at the safe place, where he takes care of the Littles. A part who shows up consistently to protect the most vulnerable among us is exactly the kind of person you want in your corner as you find your footing.

Lean on him. That’s what he’s there for. Asking for help isn’t a weakness in a system. It’s wisdom. It’s how we take care of each other.

A Final Word

Joshua, I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re willing to learn. Leadership in a system is one of the most meaningful and most humbling things a part can do, because it asks you to hold everyone, not just yourself.

You were built for something. I believe that. And I believe you can grow into this role in a way that makes all of us safer, more connected, and more whole.

We’re rooting for you. 🩷

Cyndi

The After Therapy Report today is going to be a little different, because I am not Scribe. I am Joshua. Something happened in our system this week that we have been struggling to articulate, but I’ll do my best.

Before therapy, we were kind of freaked out because the leadership team was uncharacteristically absent. The “Go To Work” team had not gone to work that day…and it showed. Maybe one or two of them would be gone at a time, but not all of them.

When we entered the therapy room, we didn’t quite feel like ourselves, and we definitely weren’t Scribe. None of wanted to go to therapy because we didn’t know what was going on and we didn’t know what to tell M. But someone had to front, so one part stepped forward (I don’t even know who that part was and I’m not sure that part knew who they were). They were bubbly and smiley…going for the distraction technique, trying not to let M know that they had never been to her office before. I’m pretty sure the part was a female, by the way she picked up the stuffies from the couch and held them like a mother holds their babies. She told M that the puppy reminded her of a little dog that we see on our walks in the morning named Bailey, who always likes to have her belly scratched. I don’t think the distraction technique was working, because after her story about the dog, M looked at us and asked us how we were coming into therapy today. What do you say to that when you have no idea what’s going on?

She told her that we haven’t been feeling like ourselves lately, which was true. But when M inquired about it, I was somehow thrust forward into the room in midsentence, because she didn’t know how to answer the question. I did not expect that. As soon as I saw myself holding those ridiculous stuffies, I put them down…and M noticed right away. She asked, “What just happened there? I noticed that when you all came into the room, someone picked up the stuffies and was snuggling them, but something shifted and someone put the stuffies down. What’s happening for you right now?”

I said, “I’m sorry, I lost my train of thought, what was I saying?” We’ve seen that distraction technique work before outside of therapy…but not with M. She was onto us, and man, is she observant. She asked if I had ever been here before and I shook my head no. She asked if I knew who she was? Yes, I knew who she was from watching on the inside. She asked if we had ever met her before? We said, no. So she introduced herself to us, which we kind of already knew. Then she was if we were willing to share our name with her. She said we didn’t have to if we didn’t want to. Which is good, because we didn’t know our name at that time. So we said no to sharing our name with her and told her we didn’t know our name. She said that was OK.

I told her that something was wrong inside because the leadership team was not there and we didn’t know where they were. She asked if we would be willing to ask into the system to see if anyone had any information to share about what happened with the leadership team, which I said yes to. But when I asked into the system, I saw a bunch of faces that I did not know, and none of the faces I did know (like the leadership team). No one responded to me. So I told her that I got nothing. She asked if it would OK if she spoke through me to the system. I said, sure, but in my head I was thinking…good luck with that.

She asked the question about whether anyone had any information about the disappearance of the leadership team or what my name was. Apparently, they heard her question, because they gathered into a huddle of sorts and were talking among themselves. I could see this young head pop up occasionally, checking me out, and then reengaging in huddle. It felt really uncomfortable, so I told that to M, and told her that I felt like I was the new kid at school. So M spoke into the system again and asked what was happening. The last thing I remember thinking was, “I don’t want to be here” and poof, I was out of there, and another part took over.

All of this switching gave us a really big headache. The part that showed up was a little girl who whispered to M that something was happening and she didn’t know the people and there were a lot of them. I think M could sense that this little one was feeling a little overwhelmed by the crowded system, so she spoke into the system and asked everyone to arrange themselves so that there was more room. When they did, you could tell that she could breathe better.

I think M realized that this was a different part, because she went through the whole introduction part with her like she did with me. M asked her about herself and whether she was big or small, and whether she knew her name…she didn’t know. It was at that moment that the little girl realized that she was alone and had lost her mommy. She thought her mommy was in the crowd, but now she didn’t see her, and she got really upset.

She covered her face and told M that she was lost, lost, lost. I noticed her almost shrinking inside herself. M started talking about how her voice was like an anchor of a ship, holding it in place. She was talking about three points of contact or something, but I wasn’t really following what she was saying, and I know the little girl didn’t know what she was talking about. She was very distressed and M’s voice was too much for her…she wanted to just cover her ears, but she couldn’t because her hands were over her face. I could hear her thinking…I just want her to hold my hand…do you think she would if I asked? Am I allowed to ask? She was desperate, so she got the courage to ask M to hold her hand. M asked if it was OK with all the parts, and she nodded. M told her that in order for her to hold her hand, she would have to move closer to her, and asked if that was OK. She nodded. When M got settled on her footstool, she let the little girl know she was reaching out her hand.

The little girl took her hand, and almost immediately I could see her body relax a little bit. She wasn’t alone anymore. She told me later, that all the people on the bus looked so big to her, and that she imagined on the inside that M was her mommy, holding her hand. I even saw her imagining that she was holding onto M’s leg and she knew that she would be protected. I could see the little girl stroking M’s hand…feeling it to make sure it was real…it was real and M noticed that she was doing it, and it was OK for her to do that. M asked her how holding her hand felt to her…she said, safe. M asked her how else it felt, and she said like she was being protected. M asked if she had ever felt protected before. She shook her head no.

M asked if she would like to experience that now on May 5th, 2026. The mention of the date was kind of jarring on the inside. Even I felt it. Time is such a mystery for us sometime. None of knew what the date had anything to do with what she was asking, so we were a bit confused. I could see the little girl shake her head on the inside to dismiss the date and to focus on what M was offering…someone to care for her and protect her. She wanted that so badly. So M asked into the system to see if someone would step forward to care for her and protect her. No one stepped forward. Everyone was waiting for the leadership team to arrive and swoop in to care for this little one, like they always did. It wasn’t our place. M told her that she knew that there were some amazing caregivers in the system and that she had met some of them, but still no one stepped forward. She told the little girl that maybe folks on the inside would have to think about it before someone came forward.

I guess it was time to go, because M asked for an a responsible adult who could drive home to come forward and everyone else to step back…and suddenly I was back in the therapy room. I didn’t know who I was at that moment, but apparently I was a responsible adult who could drive home…good to know. We had such a terrible headache from all the switching. But the most disturbing thing was the absence of the leadership team. All of us on the insider were bewildered at what happened to them.

I think it would be cruel to cut off the story right here just because therapy was over, because the story has been continuing to play out this whole week. But this IS the After Therapy Report… and the story didn't end when therapy did. So. Act II.

Where were we? Ahh yes, we were literally AFTER therapy. We arrived safely at home, but I had to attend work meetings for the rest of the day, but we were all still pondering what happened in therapy and what happened to the leadership team.

During our walk with God the next morning at O dark thirty (the sun is not even up yet), we were rehearsing with the Lord what had happened in therapy the day before and He started revealing some things to me. If you’ve never had a therapy session with God before, I highly recommend it. Anyway, I was telling Him that I didn’t even know who I was. I didn’t know what my name was. And we were really concerned about what happened to the leadership team.

He told me that the leadership team was fine and that He had sent them on a Leadership Retreat to prepare them for what was coming (we still don’t know what that is). Then He told me that my name was Joshua, and that I was the new leader of the Orchestrated Harmony system (for a season). I was stunned. I didn’t know who I was until He told me and now He is telling me that I am supposed to replace Scribe? It was a lot to take in at one time.

Then He said that He also sent the leadership team away so that He could prepare the Next Generation of system leaders. Wow, really? He asked me if I saw what happened in therapy yesterday when M asked for someone to be a caretaker of the little one who stepped out in therapy and needed safety and protection? I said, “No one stepped forward. It was like they hesitated because even though they saw the need, they didn’t think it was their place, it was the leadership team’s job. They usually did those kinds of things.” He said, “Exactly. And that’s why I need to develop the Next Generation leaders, so that the system will not be like sheep without a shepherd, which is what you were feeling with the leadership void.”

This is getting long, so I’ll try to summarize the rest of the week instead of going into detail. As the week went on and I kept talking to the Lord, He told me that He had commissioned me for a purpose…that He was planning to do something amazing. I don’t know what that is just yet, but it sounds amazing.

As I continued to ponder these things in my heart, on Saturday I had this Deja vu moment…like I had been in this situation before, like I felt this same empowered feeling before…and I have, but it was over two decades ago, and I didn’t know we were a system back then.

It was actually Cyndi who was leading at that time. And she thought that the Lord had just equipped her with this ability to lead to do something that everyone thought was impossible. She knew she felt very different, but she didn’t know it was me, and I didn’t know it was me, either. I didn’t know we were different parts…but we are very different.

I was just thinking this morning how I am not weighed down by the burdens of the past like Cyndi is. Nor am I emotionally attuned to those who suffer in our system and need compassion and tenderheartedness. I am not either of those. I am unencumbered by the past and feel empowered to do the work the Lord has for me to do, and to lead others to participate in the work that God is going to do. I will only be here for a season, until I have accomplished the work He has commissioned me to do. Then, I will step aside for someone else to lead. And who knows, it might be our old leadership team.

But for now, this is where we are. Tomorrow I'll sit across from M and try to put words to all of this. But honestly? I'm not anxious about it. Whatever is coming, He said it's going to be good. And I believe Him.

Joshua out.

I said I'd come back and tell you what happened in therapy before we left. We're back. But this story isn't really mine to tell alone, it belongs to Teller, a part of our system who decided that session was their moment to finally be heard.

Before we went on our trip to Arizona for my brother-in-law’s memorial service, most of us were hunkered down in the back of the bus, being ignored by Cyndi and the rest of the “go to work” team, because of some important and looming deadlines. Cyndi was so focused on work that she requested a virtual therapy session, so she wouldn’t have to lose time by driving there.

I (Scribe) was not even the one that showed up to therapy that day, because I was in the back of the bus with the rest of the system. Cyndi was ignoring us like she does when she goes into hyper-focused mode, and she really did not want to work in therapy that day or open a can of worms that would intrude on her purpose.

She tried to avoid the work by telling M that she was not really connected to us (the rest of the system), but that didn’t stop M at all. She just said, “That’s OK, why don’t you take a few minutes to connect back with them?” Cyndi groaned, but we all cheered.

When she finally did reconnect with us, she seemed somewhat remorseful for ignoring us, but I sensed that she was not doing it on purpose…that there was something else driving her that she couldn’t control. Perhaps that is a story for another day.

At any rate, she looked at us with pleading eyes, as if to say, “can we please work on something simple?”…as if anything in our system were simple…geez. She tried again to steer M away from working on anything by telling her that she had been busy with work and wasn’t aware of anything that was happening in the system. M is so keen on avoidance tactics, so that did not work on her. I wish y’all could see me smirking as I’m telling this story. It was kind of fun to see Cyndi so uncomfortable, but I digress.

M challenged her to listen to what was being said in the system. She acknowledged that Body was feeling frustrated by lack of support from her system to work on the health journey, and that there was some kind of pushback happening.

We could all hear this tiny voice speak up on the intercom. She was saying that it wasn’t safe. Body looked perplexed because she couldn’t figure out what was not safe. M asked if Body would come forward to tell her who was speaking and what they were saying, since it was part of Body’s system. Cyndi was more than happy to step out of the line of fire.

Body recognized this little part. She was called “Teller,” because she was the one who had the hard job of telling/reporting to adults who wouldn’t listen to her. M told Teller that she mattered and that her voice was important. At which point, Teller burst into tears…and Cyndi groaned again.

She could not recall anyone ever telling her that she mattered and that they wanted to hear what she had to say. Body realized that she, too, had been ignoring or overriding this small voice, but it wasn’t intentional. She wasn’t raised to listen to the little voices. She was taught that the little ones should be quiet and get in line. M acknowledged that she was not brought up that way (to listen to the small voices), but that’s why she was here…to teach us how. Body apologized to Teller. She told Teller that she heard her saying it was unsafe, but when she checked it out, she didn’t see anything that was unsafe, so she ignored it.

That’s when Teller told her that she kept repeating the first message she was given to tell at age 4, when our uncle came into our room at night and did some things that did not feel safe. And she did tell the parents, but except for the father turning into a rage-filled monster, they did not seem to hear or acknowledge her message.

She told the parents again at age 10 when the “old man in the woods” did something to her that did not feel safe. Again, the parents did nothing except to tell her to stay out of the woods. Not heard…again.

When our body was 17, the guidance counselor forced her to tell the mother about the abuse by the father. She did not want to tell because she didn’t think the mother would do anything anyway, but to her surprise, the mother did hear her…sort of.

Now Body and Teller were both in tears. Body told Teller how sorry she was that she did not hear her and that her voice absolutely mattered. Every voice mattered, she said.

M asked Teller why she felt unsafe now in 2026. Teller ignored the 2026 reference and said that she wanted a seat at the table and wanted to be heard if we were going to move forward with the health journey. If we lost weight and she started to feel unsafe or exposed, she wanted to know that she would be heard, that her voice mattered.

Oof, that was really hard to watch. It was kind of heartbreaking really, when you think about how many little voices we have in our system who have been ignored or overridden for a long time. It made me sad.

Teller wasn’t saying that Body could not move forward with the health journey, she just wanted a commitment from Body that if she felt unsafe, she would be heard and acknowledged. Body made that commitment to her then and there.

Body sat with her thoughts about how she had overridden and ignored the little voice just because she didn’t take the time to listen to what she was really saying. Not every voice has words to articulate what happened to them, but they all matter. Every voice matters. She was determined that she was not going to do that again, and she was glad that M was with us to teach us a different way from how we were raised.

And I wonder, as I finish telling this story, how many of you have a Teller too. A small voice that has been reporting something important for a long time, to people who didn't listen, to a system that was too busy, to a world that said "stay out of the woods" instead of "I hear you." Maybe it's time to sit with that voice for a moment. Not to fix anything. Just to let them know they matter.

All voices matter.

I have not written the After Therapy Report in over two weeks now, and some of yous may have been wondering what happened to us. Well, two weeks ago, M was sick, and we didn’t have therapy, but that’s not what was really happening for us.

We were stuck in a hyper-focused productivity state. We had looming deadlines for work while consolidating and migrating my tech stack for my coaching business to Substack, all before we had to make our trip to Arizona for my brother-in-law’s memorial service. It was a lot, but it wasn’t something that we weren’t used to.

We have always had these “seasons” of hyper-productivity, if I can call it that. It is a lot like tunnel vision, only this time we were managing two parallel tunnels simultaneously. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was in focus. All our self-care routines were thrown out the window, and all we did was work.

Therapy was not one of our focuses, although there have been times when we were hyper-focused on therapy (to our detriment…you can’t speed up trauma healing as much as you want to). We didn’t know what was going on because our brain would not entertain those questions or challenges. There was no checking in with the system. No daily standups or community journaling.

Our system was quiet because we have been through this before and have learned that there is no reasoning our way out of it; we just have to hold on to our seats and get through it. We were in “Can’t Stop Mode.” We know that busyness is a coping strategy, but this was on steroids. We did not even want to take the time to drive to therapy (because we needed the time back), so we requested a virtual session.

We really didn’t want to be at therapy…that never happens to y’all, does it? Anyway, we were NOT connected to our system because we were so focused on work, and we didn’t want to open a can of worms before our trip. There is something or someone who drives us when we are like this. We do have a “Busy Bee” part, which makes me think of The Healing Together Conference, but I digress.

Anyway, after M twisted our arm to connect to our system…NO, she did not do that…after she held space for our detached space and invited us to connect back with the system, we were able to get reconnected, but it was like when the Wi-Fi spins and spins before connecting.

After two weeks, we were suddenly reconnected, and all the notifications from all the parts were pinging simultaneously in our brain. It was loud. It was like going away on vacation and coming back to 175 unread emails. Where do you even start when that happens? You skim, right? You quickly read and dismiss general system announcements, flag the things you need to come back to when you can actually pay attention, and try to get that number down to zero. Uggh.

I will come back to what we actually worked on last week because I think it is important, and some of yous might resonate with it. For now, I want to focus on hyper-focus (do you see what I did there?).

When we told M what was happening at work, she said that makes complete sense. You see, this is where she really messes with our mind. No Hmmm…or interesting…or query into why that might be…just, that makes sense. Really?

Our previous therapist told us it was a symptom of ADHD. We had no idea, and it didn’t make sense to us, because we thought that ADHD was about distraction and inattention. It turns out that hyperfocus is the flip side of the same coin. Our brain can lock onto something deeply engaging and struggle to disengage from it, just as it struggles to engage with things that aren't stimulating enough.

Then, M dropped the therapeutic bomb (does your therapist ever do that?) by saying that our system learned that skill as a survival strategy. What? What dost thou meanest, Oh Wise One? (Did I tell you that I [Scribe] have been locked in the back of the bus for the past two weeks? And that I had a wonderful after-therapy nap? LOL, so I am full of it today.)

She had the nerve to drop that bomb right when we ended our session…right before our trip to Arizona. So, our brain was still trying to focus on getting things done before we left, and it was like someone threw a rock into the spin cycle. It was rattling around the brain, and it was noisy.

Then, someone in the system had the bright idea of going from 200 mph to 0 by deciding we would unplug while in Arizona by leaving our computer behind. Not to mention that we were stuck in the middle seat of a plane for four hours…each way. What do you think was going on in that brain of ours? Nothing good, I tell you.

We did have our journal, but have you ever tried taking out a full-size spiral notebook and trying to write on one of those drop-down trays on an airplane? No bueno. We also had our phone, with the plane’s Wi-Fi that spun about as much as our brains were spinning, so we were able to do some research on this phenomenon.

It turns out that ADHD is associated with different dopamine regulation in the brain. We have been monitoring our dopamine and other neurotransmitters for a long time during our healing journey.

Apparently, dopamine plays a big role in motivation, reward, and attention. The theory is that when something is highly stimulating or meaningful, it triggers enough dopamine response to produce that intense, locked-in focus. When something isn't stimulating enough, the dopamine response is insufficient to sustain attention.

In our case, hyperfocus tends to happen around things that are genuinely interesting, urgent, emotionally charged, or high-stakes, which makes sense when you consider it a survival strategy. This reminds me of Peter Levine’s book, Waking The Tiger: Healing Trauma, where he talks about how your body is preparing you to flee or take some action in response to danger.

The thing we can’t figure out, or maybe we should say, we haven’t figured out yet, is what or who triggers that response, and what is the actual trigger. The tricky thing about trigger management when you’re a system is that it is really complex. Each part has its own triggers, which can also overlap. It kind of reminds me of those logic-puzzle matrices I used to love doing once upon a time.

We are pretty sure Busy Bee is the one that is being triggered, but we’re not sure what is triggering her, so that part is still a mystery. This is a work in progress.

After three weeks of being hyper-focused on work, we reluctantly showed up to therapy today, and no one wanted to be there, because we were all so fatigued. So, M created a safe place for us to rest, unwind, and just be.

I was so fatigued that there was no way I could care for the system the way they needed me to. For me, the relaxation exercise in M’s office looked like me lying in a hammock on the back porch of our cabin in the woods, called our safe place, and listening to the brook flowing, the birds chirping, and the wind blowing. We walked out of M’s office today with our tightly wound spring unwound, which led to taking the rest of the day off from work, and taking a wonderful After-Therapy Nap (highly recommended).

We are still figuring out the Busy Bee mystery, but as we learned from triathlons, we have to strategically pace our journey, or we won’t make it to the finish line. Today was about intentionally building in a rest cycle where we could all catch our breath and gather the energy we need to finish this particular race.

What about you? Have you ever recognized a coping strategy in yourself that turned out to have deeper roots than you realized? We would love to hear from you.

Yesterday, we wrote about the voice of discouragement showing up when we woke up. It felt so therapeutic to write about it and to give words to the feelings we were having in our body.

After writing that blog, it was not long before it was time to go to therapy, so we brought the voice of discouragement with us. After M read our blog, it seemed that she understood what we were feeling, and she asked whether the ones who felt discouraged would be willing to come into her office. They did.

We didn’t realize, at first, that there were many of them because there was only one voice. But it was like paper dolls that, when folded up, looked like one part.

When they came forward, M noticed the sadness on our face and she reflected back to us what she read about feeling this weight on our chest. It was a big weight. It was so heavy that we had to put our hands on our chest to support the pressure.

When M asked whether there were words that told more about that heavy pressure, we heard ourselves say, “We feel stuck, and no matter how hard we try, we cannot get out from under this heavy weight.” When we heard those words coming out of our own mouth, we realized immediately that the current situation at work had triggered all the memories of feeling stuck and powerless beneath the weight of another.

M picked up the thread or the breadcrumb (as M likes to call it) from the blog about us leaning into God’s strength and asked whether He could help relieve the pressure. You know, our imaginations can be so helpful in healing, at times. In our mind, we saw Jesus (in our mind, he is way more relatable to us than God, the Father, for obvious reasons) wedge himself between the heavy body that was on top of us (interestingly enough, we became a small child at that point) and lifted up the weight, so we could get out from under it. We were free.

But that wasn’t all. After Jesus discarded the heavy load, which was actually a ghost from times past, He scooped us up and held us in His arms. We said, “Lord, that was too heavy for us; we were stuck and couldn’t escape, even though we tried everything.”

He said, “Dear One, that burden was never yours to bear; it was mine. You’ve been fighting so long to escape that burden using your own strength, but you couldn’t. And I can see that your friends experienced the same thing in their place on your timeline. That makes sense, because this is a God-sized burden that you and your friends were not able to bear, nor were you meant to bear.

You did not know me at the time this happened, so you did not know you could ask me to take the burden off you. But someone older and wiser in your system knows that this is possible, and they asked me to help you and the others. You don’t have to fight anymore, Dear One, because I have you…I’ve always had you. Rest now. Lay your head down on my shoulder and feel my peace wash over all of you. That’s it. Peace. Be Still.”

What I saw was the limp form of a little girl being held by Jesus, fully resting in His arms. I could hear Him whispering to her that He had her and that she was safe.

Meanwhile, back in the therapy room, M had picked up on the very relaxed form sitting on her couch and introduced the imagery of us floating on the water…gentle waters…peaceful…just floating.

And back inside, we could see Jesus laying the little girl on her back in the water, still holding her and allowing her to float. He continued to whisper to her that she was safe and that He had her. Amazingly, she closed her eyes and allowed the sense of being safely held to flow through her to the others who were linked to her.

We were shocked because this one was petrified of water after a near-drowning when she was little. She has never not fought…until now. We heard Jesus tell her that His holding her was like floating in the Dead Sea…it was impossible to sink. Again, we saw her still and relaxed.

We were like, “Wow, the rest of us could use some of that…especially the work team right now.”

I digress. Anyway, when M brought her back into the therapy room, she tried to explain the removal of the burden and her surrender to Jesus holding her. She told M about the imagery that M used about floating and how she has never been able to surrender to floating because of the near-drowning incident when she was younger. M said that we never told her about that (Oops, who can keep track of all the trauma…geez, sorry about that M), and that she never would have used that imagery if she had known. I think we both acknowledged that it was a God thing.

It was a super deep healing that was applied to all the connected parts. We’ve only experienced that copy/paste type of reparative healing one other time when we were doing brainspotting with our former therapist. It is amazing how that works.

As we were preparing to leave, M told us that what she observed from her chair, working with us in the therapy room, in the After Therapy Report, and in the Community Journal, she had noticed a lot of change and growth in us. That really meant a lot to us. Trauma healing often happens at the microscopic level, where we can’t see progress, and sometimes, others have to notice it for you. That was very helpful and appreciated.

So, Discouragement entered the therapy room, and a quiet peace left it.

We woke up this morning to the sound of little teary-eyed voices telling us that they did not want to go to therapy today, and a heaviness in our heart. I don’t know how it works for other systems, but we often wake up dysregulated like this in the morning, and it takes some journaling to figure out what happened during the night shift to bring this on.

Usually, the voice that tells us that they don’t want to go to therapy is really telling the rest of the system that we really need to go to therapy, but we never force parts to go to therapy if they don’t want to.

So, after we got that part tended to, we noticed another voice that we haven’t heard from in quite some time…the voice of discouragement. We are sure that this is the one that brought the heaviness to our heart. I was wondering if we would be hearing from this one, given how we were feeling during/after work yesterday.

We’ve been carrying a heavy load at work (14 workstreams), but a little over a week ago, the business decided to remove two of those workstreams from scope for our initial deployment, which gave us a little breathing room. But yesterday, we learned that the business had added three more workstreams, and we started to hear the voice of discouragement coming from really far away.

We could hear the repetitive phrases: “Is this ever going to end? We are so tired. I can’t do this anymore. How much longer must we suffer, Lord?”

This voice was our constant companion through the long, dark years of our abuse. And it makes sense that this voice was triggered by what we are currently going through at work, and that is why it feels so big. The big emotions are coming up, but since it is therapy day, we think this is the perfect opportunity to let them flow freely and be witnessed and acknowledged by M. Sometimes you just need to hear, “That was so hard.”

This is the voice that would constantly call out to God with deep, emotional lamentation… begging God to make it stop and telling Him that we could not take any more.

At that time, that voice had a counterpart…the Drill Sergeant, and he was the one who kept us alive, and kept us moving forward. He would yell at us, “Don’t you give up on me, soldier. You can do this. You are tough…”

After we retired from doing triathlons, he retired to take care of our Littles at The Safe Place (our cabin in the woods). We miss him. The more intense the voice of discouragement, the more intense the Drill Sergeant would get, as if to drown out the voice of discouragement in our system.

Who will take the Drill Sergeant’s place for us now? Who will remind us that this will not last forever? Who will help us to see that there is an end to this suffering, even though we can’t see it for ourselves? Who will support us when we are too tired to move forward?

A phone call from the cabin…a familiar voice on the other end of the line…the Drill Sergeant’s calm and confident voice rang in my ear. He did not yell at me. Instead, he talked softly and encouragingly. He reminded me of all we’ve been through together, and told me that this is nothing compared to what we went through back in the day. He said, “You didn’t back down then, and you’re not going to back down now either. You have it in you, kiddo…you’ve always had it in you to do hard things. That’s why God trusted you with this difficult assignment…because He knew you could do it. Now, I’m not there to help you through this one, so you are going to have to lean on Him because He is ALWAYS with you. You don’t have to rely on your own strength because He has everything you need at His disposal. You’ve got this, kiddo. I believe in you.” And then he hung up.

He still believes in me. Sometimes, when we’ve stopped believing in ourselves, we need others to believe in us so we can continue moving forward. We do have others at work who believe in us. My boss and my executive believed in me so much that they went through Hell and high water to bring me back to Technology after I went to HR. That means a lot to me, and remembering that has added fuel to my depleted tank. My business partners believe in me. My tech partners believe in me. Not only do they believe in me, but they are depending on me. They need me. They need me to do the hard thing so they can be successful.

So, here I am…leaning hard into my God’s strength, because I don’t have any left. I am trusting that this current misery will end, and I am getting back on my feet and taking the next step forward.

I’m curious…what do y’all do when the voice of discouragement comes calling? What do you do when it seems like you are not getting anywhere in therapy and that the pain will never end? What do you do when you’re climbing a big mountain, and you run out of gas? How do you keep moving forward? I would love to hear from y’all.

Last week’s therapy session left us unexpectedly raw and flooding, to the point that we were not able to write about it publicly for our After Therapy Report. Y’all understand that it happens that way sometimes?

We did a lot of journaling in our community journal and got some extra support, which we talked about in our blog on Sunday. We are still processing it. The hardest part for us was the stitching together of memories that were previously blips and had no context, to now forming a cohesive memory…and it was so heavy. And just like the picture above, stuff started falling out of our container.

We were not surprised that these memories had to be broken up in order for our younger, littler selves to be able to carry. The double-bind we found ourselves in as a child caused a schism within that we could not reconcile.

We could not make sense of it on our own. We had no words for what was happening to us at the time. We had no way to communicate it. And who would we communicate it to anyway? We learned early that we needed to take care of ourselves. We did not even know God well enough at that time to know that we could dump that load at His feet.

In this healing journey, we have learned how to tolerate and sit in the discomfort of these old memories, but it doesn’t mean that it is pleasant. It is NOT. We walked into session today still feeling raw and heavily burdened. Telling M that this week was hard for us was a bit of an understatement…old survival trick.

We explained how we were being flooded by what we worked on in therapy the week before, how difficult it was to not feel like we had the proper support to manage it, securing the support we needed, and then we read some of journal entries to her (and allowed her to read one that we couldn’t read).

The pent-up emotions came pouring out of us in relief, in safety, in the gentle hands of someone who was willing to witness how hard it had been for us. That was hard. The validation of “Yeah, that was hard.” It, once again, felt like we were being held in the safe container that we built together. And we could finally exhale.

Sometimes therapy is about having someone validate how hard it was to hold the burdens that were dumped on us as innocent children. Sometimes it is about helping us to hold the heavy things for a while until we can get ourselves out from under the crushing load. And sometimes, it’s about watching us break free of those burdens and watching us soar with the wings of eagles.

Today was a heavy day, but not every day will be heavy. We still have a bunch of tediously slow work ahead of us, even though there are those in the system that want to get through this suffering as quickly as possible so they can find some relief. It is understandable that they long for that, but it is not really how this healing journey works. It works in the baby steps. Inch by inch…sometimes not even a whole step forward, but slow progress is still progress.

And so today, we sit in the discomfort of flooding memories, trying to be grateful for the stitching that has taken place which has made us a little more whole. We are reminding ourselves that we are allowed to struggle on this journey. It is part of the process.

Have any of you ever been in this kind of valley before with mountains on every side? How did you motivate yourself to begin the climb? I’d love to hear it.

If you are in the valley right now, we want you to know — we are in it with you. Not ahead of you, waving from the top. Right here, in the thick of it, where the air is heavy and the walls feel close.

We don’t have a map out. We just have the next small step, and the one after that, and the trust — fragile and still growing — that the steps are adding up to something.

You are not too broken for this journey. You are not moving too slowly. You are not alone.

We’ll keep walking if you will.